Marinette stood in the doorway, nearly in the center of her completely empty home. No one was here. No one was coming back soon, no one for days; just Marinette and no one else. The silence was deafening, and her mind kept trying to reconstruct how she'd gotten here, a place she had never been before in her entire life. The evening sun filtered through bedroom curtains to highlight crisply folded bed sheets stacked with several sets of well tailored men's clothes. All that was left of her tenant for this last half-year. What had happened?
April and May were whirlwinds.
Oddly the *least* intense moment had been the whispered revelation in the airport; Adrien and Chloé temporarily married for the sake of legal maneuverings. Adrien's sheepish grin when he told her and her own when he commented, "I figured it might save Tikki a transatlantic flight getting ahead on this one," had been surprisingly light memories. They parted on good terms, and while it was all still settling there was no pain this time, no worry. She didn't have to know how to act or feel, she could just let it come in time.
Back home, the end of Emma's term, finalizing and working out the kinks in distribution for her summer line while still floating on the bump from Style Queen's retirement, and an unexpected email seeking her interest in MCing the Summer show in London all piled up. The last one had come at the Dowager Queen's recommendation, another peace offering? No way Marinette could pass it up, so she heaped it on top of everything else.
Oh, and Felix still existed too.
Just the second guy she'd ever kissed. Just the guy she'd kissed for the first time while sitting on his bed, in her nightshirt, in a castle, owned by her former enemy, who was dating her ex-husband. She hadn't even told Alya yet, because she wanted to be able to enjoy the five or ten minutes of laughter Alya would get out of the whole thing. Oh, and he was still living under her roof too. No way that could possibly be awkward.
Only, it wasn't awkward. She almost wished it would have been. Between Emma and work Marinette crawled into bed at whatever hour and rolled back out when her body was willing to put up with further abuse. Felix receded into the background without ever mentioning the moment or hinting at the slightest ... anything. It made everything easier but she would have taken a little bit of difficulty for one of their dinners again. Maybe a wine-soaked meltdown again, she could let her heart be battered around a little just to see that patiently judging stare, just for that slight contact that conveyed more than a crushing embrace.
She'd meant to talk to him about it; to find the right way to approach it. In between everything else she was so sure she could set aside time to figure out how to address it. But between the vitamin spiked coffees (She wondered if he'd figured that one out himself) and bouts of complete torpor it never happened.
She'd taken Emma to the airport this morning then headed right over to work. June 1st, the day he'd always mentioned and it was just another day in the insanity of her workflow. She came home to silence. No Felix, no note. And now, everything she'd given him piled up neatly, as if he'd never been there. Marinette crossed the threshold, scanning. It was all clean. It was all perfectly arranged. There was nothing left to indicate anyone had lived here.
In a sudden panic she sifted through the clothing. She hunted for a missing button, a loose thread, an imprecise fold. She needed something to show they'd ever been worn; that she hadn't just imagined a whole person, but they gave her nothing.
Marinette pulled out her phone. This was stupid, she had his number right here. There were text messages. She realized she didn't have a new address. She had meant to ask, but everything...
She shook her head. She could just text him. She could text and ask. She typed out the message but each letter came slower.
Marinette: Hey, you forgot to leave me your new address. And were my clothes that bad that you didn't take-
She stopped, leaving the message unfinished. What if he didn't reply? What if he got a new number? Was this a clean break? Should she leave him alone? Had he been silently stewing, angry at her for that kiss? No, he would have mocked her for it by now, wouldn't he? She could hear it in the silence. Vexing Harlot! It wasn't right though, in her head the words always poured over with affection not anger.
Marinette took a deep breath. "Don't panic 'nette. There's no need to panic. This is silly. He was just a tenant. He was fun to have around, but you don't need to be all weepy. Get a hold of yourself, you're the head of a major brand. Crazy Woman." Those last words she said in his voice without thinking. Marinette bonked herself on the head. "No, it's nothing. It's a quiet house, no big deal. Tomorrow he'll throw a text, you'll check out his new place and it'll all just be a comfortable friendship again. That's all it ever was." Lies never served us well.
Marinette went about making herself a late dinner. She skipped a glass of wine, she wasn't keen on finishing a bottle alone. She could call her folks, they would probably love the company even if they would be going to bed soon. Her mom would stay up all night if she had to. No, leave them be. You're an adult.
Marinette ate in silence and cleaned the dishes. Thankfully she was still exhausted and it would be an early day even without having to get Emma to school. She crawled into bed, praying for sleep.
Two hours later she curled up with the neatly folded clothes on the twin bed in the barren room, and finally slept.
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June 2nd, waking up alone. She realized her phone was back in her own bedroom and sleepily padded in to fetch it. The message icon glowed up at her in the darkness. Marinette dove for the end table.
Adrien: Heya. Littlebug is all snugged and safe. Hope you're doing well. Let me know if you want a call with her sometime today. We should talk ourselves soon. I want to plan a birthday party in July, and I'll need your help. Love ya, ttyl.
Marinette had the common decency to feel ashamed she was disappointed in a message about her daughter's safety. She fired back a quick acknowledgement and set to getting herself functional for the day. By the end of her shower she'd centered herself but she's also given herself permission to be a grouch for the day. No one owed her anything and she didn't need anyone but she was also completely okay with being cantankerous in her loneliness.
She decided to make it a work from home day; people could deal with it. It was also a PJs day, and a glass of wine with lunch day. When the doorbell rang in the afternoon she had to unearth herself from her laptop and a very cozy pillowfort. She decided to answer the door with a sheet over her shoulders, it was easier than finding pants and might give whoever the idea she was not inclined to chat.
So, of course it was Felix standing there in the bright afternoon sun, fully dressed to the nines in his button down and vest combo. He had one hand behind his back in a classic atrisocractic pose but there was the briefest look of unease on his face as she opened the door then confusion, embarrassment, and that oh so familiar judgment as he took in her hermit-like attire. "Good Afterno-"
"Felix Graham, what the hell are you doing back here?" she gave him her best bedsheet glare, which was admittedly not very intimidating.
"I- um-" She had him on the ropes with that? "Am I not welcome at your door?" he asked with what appeared to be genuine concern.
"I just figured you wouldn't be back after leaving all the clothes I made for you behind and going radio silent."
Felix seemed to get his bearings again. "Radio silent? Nette, it was yesterday." That wasn't the proper stern tone, too soft. Was he humoring her?
"You could have texted."
"Apologies. I was moving in, stocking up, and running around Paris trying to get an entire life put together in one day." there was some condescension. It turned back over on itself though with the follow up. "I thought you would enjoy a surprise," genuine contrition?
Marinette's anger was having a hard time finding purchase, she settled for a sulky, "You still could have texted."
Felix frowned. "You could have as well."
Don't bring logic into this! Marinette adjusted her bedsheet. "You left all the clothes I made for you behind!" There, she had him on that one, perfectly reasonable anger.
Felix cleared his throat and looked away from her. "That- I- It just would not have been proper."
"Proper?! What kind of stuck up nonsense is that? I worked hard on those for you! They were fine while you were here, now you've got a real job and you're too good for my work?"
His eyes snapped back, anger met anger. "Whoever heard of a suitor calling upon a Lady in clothing he couldn't even afford to pay for himself?"
Marinette stalked out her door, who cared what the neighbors would think? "Listen here you aristocratic blowhard what do you mean-" The message got through the barrier of self pity, anger faltered. Marinette blinked,"What did you just-"
Felix cleared his throat again, anger fled from him too without an opponent. With eyes that couldn't quite meet hers now and a sudden drop in volume he brought his other hand forward and presented a full bouquet of red and white roses. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would you do me the honor of allowing me to take you to dinner this evening?"
Marinette hadn't had an honest to goodness short circuit in years. This was making up for lost time. "I-" she squinted at the flowers, up at Felix, down at the flowers. "You-" She reached for them with not one but both hands, her sheet-cloak falling away. She stopped just shy of taking them. "What-" She *did* manage to take them. "You want what?" They smelled divine. Marinette squinted back up at Felix. "Who are you?"
He'd recovered himself during her moment. Hand in the small of his back again he grinned down at her. "Apparently an aristocratic blowhard." His tone softened once more and he sought her eyes with his. "One who is asking you to dinner, Nette."
Marinette had a giggle trying to work its way up. She crinkled the paper wrapping the stems in her hands lightly, unsure if they would simply vanish if touched too hard. "You had to move out and leave everything, just so you could ask me out?" Why did that make such terrible logical Felix-sense?
"Of course I did. It wouldn't be-"
"If you say proper I will plant these somewhere on you where they'll be good and fertilized."
Felix snorted, but a grin tugged the corner of his lips. "You haven't answered me, Nette."
"You're an idiot. You're a hidebound jerk. You're an inconsiderate lout who wouldn't know how to make a girl happy unless he had the manual and it only used small words. You're a boorish overbearing nincompoop." Marinette was smiling from the beginning and grinning ear to ear by the end. She took another deep breath of her flowers. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes."
His grin had turned into a smirk as she talked, but the end threw him. "Fifteen? But it won't be dinner time for several hours."
"Felix, have I ever been patient?"
He actually paused and made a show of considering his answer. Ass. "Perhaps, while asleep?"
Marinette raised her bouquet as a weapon, but thought the better of it. "For that you owe me popcorn."
"Popcorn?" She had him lost again.
Marinette turned, smelling her roses again, and looked back over her shoulder coyly. "I am not an easy girl Mr. Graham. I expect dinner *and* a movie."
Felix gestured to her and noted. "That would hold more weight if you were wearing pants for once."
Marinette glanced down over her shoulder. She was still in her comfy oversized t-shirt, but static from the sheet had plastered it up in the back. He wasn't even hinting at a blush this time. She returned his smirk with her own. "Don't blame me later for the extra work you have to put in getting them off." A wiggle of her cotton-clad hips and there, now he was good and red. Marinette strutted her way back into the house, quite proud of herself.
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Bravado aside, the movie had been a brilliant bit of improv. It gave Marinette time to think about what she was getting into, what she wanted to talk about, and what she didn't. She kept stealing glances his way, and he must have been doing the same because every once in a while their eyes would meet and both would suddenly be keenly interested in the movie again.
God, what am I fifteen again? No, I'm not. Marinette stole another look. And I'm not going to pretend I am. She leaned over and whispered to him. "Would you mind if we grabbed food and just went home? Being out is really not what I want right now."
Felix frowned not in anger but thought. "You dressed up for a simple takeout."
She was. A pale pink blouse with a hint of ruffles, a dark blazer, light grey knee length skirt, and silver cat brooch all made for a business-y look, and having tied her hair back up into a bun added to the overall effect. Marinette the CEO.
Marinette reached up and fiddled with the double windsor that held Felix's tie in place, which earned her the instant disapproving look she expected while he settled it again. "I dressed to match my company Felix. You can enjoy staring at me at home, and I've got too much bouncing around in my head for a conversation at Le Cinq."
Of all things a smile found its way onto his face. He commented, "There's always something bouncing around in that head of yours isn't there?"
Marinette pinked slightly and tapped a fist to the side of the head in question,"Well, lots of empty space for bouncing, right?"
Felix's hand came up quick and precise, his fingertips snapped to her cheek but froze, pausing just short of touching her. Her breath caught in her throat, somehow the anticipation was more than the contact could have been. Yet the look in his eyes said he wasn't playing, as frozen in the act as she was by it. An internal struggle, his fingers brushing only air, "Hardly." he whispered.
The look in those stoic eyes; pain, dignity, contempt, adoration, restraint, fear. The barriers were down again. Just like that night in the castle, he had no idea what to do. She moved first, leaning enough to put her cheek in his hand. "Dinner be damned Felix, take me home. We're already very late."
Bless the man, he actually checked the time. Marinette grabbed his thick wrist before he could speak. "I'll explain in the safety of my own home. No one else in this theater needs to hear." She pulled him out of his seat, but he was right there with her as she stretched out her stride to steal seconds that somehow mattered so much at this moment.
What was she doing? This wasn't how it worked. What did she know of how it worked? She'd done it all wrong the first time. Knowing someone for two years before knowing them, all that history before even a hello. She was sifting through emotions and ideas a mile a minute. The calculating concerned looks she got and the silent car ride meant that she wasn't hiding it well either. This was different though, this wasn't a normal blow up. She had an answer, not six, just one. She had to wrap her head around it still. How would Felix react? Was it the right thing to do? She didn't know, but she didn't have to.
"Is this a wine-level explosion?" he asked once inside. She gave him a light elbow in the ribs for it.
"No, it's a 'sit your butt down and let me talk' level explosion." she countered, gesturing to the living room as she reached back to let her hair out of the bun.
Felix sat himself on the settee, elbows on knees and hands clasped. He did actually look concerned. Was she that frazzled on the outside? Well, this was not exactly what he'd expected most likely. Those patient eyes watched her with an unspoken 'Well?'
She sat beside him, her knee bumping against his in the closeness. Marinette pressed her hands together. "Felix, why did you ask me out?"
Put on the spot, he rose to the occasion admirably. Felix straightened and spread his hands. "It would seem self-evident. In the time I've known you you've been nothing short of a miracle. I don't mean simply in the help you provided, seeking to date someone out of gratitude would be horribly dishonest." Felix lightly tapped the back of his fist into the palm of his opposite hand as he continued. "Quick witted, compassionate, practical, exacting, dedicated and energetic almost to your own detriment, an astounding mother to Emma, you've demonstrated your quality time and again even in the face of recent hardships." Felix met her gaze. "What fool wouldn't court a woman like that?"
Marinette was surprised she didn't burn right through the sofa under such open yet calculated praise. His delivery was so characteristically dry and off putting, that's what made it so easy to believe. Marinette reached over and laid one small hand on both of his. "Felix, you *can* be romantic after all." she grinned. He gave her a sharp look but the edge faded quickly off it and she continued. "Do you love me Felix?"
His mouth hung open, and she couldn't blame him. She honestly didn't know if she was going to get the words out until she did. She couldn't get them out her first time down this path, for actual years. "I- You're-" Felix shifted uncomfortably and he averted his gaze. "You're a- remarkable woman Marinette. I-" His took his hands back, flexing his fingers in obvious frustration. "Isn't that what this is all about? Finding this sort of thing out? Who just asks?"
She was dragging him over the coals and she knew it. She hoped the purpose was worth it. "Well, I can tell you I don't love you Felix." Marinette shrugged out of her blazer and tossed it into a nearby chair. She looked back up at him with a challenging expression. "It's the honest truth. And no amount of dinners, movies, or walks will change that."
Those eyes flashed with a quick shock of pain, followed by spurned resentment but both were quickly overrun by that shrewd mind. Felix folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the cushions. "You're being deliberately cryptic."
Marinette grinned. "Woman's prerogative." she retorted. She unfastened her brooch and it ended up on top of her blazer. "Actually, I'm talking through my own thoughts, I want to get them out to both of us at the same time." She turned back and folded her hands in her lap again. "Felix, you've been in my house for half a year. We've had dinner together a hundred times. We've already spent evenings doing things big and mundane. You've been with me through my lowest points. You've held my daughter when she cried. I've seen your own character. I've seen who you are now, and it amazes me how much you've recast yourself. It's one thing to never falter in life, it's another to be driven low and rise from your own ashes." The smile she gave him welled up from inside her, the summation of every quiet glance, every gentle judging nudge, and not only those but every quiet need, every moment of weakness she could tend. It ached when it was in place but it was genuine.
"Felix, if I don't love you by now it's because I'm not letting myself. I'm twisted up inside in a way that dinners won't fix. So, I don't want dinners. I don't want courtship." She reached across between them. "I want you in my life. I've known that for a while now, but I wasn't sure if you wanted me in yours. Now that I know, can we just skip to the part where you are? Let me live like a woman in love, and I'm sure I'll find my own way out of the shell I'm in." The truth of her admission sent a thrill to her, and some little bit untwisted even at this much. Enough to give her hope. She suddenly felt vulnerable and dropped her gaze. "I know It's not exactly traditional."
Now she waited. One solution, give it time. Her nerves were trying to push more out of her mouth. She could do it his way. They could find a third way, or a fourth after that. Really she was a mess, he'd be better off going wouldn't he? Marinette tried to squish it all down inside of her.
"I'm afraid this is an unscheduled explosion, it'll cost you extra." was the answer.
Marinette looked up in confusion. His lifted chin, cold gaze, and stubbornly set jaw were so perfectly over the top she laughed before she could stop herself. A twinkle in one green eye gave him away and she laughed again, the anxiety drained away.
His expression shifted from cold to warm, he dropped his chin but stayed withdrawn, "What you're asking from me, I don't know how to do."
Marinette tucked her legs up under her on the settee. "Well, someone once told me," she pushed herself up on her knees and leaned in, catching herself with her hands on his folded arms, her nose almost touching his, "You don't have to."
He was able to hold her weight on just his forearms without difficulty. How strong was he? A little voice inside her head whispered, I want to know. She was embarrassed by her own thoughts but also free, this was fun. Scratch that, this *could* be fun, if only-
Felix smiled without dislodging her, "What on earth are you doing?"
Marinette squirmed on her knees, more of her weight wobbling in the lean. She touched her forehead to his and lightly squeezed those strong arms under her hands. "Coming on to you, silly. Am I that out of practice?"
He figured out at least a part of her game. Felix uncrossed his arms and for the briefest instant she was falling, but one hand caught both of hers in his broad palm, supporting her by one hand now. Marinette's stomach fluttered. His reply didn't sound strained. It was gentle. "I don't know, no one's ever come on to me before."
"Liar." she looked back up from his hand, her face once more inches from his. "I distinctly remember a night in an enchanted castle. You had a girl in a skimpy frock crawling across your bed." Why did I stop? Nerves. I didn't know what he really wanted.
He blinked. "Nette, was that really?" shocked out of that cool confidence.
Marinette bounced her weight up off of his hand and slipped her arms around his neck. "It might have been." She lightly brushed her lips against his cheek. "Do you want to find out?" Find out what's under that button down. Find out all the ways it can be different. Find out just how strong he is. Her words were steady but her cheeks were flush.
There, his arms around her waist, still infinitely gentle. The position was awkward, she turned and sat across his lap, snuggled within the sweep of his arms, though he'd have to lean down to kiss her, damn. "Nette." Embarrassment? Those green eyes were darkened by her words, but his features were shy. "I am loath to admit I thought I'd have more time. I haven't had the best background for experimentation." A self deprecating smile both familiar on a blond face yet uniquely his own. "I honestly, well, don't have the slightest experience." and a small laugh.
Ha! Did that make it more complicated, or just more fun? Why not both? Marinette felt an unexpected thrill at the idea and brought a hand up to flick the top button on his vest. "You don't have to." She teased. "I do." she undid the button. Her hand slipped into his vest and caught hold of his tie. With a cheeky grin, she gave a little tug.
No disapproving glare this time. She'd drawn him in too far. He cupped her chin, turned her face up to his, and leaned in with her tug. Those green eyes were still infinitely deep, but there was no more distance. She felt small against him, she loved it. His voice was still gentle, but there was a new rumble in that broad chest. "Are you sure?"
Marinette smiled and leaned up, bridging the space between their lips.
I don't have to be.
She was herself, and only herself for the entirety of it. Not once did the demanding haze of a needful first love come to crowd her out and make her a spectator. Without that separation the littlest touch could fill her up with sensations that had no escape. She was thankful it was his first, it might as well have been hers too.
She took her time, and he was patient with her. She satisfied her curiosity, learning all the lines of him. He was timid, such a change, and it took coaxing reassurance on her part; she would not break. When his final reserve was overcome and lust toppled hesitation she felt it again, that sensation of being so very small. Amid the fires coursing through along her nerves that additional thought sent her stomach into spirals and gave new energy to her hungry encouragement.
Floating in the warmth aftermath on crumpled sheets her post coital mind whispered the answer to her. Someone had been missing tonight. The hero of Paris in red and black spots had stayed away. For the first time she was only herself, little Marinette.
Marinette snuggled against Felix's broad chest. He was whispering but now she was finally being swept away and only a warm murmur sounded in her ears. Here, for him, Marinette alone had been enough. The realization made her... happy.