Marinette
The elevator signalled their arrival to the reception area of the building, the doors opening and Marinette's phone welcoming her back to the world of tabloid chaos.
Ping!
Ping!
Ping!
She wasn't a popular girl, and to have her phone signalling this many messages could only mean one thing, her parents were desperate to know what the hell was going on. At the moment she had zero idea what to say to them. Emma was a random toddler whose age she didn't know, where she came from and why she was calling herself Maman and Adrien Papa.
In a way she thought it was some sort of well constructed prank, but she couldn't deny the similarities between the child and both her and Adrien: the bright blonde hair and glowing green eyes, the shape of her face and depth of her eyes...she really was an intricate combination of the two of them.
An overwhelming feeling took over her, causing her to absentmindedly rub cheek into Emma's hair, taking in the softness and sweet, subtle baby scent. She didn't realise toddlers still had a smell, thinking that they lost it when they grew, but she was glad to say she was completely mistaken. Maybe it was the shampoo used, or even the smell of fabric conditioner from where she'd rubbed her head in her bedsheets, but the smell was heavenly — and she couldn't get enough.
Marinette looked down at the girl who had collapsed on her shoulder. The small child had worn herself out screaming, finally falling asleep from the gentle vibrations of the elevator. Her legs hung heavy as Marinette channelled some of her superheroes, determined not to make an even bigger idiot of herself and drop the child.
Her eyes flickered to the side, catching the sharp jawline of Adrien and she winced. Had she actually just shouted at him in a storage room? It was like something out of a romantic comedy... except it wasn't romantic and it definitely wasn't funny.
"Do you want me to hold her?" Adrien turned to look at her. His soft eyes and turned down eyebrows almost made him seem as awkward as she did. It was a shame he didn't feel that way in his father's office when he was about to explain exactly how he 'knocked her up'.
"I know I have a lot to explain," Adrien said softly and quietly as they made their way towards the exit where an escort was already preparing to take them to a car. A crowd had already started to gather outside the building and she was glad Adrien had the forethought to call ahead for security.
Adrien stopped her before they reached the door, placing a hand on her elbow and turning her slightly to face him. "Please," he begged, "trust me."
"I don't know you well enough to trust you," Marinette whispered, turning and continuing towards the door. Emma was weighing her down and she needed to get into the car before they both ended up in a heap on the floor. Maybe Adrien should have carried her?
She stepped through the glass doorway as Adrien held it open for her, catching the quiet words leaving his lips as she passed. "In some other time and place, you did."
Choosing to ignore that comment. Marinette climbed into the back of the waiting car, keeping herself and Emma's heads blocked in hope the few press members wouldn't catch any evidence of her newly found parenthood.
She caught a glimpse of a car seat, one perfectly sized for Emma, and manoeuvred around to place the sleeping toddler inside it, hoping the movement didn't wake her up. The sound of the door slamming behind her caused her to turn and give the guilty party a death glare.
He waved his hands in surrender, her eyes rolling involuntarily as she turned back to buckle in Emma.
"Are you going to explain this to me?" Marinette said, settling herself in the seat beside her sleeping child.
"Yes. Just... as soon as we get back to mine I promise I'll explain."
"Back to yours?" she questioned. Oh, bother! What had she let herself in for?
The words processed in her head – she was about to 'visit' Adrien Agreste's apartment with 'their' daughter. She felt every single inch of her Ladybug resolve disappear. She could physically feel herself shrink back into the chair, once more becoming the blubbering Marinette Dupain-Cheng who was nothing more than a schlub.
"Are you okay?" A hand touched her shoulder and she almost created a Marinette shaped hole in the roof.
"Yeah, yeah... I'm fine," she lied, looking away from the heart throb. The heartthrob whose picture had lined most of her walls from the age of 12 to... well... she'd need to remove some things from her wall if he ever visited the bakery.
The sudden vibration and sound effect coming from her phone almost sent her onto the roof again. This was insane!
Pulling the phone from her side bag, she gave Tikki an apologetic smile only for the kwami to smile back in understanding. If Tikki was smiling maybe this wasn't all that bad; she just needed to channel her kwami's strength and... oh, who was she kidding nothing good was going to come from this lie. To distract herself from overthinking the situation, Marinette pulled her phone from her pocket.
Big mistake.
Her eyes widened as she read the amount of notifications on her phone; names of people she hadn't spoken to in years, and numbers she didn't recognise danced across the screen. She continued to scroll down: Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp, messages, emails... It went on and on. Her thumb hovered over the screen with the intent to see what was on Instagram, however a hand shot out and stopped her.
"I —" He coughed before starting again. "I wouldn't look at any of your social media accounts. Rarely is there anything positive posted on there so it might be worth avoiding it for the next week or so, my father and his team will deal with the PR side of things."
Adrien's warm hand over hers made her heart dance to the beat of the Conga. It was strange but reassuringly comforting. The feeling was so overwhelming considering the simplicity of the action; one that had her eyes burning and nose tingling.
"Hey, hey, it's okay."
Without knowing quite what was happening a splash rebounded off her phone screen, wetting her cheek on its way down. Great! Now she was crying in front of Adrien Agreste. In a matter of seconds the trembling, 'film noir' crying turned into full slasher movie sobbing, and it wouldn't stop.
"We'll be at my place soon and we can discuss this. We can fake a break up asap, we just need to pretend something happened. Whatever you want. Seriously, Marinette, I'll do whatever you want. I'm so stupid."
For some reason his kind, reassuring words made her cry harder. The thought that this man would care enough to do whatever she wanted was amazing, but nothing made sense. Why did he feel like he needed to be so nice to her? She was 'a nothing' and he was 'a something' – they didn't fit together.
Her phone began to vibrate again in her hands, the flash of her maman's face increased the tears free flowing from her eyes. She was going to be drier than the Sahara desert at this rate.
"Marinette, would it be okay if I?" He nodded down towards her phone, the screen turning black before igniting once again with the smile of her mother. Worried the continuous buzzing noise was going to wake up Emma, Marinette handed the phone over to Adrien and reached in her bag for a tissue. Someone had to speak to her parents and right now there was no chance she could.
As her fingers threaded together, she began to play with the smoothness of her painted nails, ending at the quick and starting to pick.
"Hello? Hi, it's Adrien Agreste."
Adrien went silent as he spoke to her mother, every now and then his eyes meeting hers. The voice of her mother sounded out through the speaker in a muffled hum, Marinette intently trying to pick up words as she picked at her nail varnish and nibbled on her bottom lip.
"I understand... yes there is a lot that needs to be explained and I would prefer if we could do this face to face."
Marinette couldn't help but marvel at how confident Adrien sounded, his voice reassuring yet authoritative, like he knew what he wanted from the discussion on the other side of the phone and he was determined to get it.
"I completely understand, but Marinette isn't feeling too well at the moment and I don't want to disturb her whilst herself and Emma are asleep." He looked over to her with an apologetic smile, but her heart was too busy skipping beats as he lied for her, understanding the way she was feeling at the moment and even standing up to her parents.
Thank you, she mouthed. Adrien responded with a 'you're welcome' as he continued to listen in on the conversation with her parents.
"Yes., I'm sure she is," he said down the receiver. "How about you come around to mine tonight, I'll – we'll – tell you everything you want to know."
Nodding his head, Marinette couldn't help but feel like, although angry, her parents were going to give them this opportunity before kicking her ass. Once she knew what the hell was happening, she'd have the opportunity to talk to her parents and explain what she knew. She just had to know first.
"Is there anyone else you want me to talk to?" Adrien said, ending the call and handing the phone back over to her. She took it gratefully and placed it back down into her bag, giving Emma a quick glance and marvelling at how content this child was.
Marinette shook her head. "No, there's only really Alya and Avery, and I can message them later. I don't really have any other friends."
Silence engulfed the car again; however, this time it was Adrien's phone that broke the lull in conversation. As Adrien answered his phone in a professional yet friendly way. Marinette began to look through her own – sticking to the messages and not social media.
The messages continued to arrive, a repetitive buzz sending quivers through her arm. There were a couple more messages from Juleka and one from Luka. More unknown numbers and double the amount of messages from Alya and Avery. She hadn't got the brain capacity to deal with more than just the people she knew, so in distraction she pulled up Alya's number, and typed a message.
Alya
MarinetteI know you're desperate to know what has happened, and I promise I'll explain what I can tomorrow. But I'm okay and Adrien is being nothing but sweet.
Copying and pasting the message, she pulled up Avery's number and sent the same message to her friend.
Tomorrow would be an interesting day... that's if they could find a babysitter.