Disclaimer: A rewrite WITH PERMISSION FROM THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR, HiddenEye.
I just made a few satanic tweaks.

She was invited.

Of course she was invited, she was one of the few people he was actually close with, it would seem rude if he didn't invite her to his special event. Even if, she wasn't the one he was getting married to.

He invited her parents too, out of sheer politeness if she guessed correctly, knowing Adrien. He had met her parents and had pleasant conversations with them before when he visited the bakery a long time ago, and they actually liked him, said he was a nice boy and he should come again sometime, just to talk to them.

Imagine her horror back then.

She was sitting at her desk in her room, her elbows propped on the desk as the morning sun shone onto her face, highlighting the bags under her eyes and the tired lines around them, running across her skin softly. She supported her head from falling flat on the surface by clasping her hand onto her forehead, staring down at the crisp white card laying on her desk.

Marinette couldn't stop staring at it. A simple white card with golden flowers swirling at the corners, simple yet beautiful. The envelope was set aside neatly under it, and she had been careful when she teared the edge with a mail opener, her hands shaking from emotions that thundered inside her, never ending since last night.

(She cried herself to sleep, the pain in her chest becoming hollower every second as exhaustion took hold on her, leaving her an empty shell.)

She traced his name with a finger, cursive and gold, just like him. Just like him. Golden locks she always loved passing through her fingers like water as she giggled against his mouth, his body warm and inviting as she felt the way his arms wrapped around her with care and possessiveness he always gave out whenever he was with her, the hum that rumbled in his throat vibrated under her fingers made her skin tingled with exhilaration. His eyes were flecked with gold and emerald, looking into her soul as she traced the way his face was structured. From his pronounced cheek bones to his sharp jaw and soft lips, he was golden inside and out, spreading in his veins with such wonder as if he could rival the gods at their element.

(The love that left unsaid hung between them breathed down their necks like vulcans ravished for food, and yet, both of them refused to give in, and instead make themselves content in the pit they've dug themselves to rot.)

He had always been beautiful in her eyes, and she will never forget that. Marinette leaned back onto her chair, feeling a wave of grief passing over her as she ran her fingers through her hair, pushing her bangs back as she forced out a breath to calm herself. She couldn't cry anymore, it was as if she used her tears to the limit, and she was okay with that really, her eyes was swollen from excessive amounts of them. Tikki was observing her with worry from where she sat on the desk.

"You don't have to go," the kwami told her softly. "I know it hurts you more than anything."

Marinette shook her head, glancing down to her. "He invited me, I can't just leave him," she paused, letting go of her hair as she sank onto the desk, her chin on her arm. "Anyway, Mama and Papa are going, they would ask questions that I wouldn't want to answer later on if I don't go."

Tikki sat beside her, her tiny body pressed against Marinette's arm. "You're too selfless," she whispered. "Sometimes I worry about you for giving your heart out too freely."

Marinette gave her a sad smile. "I was taught to love, and it got stuck into a habit."

"To love everyone?"

She shook her head. "To love what you have in front of your eyes."


Adrien adjusted his bow tie in front of the full length mirror, his body stiff with internal turmoil as his fingers worked swiftly to twist the bow tie to take its shape. He smoothed down the last crinkles of the black fabric, positioning it in a way that it would be perfect, one of the things that his father had drilled into his head ever since his mother passed away.

It's been half a year since he last saw her, half a year since he last talked to her.

He tugged the bow tie a little sharper before he let his hands down, observing his reflection. Thank god he was alone, because he looked like absolute trash. Drained, that was the first thing he saw in the mirror of himself as he saw the way his eyes reflected back at him. There was no life, absolutely no sort of emotion that was even considered closed to joy since he was, in fact, getting himself involved with a woman he had no interest in whatsoever.

His life was being gambled with men trying to groom their business, and he was the chip his father tossed to the centre of the table. He felt disgusted, what kind of a man uses his own son to his advantage? Telling him to do something as big as getting married to someone he didn't want to? Just so he could be successful? He lost someone he truly love all because of that.

Adrien pinched between his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger as he turned away from the mirror, feeling the pressure bubbling inside him again, and his feet started pacing around the room of their own record as he tried to calm himself down. There was a knock on the door that made him pause, straightening himself up as he cleared his throat. "Come in."

When he saw Nino poking his head in, Adrien blinked once, before continuing on his aggressive walk on the carpeted floor, his hands going through his hair that he messed it all up again after he repaired it the forth time earlier. Nino came in and closed the door quietly behind him, his suit looking sharp as he watched the way his best friend was tearing himself apart.

"Hey man," he called out quietly, as if advancing an animal in a cage, afraid that the blonde man would break so soon before his own wedding. "Need any help?"

"Yeah," Adrien laughed bitterly as he continued moving. "Kill me now and make it look as if it was an accident, or say you found me dead because I killed myself, say I couldn't handle everything that's going on right now because I don't care."

Nino sighed, walking towards his distressed friend. "I wish it was that easy, Adrien, but it's your father we're talking about here, and the whole of Paris is gonna know about your wedding with Chloe, she's particularly the mayor's daughter. Look," he grabbed hold of Adrien's shoulder and made him stay put. "It's not the end of the world, you can still go through this. How about you just divorce her after a year of brandy life and end it? Then, you'll be free."

Adrien raised an eyebrow. "You just said that this wasn't supposed to easy and immediately after that you said that I get a divorce just like that? With the mayor's daughter? Where the tabloids would go berserk over the fact that Adrien Agreste dared to ask for a divorce from the mayor's daughter because for the fact he rather get married with another woman?"

Nino winced. "Okay, I realised my mistake." Adrien ran his fingers through his hair again, almost gripping them in frustration. "Je suis niqué."

They didn't say anything in the quiet room, and when Adrien finally let go of his hair, he sighed, meeting his friend's stare. "Are the guests here?" he muttered, the energy sapping out fast, his shoulders sagging slightly from the invisible weight that seemed to be balancing on his shoulders.

Nino nodded, patting his friend's shoulder once before steering the man to the mirror. "Everyone's almost here, just gotta wait for the bride to walk down the aisle," he trailed off, as if he didn't know whether he should continue as he watched Adrien fix his hair. He went on anyway. "And then you'll be having a photo shoot session in front of Notre Dame, before all of us would be going to the hotel the mayor booked where the reception would be held. And then it'll be over."

It almost sounded as simple as Nino explained, but he knew better. All through that time he would be keeping up a facade, easily slipping into an easy smile and polite talks that was reserved for the eyes of everyone who didn't know how his soul looked like. The tilt of his lips would easily fool the cameras that captured it even if his insides were churning with displeasure, his cold manner would be mistaken for mysterious behaviour that women would gush about, writing lies upon lies in magazines about how Adrien Agreste would indeed be your ideal man.

It was easily like acting, and he should win an Oscar for being so good at it. Adrien stared into his reflection again, straightening himself up as he tried to gather his wits.

"Alright," he said finally. "Let's get this over with."

As they walked down the hallway, Nino nudged him slightly to whisper to him. "Is she coming?"

Adrien's steps faltered for a while, before he continued his walk quickly, ignoring the way his heart clenched with pain. "I don't know."


She shouldn't be surprised at how grand this wedding was going to be. And yet, amongst the dulled pain she had inside her, she couldn't help but feel the slight amazement that ignited inside her chest when she saw the decorations inside the church, with red and pink roses decorated the across the aisle beautifully, it's petals bloomed to its limit. The sun was shining brightly from the windows, enlightening the whole space like a warm halo.

She saw that most people had taken their seats, and she saw that Gabriel Agreste sat at the front among other people of high authority, talking quietly and giving out a nod here and then. He wore his normal attire of tailored suits and polished shoes, his hair sleek back without so much a stray.

Marinette noticed that he didn't seem particularly overjoyed like most fathers would when they sent off their sons to get married, then again, she never saw him in an excellent mood ever. She quickly took a seat with her parents somewhere around the back, sitting at the far edge near the wall as she saw more people walked in with their glamorous dresses and expensive looking suits. Suddenly, she felt self aware of the fact that what she wore something as simple as a baby pink dress she made a week or so before the event.

But unknown to her, people had admired her work from afar as the dress flowed to her knees, the diamond studs accumulated from her stomach before they spread across the satin of her skirt, and some climbed across her chest. To top it all off, she wore white heels and brought a clutch with her, with her hair tied into a bun at the top of her head.

Her breath was stuck at her throat when she saw him walking out of a door with Nino at his heels. He stood at the altar, adjusting the cufflinks at his sleeves as Nino was trying to crack a joke for his ears only. He shot Nino a wry smile as his best man adjusted his bow tie, straightening his suit to get rid of possible crinkles.

She took a small breath to calm herself down when suddenly she felt a hand on hers.

"Are you okay?" her mother, sweet loving mother, asked quietly as she met her gaze. "You seem," her mother paused, observing her daughter's face like a hawk, and she hoped there was nothing to show as she carefully hid her turmoil behind a mask. "Uncomfortable."

Marinette gave her a smile. "It's nothing," she replied with an assured squeeze of her mother's hand. "It's just that, there's so many people of authority here, it's making me jittery."

Her father snorted softly when he overheard the conversation. "They're people like us, you've got nothing to worry about."

Her mother nodded. "That's right."

Marinette shook her head slightly in wonder at her parents' reactions, before looking up to the altar, where Adrien was staring straight at her unbashfully.


She was here. She actually came.

He was letting Nino do some last touch ups for his bow tie when he spotted her father first. Her father was a large man, so it was quite easy to see him among the crowd, with his petite wife beside him. And then, she was there. His heart lurched in his chest when he saw her. Her head was bowed slightly as she talked to her mother, a soft look on her face as she replied something that was only meant for them.

She was absolutely stunning, making butterflies flutter inside him everytime he saw her. It was an immediate reaction, he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. And then she looked up, where she met his stare with a surprised look on her face, as if she couldn't believe that he was staring at her without shame when he was right in front of so many people. He almost laughed at the thought.

My Lady, you should known me by now.

He realised with a start that he couldn't call her that anymore, never again in their lives.

She looked away from him first, and he noticed the pained look on her face she tried to hide, and his heart reached out to her once more.

"Hey." It took him a while to tear his gaze away from her. Some sort of understanding flashed across Nino's face when he followed his line of sight, before giving Adrien a pitiful smile and a pat on the shoulder. "It's time."

They stood at their places, holding their breaths. And then, it started. He couldn't pay attention to the flower girl when she first came in. His eyes flickered to Marinette once in a while, where she was pointedly avoiding his gaze as she watched the flower girl threw petals to the floor. He was becoming fidgety again, his skin crawling with some sort of need to just go to her and take them away from here.

"Adrien," Nino hissed at the corner of his mouth. "Hold still."

Once the ring bearer and the brides maids were up, the music started, causing everyone to stand up. He felt the dread sinking in his gut. Chloe came into the church with her father at her hand, and he was starting to panic because no, this wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't the woman he was supposed to see walking down the aisle towards him. She wasn't supposed to sit among other people to watch him getting married to someone else other than her. He felt a pinch on the back of his arm.

"Goddammit man," Nino breathed out. "People will notice."

He tried to at least calm himself, making everyone believe he was nervous from excitement rather than the fact that he very much wanted out. Before Chloe was passed to him, he saw at the corner of her eye that Marinette had gotten up, her phone in hand as she answered it on her way out of the church, closing the door quietly behind her that it hardly made a sound.

"Take care of her," the mayor told him with a gruff as Chloe took his arm, where she flashed him a smirk as they faced the priest.

Adrien tried to listen to what the priest was saying, but found it difficult when all he could think of was Marinette, with her dark hair he used to run his fingers with and her soft lips he once tasted. It was very hard to see what was in front of him when he just saw the love of his life came to his own wedding instead of being beside him at the moment.

"Do you, Adrien Agreste, take Chloe Bourgeois, as your wedded wife?"

He could feel the stares that were aimed to him, the looks of criticism as they waited for him to answer. Of course, they were expecting him to agree to this, to say yes, and if he didn't, well, something bad would clearly happen later on. He could feel Chloe squeezing his arm impatiently when he was quiet for too long.

"Say it," she hissed, shooting him a glare. "Get this over with."

Licking his lips, he glanced at Nino, to which his best man answered with a raise of eyebrows.

He took a deep breath. His breathing was coming faster. He can't stop his heart, thudding far too quickly and far too loudly. The blood rushed in his ears, drowning out all sound. He licked his lips again, his mouth too dry. His tongue felt too large for his mouth, it felt like a dead fish.

"Adrien!" Chloe hissed again. He could see her clenching her bouquet, the fabric of her satin gloves tightening over her knuckles. He felt the stares more acutely, the gazes like fire on his back.

"Adrien?" Nino's voice cut over the rush in his ears.

"I-" Adrien wanted to throw up. "I do."

No sooner were the words out of his mouth that he head soft sighs of what he presumed to be relief from the captive audience behind him. When the priest turned to Chloe he was smiling, but no wider than she. He glanced at Nino, who was frowning at him with concern. He could feel the air becoming lighter. He hated it. How can everyone be so happy when the air felt thick and suffocating to him?

"You may kiss the bride."

Nino surreptitiously nudged him and pointed with his chin to Chloe, who was facing him with a wide smile under her veil. Trying to stop his hands from shaking too much, he lifted the veil over her head and she angled her head towards him, eyes already closed.

'A peck,' he thought as he leaned forward. No sooner had his lips made contact with hers, Chloe's hands shot up and clasped his head. The audience gasped. Adrien tried to pull away. These lips were too slick, too cold. There was no warmth in them; it was like kissing ice.

When she finally released him, Adrien leapt back with a gasp and the audience laughed like it was a good show. But all he saw was Marinette, just coming in, looking like she was slapped in the face. No, worse. She had always been pale, something he loved about her. Pale face with warm, pale lips. Now her face was drained of blood. White lips, pale face.

Shakily, she gathered herself and made her way to her seat. She shot her mother a quick smile that wobbled and sat down. When she finally raised her eyes, he didn't know her anymore.

After the reception, the guests were milling about, enjoying the meal and the lovely weather. She stayed the entire time, smiling and shaking hands with everyone. Even as he climbed into the limousine, he watched her. As they drove away, he watched her waving at them with everybody else. She was too strong for her own good.