AN: So this really did turn into a 30k story, and as much as I want to turn it into more chapters I won't. I'd be glad to accept one-shot prompts via PMs or tumblr (xiueryn), if anyone's interested. Thank you for the kind support.

Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc

After the kiss, Marinette hadn't quite plucked up the courage to make it into work by the time her alarm was ringing the next morning. The moping around was pathetic, and she couldn't stand it after being awake for mere minutes. The dark-haired female firmly slapped her cheeks, gave her cliché words of comfort within the small bathroom mirror before making an important decision.

Breaking the full-length mirror forcefully, perhaps by punching or throwing anything hard at the glass, was out of the question. It seemed liked she'd be damaging a part of herself from how long it had been kept close to her—her parents had originally wanted it for their living room when she was packing up to travel to her own place, but she'd adamantly refused. Maybe, after enough time had passed where her heart wouldn't ache awfully by looking at the frame, she could gift it back to her parents for them to admire. It would take a while for that, though. In the meantime, Marinette covered the mirror with a thick fabric that was heavy enough to stay without having anything pinning it down.

With a determination, she'd strut into work with the intention to fully forget what had happened.

Adrien didn't mention the kiss, but that didn't mean that his actions hadn't changed. All those months ago, she'd told herself to give him up—to let herself be free, explore the options of affections that could be given, but that had backfired awfully by running into his café. And yet, as she brushed by the blond-haired male and delivered hot beverages to an enthusiastic couple, she couldn't find it in herself to regret it.

It had brought hurt, yes; but the warm feelings and just knowing him had outweighed the sadness that sometimes erupted and coursed through her. Wanting more wasn't going to cause anything productive to happen, so she stuffed those feelings tightly away, for a melancholic day where she could sniffle over her problems in the dark.

He had taken to looking at her more. Whereas she would sneak glances at him during their time together at work, it soon became clear that he was peering at her more often than not. Marinette had been bewildered the first time their gazes had locked across the room, so much so that she stumbled over a grumbling Bridgette (before she ran away into a box to hide for the rest of the day). There had instantly been heat upon her cheeks, and through the weeks the intensity wasn't diminishing as they stole peeks at each other.

Their conversations were much the same; friendly, teasing, and about the pesky cats surrounding them. While his never uttered the words that something had changed between them, his body language did. Adrien stood closer than before, within elbow distance so they could jostle each other while working on the food in the early mornings, and she'd stiffened considerably the first few times it had happened. He never spoke his apologies when they knocked into each other while decorating, either.

Perhaps he'd found her greatest weakness. When she'd apply too much pressure to a piping bag from their touching arms, and make a noise of surprise from the fault, the blond flashed her an apologetic smile that showed his sincere dimples instead—and that was the problem. Any words of teasing complaints that she would've normally uttered dissolved upon her tongue when such a soft expression was directed her way, and time wasn't lessening the impact.

During one of her drunken evenings with Alya, while sipping wine and watching a particularly gory horror film, she had confessed that she didn't know what was going on between her and Adrien. Rather than offering sound advice, the red-haired female had burst into laughter, and the giggles were soon an endless supply. There were tears coming from her eyes, cheeks red, and all her best friend could say was that she'd never thought the day would come where Marinette would seek advice—then she promptly told her that it wasn't her forté, and to simply go along with what felt right.

So, when she arrived at work the next morning with cheeks tinged pink from the brisk morning air, Marinette had given herself a quiet talk filled with encouraging words that surely made the individuals she passed upon the street cast her inquisitive looks. The spotted umbrella was stashed in a handy plastic bin just past the front door after she'd unlocked it, keys sounding loudly among the noises from the morning birds. The door to the kitchen was open, the gaudy beads that used to cover it gone from Lila deciding to play with them far too enthusiastically (they had fallen upon her, and she somehow managed to get away unharmed). A breeze of sweet smelling air wafted through the café as she padded through, aware of the squelching noise her wet noises were making.

There was a shelf she used to keep spare clothes and shoes within the storage room. She'd have to make a detour after applying the finishing touches to their products.

Adrien was working intently at cutting different fruits in intricate shapes to use as decorations. His golden eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, eyes downcast solely on the food, and the attire was one she was very familiar with; the baggy white t-shirt that suffocated him, a wrong order from an online store that he insisted on keeping, along with drawstring pyjama bottoms that were a deep shade of black with white paw prints upon the legs. On the days where he hadn't slept well, or felt under the weather, he did the morning baking in his pyjamas, no matter how many times she scolded him.

Leaning against the nearest counter, Marinette asked softly, "What kept you up last night?"

The timing was perfect. If she had been ten seconds earlier, the jump of surprise he had done would've caused the knife to slice into his finger; instead, it clattered to the countertop as he swivelled his head in her duration and narrow his bloodshot eyes.

"Good morning to you, too." Adrien huffed.

"You look terrible," she pointed out, hands supporting her weight on the countertop. "Why don't you try and sleep for a few hours, while I handle things down here?"

As always, he rejected the offer. He was stubborn when he wanted to be—which meant, if she was trying to swindle him out of work. The condition for her taking over various jobs for him to simply sleep in was to pay her extra, and that felt unfair as it was. The finances were not part of her job. She assumed he was doing well because of the constant customers, and hopefully wasn't spending too much attempting to maintain the café, but there was the fact that he was so young—they were both—and trying to do it alone, as he had never mentioned support from any family. His father, maybe siblings, were sure to be overseas, still, while he was living alone in another land in a busy city.

"No can do, Marinette," he murmured, wiping his hands. "Those two terrors up there were playing until three o'clock. I think I'm going to go insane soon."

That made sense, then. Marinette stifled her laughter at his disgruntled expression, and answered that she completely understood. Tikki had immediately bonded with the black-haired feline that lived in the apartment upstairs, and she hadn't made her way down into the shop yet. It was unclear whether Adrien wanted to keep her tucked away until she was bigger—and had her shots from the veterinarian—or if he wasn't ready to separate the two just yet. Plagg hadn't been a big fan of the other cats that lived within the café, but it seemed that having a small kitten that would avidly attempt to copy his movements and search for comfort within his fur had caused him to be a unwilling brother figure. He hadn't ventured downstairs since her arrival, and the kitten's playfulness combined with how often Plagg was mischievous was altering Adrien's free time and sleeping schedule.

She grinned. "Were you ever sane?"

His lips twitched from trying not to laugh. Adrien crept closer, an exaggerated offended expression upon his face. After reaching for the decorating that was riddled with icing and other such stains, he made a circling motion with his index finger with the intention for her to turn around. Putting up no fight, she allowed him to tie the apron from behind.

"You love me as I am," he pointed out candidly, "even if you think I'm insane."

The burn upon her cheeks made an expected appearance. He had no idea, truly, how she felt. A soft bittersweet smile tugged upon her lips as she replied, "If I say yes, your ego will cause you to inflate."

"Oh, what a terrible employee I've hired," Adrien remarked, voice dramatic and breathy. "How many warnings shall I have to give you before you realise I'm perfect?"

She snorted at his behaviour. "I'll pinch you."

As they faced each other, he placed a hand on the baggy t-shirt, over the area of his heart with a deep frown. "You wound me, Marinette."

"This loyal employee will get to work now, sir," the dark-haired female responded, shaking her head at his suddenly chirpy mood.

Working through the different decorations that needed to be done, Marinette focused on being productive than mulling over his sleepy gaze at her. After a few minutes of the silence only filled with clatters of utensils, Adrien released an audible yawn and stretched his arms above his head, eyes closed and brows furrowed from the movement. The dark-haired female peeked up from her work, taking in that the absurdly large t-shirt didn't rise far enough to show his stomach as his others shirts did (somewhere along the line, she'd decided that admiring his body wasn't something to feel guilty over). Her face displayed her curiosity when she looked up to meet his watery bright eyes, deciding to shrug and grin at being caught staring rather than making a scene about it.

Adrien laughed and announced that he was disappearing to get dressed. She could hear his footsteps up the creaky staircase as he walked.

Sleepy Adrien had managed to walk into their front door, break a mug full of a hot beverage, and fall over a customer in the span of two hours. He had apologised profusely to the customers, saying he'd pay for their visit as his gesture of being sorry, and when he reached the till and tripped over the ever-wandering Bridgette, Marinette had decided it was enough.

He blinked, bewildered, when she demanded that he take a nap upstairs while she looked over the shops. When it became clear that he wasn't going to agree, Marinette hooked her hands around the material of his half-apron, tugging him forward by the material and started towards the direction of the stairs. He made half-hearted noises of protest, and she ignored every one of them with a firm shake of her head.

"Fine," the blond said, sighing. "If I'm not down in an hour, you're going to march up here and wake me up, okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir."

The day continued until closing time. She ignored his begrudging request to wake him up, and it seemed liked a thoroughly good idea by the amount of time his nap had elapsed. There had been questions from the customers, enquiries from the students that trailed in after their day of education, wondering where the blond-haired owner had wandered off to. Although she was the only employee at the café, the majority of the eyes that came through the front door were there for Adrien. The café had been successfully mentioned within magazines and blogs on the Internet, and they were thriving despite the rainy weather. Sopping wet customers came in, flashed her a smile and settled down in the heated room, admiring the energetic felines that were all too happy to play with whoever gave them attention.

Armed with a mop, Marinette cleaned the floors after the doors had closed and the sign had flipped to display that they were done for that day. The calming music that was playing through the speakers was soothing to listen to, and she found herself humming along to the rhythm and moving her arms in time. The impromptu dance was incredulously silly, sure to be embarrassing if anyone looked within the windows to witness it, and the various cats either watched her move around strangely or flinched from the suddenly actions and hid away behind different objects. She laughed at their reactions, particularly when Félix's tail began to swish in much the same rhythm as the music unintentionally.

"Don't stop on my account," a soft voice drawled behind her, "I was enjoying that."

Marinette snorted, leaning upon the top of the mop. "I'll have you know that I took ballet classes."

"Oh, it certainly showed," Adrien replied, a hand rubbing his face languidly as he yawned and stretched his arms once again. The overly large pyjamas were back on, making him appear younger than he really was. "Your audience wasn't too fond of your moves, though."

She grinned. "Tough crowd."

"I bet." His expression was still tinged with sleepiness (eyes drooping, indents upon his face from where the pillow had been), and while she put the cleaning supplies back once more, Adrien murmured, "Couldn't you wake me with a kiss? I've heard that's all the rage for waking someone up in films."

At the mention of a certain activity, her eyes snapped towards him to try and decipher his expression—Adrien was busy scanning the different felines, peering behind objects to get to them and making a quiet whistling to catch their attention, to make sure they were all present for the evening.

Humour was the best reply she could think of. "That only happens to princesses, Adrien."

"That's rude," he replied, stumbling for a moment before regaining his balance against the wall. Lila had darted past, her brown-coloured fur becoming a blur as she hit behind the display case for their products. "I think princes would want to be kissed sometimes, too."

"In their sleep?" the dark-haired female questioned, raising her eyebrows as he looked at her briefly to show an unimpressed expression. "Even if it's a kiss of true love, I wouldn't want to be kissed by a stranger. I think it would be terrifying to wake up to, actually." And the words she spoke were the truth—if it was Adrien, however, then it was a different story.

"I can think of worse things to wake up to," he quipped, lifting cushions into the air to make sure felines weren't burrowed beneath them. "And if we're on the subject of seeing strangers, then I think the mirror legend would be awfully freaky to suddenly see."

They hadn't spoken about the topic since that brief mention many months ago. Marinette smoothed the wrinkles from her shirt, choosing to stare at the crinkled material instead of risking meeting his eyes—the brief flash of hurt across her expression would've been easily identifiable. They'd kissed before, yes, but nothing more had come from it; or, rather, they simply kept stealing glances of each other without pursuing any further. Gnawing on her lower lip, she wandered closer to the searching male, feet stopping just beside him.

"And why is that?" she asked, voice soft, barely audible.

The cushion in his hands fell to the floor loudly, echoing within the room. Bridgette made a noise of complaint from the sudden action. Adrien stretched his arms out in front of him, causing the baggy t-shirt to crease with his movements, and titled his head as he met her cerulean eyes. "Why wouldn't it be?" he replied rhetorically, not searching for an answer. "I can't imagine how it happens, but having someone's face suddenly appear in my mirror would probably cause me to scream."

"I don't think it's quite how some of the stories depict it," Marinette pointed out, the half-smile across her lips self-deprecating. "How would a floating head appear? I don't think that's it at all."

He didn't answer for a few moments. Instead, Adrien regarded her with a guarded expression before finally raising his eyebrows and saying, "And what do you think it would be like?"

"We've spoken about this before."

The answer didn't sway him from pursuing her opinion. "Will you tell me again?" the blond requested, voice a mere whisper. "I think I'd like to hear it again."

There was no doubt that he wouldn't laugh at her opinion since he hadn't the first time around. Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, gazing at his sincere expression in a new light and wondering just why he was questioning her about it, once again. Their previous discussion had been cut off by him saying that he didn't believe it, that he never would, and that individuals needed to believe in themselves, rather than seeking a partner that would never appear within their mirrors. She had expressed her thoughts that it would only work with a full-length mirror, and he'd expressed how lonely and one-sided her opinion was. It wasn't just a theory to her, though—she'd lived through it for over five years, and the object of her affection and inner-turmoil was standing before her, tentatively asking to hear the tale once more.

"No," she whispered, voice cracking. Marinette resisted the urge to avert her eyes, and continued to glance at his suddenly concerned expression. "It's as you said before—we're our own soulmates."

Whatever answer he had been searching for, the one she had supplied was sufficient enough. Adrien's face visibly brightened; lips curling into a sincere grin, meeting his eyes and showing the slight dimples of his cheeks, and she found herself smiling softly right back from how positive he was. Even clad in oversized pyjamas, he was a beacon of happiness when he wanted to be.

Despite how distracted she'd been by his expression, Marinette didn't jump when she felt a soft touch on her hand. Tentatively, as if testing the waters and seeing whether she'd pull away and distance herself from him, Adrien ran his fingertips across the her cold flesh, the warmth very much welcomed along with his action. As he linked his fingers through hers gently, allowing her to feel the barely there callouses upon the top of his palms, the heat that appeared upon her cheeks were reflected back in his, too. It was a sweet movement, and the reason for his sudden happiness became apparent.

Adrien didn't believe in soulmates—that was why he hadn't seen her within the mirror when she'd expected him to. He had never asked, never wondered about it while wandering around his room, so he had no reason to believe that it would actually exist (much less that Marinette would've been experiencing it for years). Perhaps, he had been waiting for the right moment to question her about her beliefs; waiting, smiling from a distance, to avoid setting himself up for failure if she rejected him in the end. He wasn't the type to string her along, making her believe his affections were more than simply friends, and she'd been too blinded to look at the larger picture. The covered mirror within her room proved that much, too. Her plan hadn't been to seduce him blindly when they'd met; rather, she had been determined to wait until he recognised her for what she was. Wanting for him to approach her, instead of plucking the courage to act first.

Squeezing his hand, Marinette's smile reached her eyes.

Their moment—if it could have been classed as one—was ruined when there was a sudden movement behind her. Adrien had been visibly taken aback, hand freezing within hers, and his viridian eyes had widened considerably before he tugged her along to their front door by their joined hands. There had been a flash of black on the other side of the glass, a blur in the distance by the time she had located it, and soon after a burnt umber-coloured cat tumbled after it with much the same speed (clumsily, though). Marinette gasped as she recognised the figures, realising that Plagg and Tikki had managed to make it outside the one time that he'd finally relinquished control of the café over to her.

Tikki hadn't had the microchip placed in her yet, nor did she have any form of identification. If they couldn't find the clumsy kitten, the most they had was ridiculous photographs of her with Plagg, or upon Marinette's or Adrien's lap.

The tug on her hand caught her attention once more. She barely had time to grab her umbrella from the plastic bin before they were through the front door, scanning the damp street for any indication of where they had wandered off to.

"I'll go left," Adrien announced, locking the door behind them. "Call me if you find them at all, okay? Nino's out of town so I can't call him for help." Alya was with him, so the amount of willing friends that would search through the rain for cats had dwindled drastically.

The amount of breakouts had been at an all time low after Fang's escape the previous month. The long-haired feline had managed to find empty boxes in an alley nearby, and chosen to sleep within them until Marinette had been able to find him. They should've had a barrier, somehow, within the café to stop them from freely trotting through the front door, but it would've been gaudy and in the way. The system of shutting the door immediately after someone had used it was the best that they had, and Adrien insisted on doing a furry headcount each evening, just to make sure.

Her grip on her umbrella tightened as she looked through the third alley. There had been no sighting of the cats thus far. The rain had been light and spitting when they'd exited, an ominous atmosphere for their search mission, and by that point in time the raindrops were pelting down and sounding loudly against the material of her umbrella. Marinette ran her hand through her bangs, sighing. Where would a cat disappear to in the rain? There had been no communication with Adrien, so she assumed that he was in much the same predicament as her. Shivering, she plodded through the falling water to peer down the next alley, checking beneath the various cars, in the bins, and in any spare boxes that were still there (despite being soaking wet). By the time that night had fallen, she was making noises of frustration with shoes thoroughly wet and socks squelching uncomfortably as she moved, and the cold air wasn't helping the situation too much. Having narrowly avoided being splashed by passing vehicles, Marinette stuck as far away from the roads as possible.

A blur of gold and monotone-coloured clothing caught her attention down the street. She blinked, clutching the umbrella tighter, and started towards him. He was peering behind every object, a worried expression upon his face. The clothes he was wearing were thoroughly soaked, sticking to him like a creased second skin, and rain was trickling from his hair, obstructing his vision every few moments from the amount he was blinking. She trotted over quietly—as quiet as one could be in the deafening, pouring rain—and held the spotted umbrella above him, though the height difference made it so she was pointing to the pouring sky.

With droplets of water falling from his chin, golden-coloured hair plastered to his face and messily pushed aside from his shaking hands, even then he caused a spiral of warmth to become apparent within her. It wasn't the time to feel the warm affection for him; they were searching for two drenched cats that had disappeared into the distance, but as she looked down and saw his sock-clad feet upon the pavement, she sighed.

He was too caring. Adrien had been too worried about the felines that had disappeared and hadn't stalled to put on any shoes, or grab an umbrella from inside first. He was solely focused on his impromptu mission, and his disregard for anything else was quite endearing.

"You're going to catch a cold," she murmured.

Shaking his head, Adrien replied, "I'd rather that than not find them again." Only Plagg had a microchip in him—Tikki was undersized and the veterinarian had advised to wait a few more months until she could have hers, too. "I'm guessing you didn't find them."

"No." Her voice was soft, and shivers coursed through her body afterwards from the cold weather. "Have you seen them at all?"

Standing upright, the blond stretched his arms in front of him, droplets falling from his clothing from the movement. "Not a glimpse," he grouched, pushing the rest of the wet strands away from his face. "I..." He cleared his throat. "We should split up again."

She shook her head in denial. "No, they're probably hiding somewhere from the rain. It wasn't pouring when they left." Even though she wasn't actually sure when they had, just that they'd caught a glimpse of the duo escaping into the distance after Adrien had trotted downstairs. "We'll call them when it's calmed down, okay?"

When he'd been about to open his mouth to answer, Marinette latched her hand onto his cold wrist, tugging him along and not taking no for answer. He had never been awfully sick since the time she'd been working there (only a few sniffles here and there, and sometimes a cough that never developed any further). She wasn't risking having him catch a terrible cold from his foolhardy rescue attempt. She swiftly unlocked the door, umbrella messily falling into the assigned plastic bin, before she ran through the café in search of the first piece of fabric that could act as a towel. He was dragged along with her movements, damp soaks creating squeaking noise across the wood flooring, and didn't utter a word as she whirled around with a towel in hand (which was usually used to clear up spilled beverages).

She dried his hair first, running the material over his golden tresses enthusiastically, attempting to rid him of the droplets that were falling down to the floor at a steady pace. Although he made no move to help her as she dried him, rubbing the towel along the nape of his neck to catch the running water, he wasn't making any protests either. When she looked up from her ministrations and saw the soft smile across his lips, she promptly threw the towel into his face.

Despite the sudden surprise, Adrien laughed and caught the material before it could hit him. His reflexes were good when they're weren't needed—it would've been much better if he would've stopped ruining their supplies with his sleepiness. He took over the job of drying, patting the towel across his drenched clothing and not making much progress. With a roll of her eyes, Marinette captured another towel and cleaned the floor. Adrien had disappeared upstairs for a change of clothing when she was done, leaving wet footprints to track him, so she settled herself upon the floor and removed her damp shoes and socks, cursing the weather under her breath.

"You're cute," Adrien remarked, announcing his presence with a compliment.

With a wet sock pinched between her thumb and index finger, Marinette raised her eyebrows at him. "What do you want now?"

"To thank you, again," he announced, barely there dimples showing as he flashed a sincere smile. "I would've still been out there if it wasn't for you."

Marinette stood up, grumbling under her breath, "If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't have gotten out."

"It was bound to happen sometime soon," he pointed out, no irritation leaking into his voice. "It's just unfortunate, but they'll be back. I doubt anyone else would let Plagg sleep in their hair." From what she could remember, he never explicitly allowed him (he had a bed intended for the feline beside his own, just to attempt to coax him away from his locks). Rolling her eyes, Marinette shoved her wet belongings beside the plastic bin for umbrellas, shivering, still. Catching the shudder that soared through her, Adrien pointed to the ceiling and asked, "Do you want to have some coffee upstairs? I'm sure it'll warm you up."

Well, she couldn't say no. Although she had ventured to his apartment more than a few times since the first, it had never been late in the evening again. Marinette had left as the blond began to make dinner each time, opting out of dining with him when it was offered, and merely went up there to visit the mysterious felines that much preferred the second-story of the building. But that was before she'd had the revelation that she was an utter fool, so, with new resolve, the dark-haired female ascended the stairs with the intention to stay into the late hours of the evening if it was offered. The cardboard box Plagg liked to sleep in was still within the living room, and a lamp had been left on from earlier. Adrien waltzed through to the kitchen, asking how she'd like her beverage while searching through his cupboards for appropriate mugs. Nino's bright idea for a present was the one he usually used, simply because it had a cartoon cat painted upon it with explicit text below that had made him laugh.

She could see the rain from the window, still. The glass was splattered with water, obscuring the view, and making her shiver just from staring at the panes. Rubbing her elbows for warmth, Marinette graciously accepted mug, not commenting on the fact that it had another cat upon it. All the mugs that she had seen from his apartment were somehow related to that, and as endearing as it was, she honestly thought that the obsession was beginning to get out of hand (well, before the cat café it would've been seen as worse).

"So, small talk," Adrien began, perched on the couch beside her.

She snorted. The new attire looked a lot warmer for him; the dark-coloured t-shirt, jeans that did wonders for his legs and had been in his wardrobe for a few years, and the flannel chequered shirt that had been left open, unbuttoned. He grinned at response, attempting to sip from his obscene mug and pulling a face soon after from burning his tongue from the idiotic action.

"I'm confiscating this," Marinette announced, stealing the mug from his cold hands and placing it upon the coffee table. "You're probably going to have a cold after this, so if you have a burnt tongue, too, I'll never hear the end of it."

He had the gall to look offended.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, she retorted, "You know it's true."

"Goodness, woman," Adrien said, sounding positively breathless as he raised his eyebrows. "I feel like I've acquired a mother instead of an employee."

"Fire me, then," she grouched, setting her mug down, too. Crossing her arms beneath her bosom, Marinette made a noise of disapproval. "And are you complaining, Mister Agreste?"

He winced, holding his dry hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Not that it's a bad thing," the blond back-pedalled, restrained laughter clear from his shaking voice, "I think it's quite cute, actually."

She narrowed her eyes playfully. "And that's the second time you've called me cute today—so, what do you want?"

"I said it's cute, not that you're cute."

Lips curling into a frown, she replied, "Way to kill a girl's ego."

Adrien grinned, showing his dimples as he responded, "It's in all the dating advice books for men—knock them down so you're the only option. Truly inspiring text, so I thought I'd attempt it once on you."

"Try again and I'll hit you for real," she retorted. "And I really can't tell if that was a lie or not."

He released a laugh that caused bumps to erupt upon her skin, a shiver running its course through her body. "I doubt it. The only dating advice I've seen is from comics and television shows, so they're not very reliable. If they were, you should've fallen for me by now."

Blinking, she replied in a soft tone, "And how do you know I haven't?" Pleading internally for her insecurities not to show on her face; wanting the self-consciousness to be smothered by her mildly embarrassed expression, yet she found herself shifting upon the sofa in a nervous movement. "I don't believe you've ever asked me."

Surprise flickered across his face, showing from the widening of his bright eyes framed by the thick eyelashes that were sometimes the talk of the café, and he spoke in such a tone that caused the bumps to erupt once again. "Well, this is a catastrophe, then."

The reaction she'd expected certainly hadn't been that. Releasing a sigh that was filled with fondness, Marinette ran a hand through her stray hairs, tucking them behind her ear. "That's probably the least enthusiastic cat pun you've ever uttered."

"I never claimed it was a pun," the blond retorted, narrowing his eyes playfully as his slid closer to her. Their fabric-clad thighs were brushing against each other lightly, and she leaned into his slight touch. "You're seeing things that aren't there, Marinette." The way he said her name was soft, a caress upon his tongue that was surely too sinful to be heard often.

She shivered.

"I think I've been around you for too long."

His lisp curled into a wolfish grin. "I disagree—I would've been much happier if you were in my life earlier."

So would she if he had appeared over five years earlier, back when she was the young girl that was astounded that there really was someone within the mirror. The studious girl that had long hair, grades that reflected her happiness rather than anything else, and the one that had been solely driven by ambition. Despite the hurt from watching him through the years, she swallowed, ignoring the pang of pain and loneliness that resonated within her. The male before her with his golden-tinged eyelashes, and dimples that were showing from his sincerity combined with the lack of distance between them, caused her heart to flutter and pulse to become deafening from simply one sweet gesture.

"Oh?" she whispered, voice higher-pitched than before from shyness. "Looking at my pictures wasn't good enough for you?"

To her amusement, pink flooded the tops of his cheekbones, emphasising the brightness of his emerald eyes as he held his stare. His expression hadn't faltered, though; still the same mixture of sincerity and teasing. "They can't replace you," Adrien replied smoothly, raising his eyebrows. His hair was fluffier than usual from the towel, sticking up in various directions and looking unkempt (worse than when he woke up after a night with Plagg). "I don't think anything could, actually."

It was her turn to flush from that. She held her stare, refusing to look away and squirm from the compliments. "Okay, boss," Marinette started, leaning closer to bump her shoulder into his. "First the cute compliments, and now this—what do you want?"

His expression didn't falter. A hand, that was warmed from the inside of the apartment, was placed gently upon her fabric-clad thigh. Ignoring the movement, not looking down to confirm that it had happened, she didn't recoil in surprise from how close they were. Tilting her head up, eyes widened in surprise from the intention for their distance, she wetted her lips and allowed her eyes to flutter closed as his breath ghosted against her lips.

"A date with you," he murmured, a breath away from her.

Eyes snapping open, Marinette asked incredulously, "What?"

"Will you go on a date with me?" Adrien clarified—voice shaking from restrained laughter from her sheer surprise—while raising his eyebrows.

A noise escaped that was a mix of a sigh and sheer disbelief.

He did laugh at that. It was a breathy chuckle that caressed her lips that were hovering close to his. "Your silence wounds me, Marinette."

And there it was again—the soft whisper of her name that did wonders for her libido. Narrowing her eyes, Marinette glared at him for a good few moments before reaching forward, curling her hand into the material of his t-shirt while the other rested against his shoulder, and edged closer, connecting their lips and allowing the warmth to spread between them. The vibrations from his end were from the muffled laughter, shaking his frame and causing her to press harder, insistent she was pursuing this for a reason, and that he damn well needed to react correctly. And, thankfully, he did. The hand upon her thigh remained, a comforting presence, as the other curled into the hairs upon the nape of her neck, cradling her head into a reassuring position.

His responses were feather-light and tentative at first, as if asking whether she was absolutely sure with her decision, and in return Marinette moved her lips clumsily, almost catching his swollen lips and nipping him at times, as the erratic rhythm of her pulse deafened her. The warmth coiling within her lower regions continued to boil as their movements became for confident, leaning into each other for support as the sounds were their quick and panted breaths between kisses. His fingertips upon her neck caressed her skin and tresses of dark hair in a steady rhythm, that was quite admirable considering where his attention was directed—a moan was coaxed from her throat, muffled by his lips and swallowed whole as his tongue trailed languidly over her lower lip with clear intention.

Parting her swollen lips in response, a shiver ran through her body when his tentative movements were deeper, the gentle flicks of his tongue reminding her that it wasn't a daydream that she'd concocted. Greedily accepting the offered pleasure, a moan escaped and was muffled by their hushed breaths, blending into the steady noise they were making. The grip on his shirt grew tighter, her pulse becoming pronounce lower, and she shifted her lips, reluctantly searching for friction that wasn't there.

Their breathing was uneven as they pulled away. Her eyes fluttered upon to view his flushed face, the tips of his ears—peeking out from the golden strands of hair—were stained rose, and the curve of his smile was sinful paired along with the swollen lips that were plush, reddened, and calling all attention to them.

Fingers brushing her neck gently, teasingly, Adrien leaned forward once more to place a chaste kiss on her lips that would've been innocent in any other situation, before raising his eyebrows at her. "What do you say, Marinette?" His voice was husky and breathy, causing her erratic beat of her pulse to react in turn.

She gulped.

"I—" There wasn't any sounds other than her panted breaths any longer. "I think the rain has stopped."

The fingertips upon her skin stilled. The blond glanced to the window, confirming that there wasn't any more raindrops trailing across the surface, before turning back to her with a determined expression.

"I'll be right back," Adrien said, kissing her lips softly once more before disappearing from the apartment.

She licked her lips, recalling the conversation during the time he was missing, making sure not to misunderstand any of the uttered words. When he returned with two perfectly dry felines in his arms and a disgruntled expression, she'd laughed heartily (especially when they leapt from his arms and ran straight for her).

-x-

Their first date had to be postponed, solely because he insisted that she needed to be treated right, and being tired from a day of work wasn't what he was looking for. So, with chaste kisses in the early morning hours and after work before she disappeared home, Marinette powered through the days filled with the stolen looks in his direction while waiting for him patiently. For weeks in a row he had attempted to close the café for a day on the weekend, but had to cancel his plans when news of popular critics or bloggers were going to visit on that day. So, when he'd finally thrown his hands in the air and announced fate was against them, that was when he gave in to her requests of a simple evening together after customers had gone and the front door was locked.

At first he'd attempted to lock the two felines that lived within his apartment within his bedroom, but that hadn't turned out well (the constant high-pitched noises that came from the other side of the door was proof of that). And when he tried to make them disappear down the stairs, it had ended up with them running away from him and hiding behind various objects. Marinette had laughed heartily for a good half an hour at his attempts, even adding cheering commentary which caused him to narrow his eyes in her direction briefly.

With Tikki on her lap and an empty plate in front of her—as Adrien's table had fallen apart, therefore he hadn't bothered to get it replaced, nor were there chairs to perch upon apart from the sofa in the living room—Marinette smiled as she watched the two beside her interact. Adrien was holding his plate high out of Plagg's reach, while the dark-haired feline was attempting to climb onto his shoulder to reach the food, while making soft pleading noises.

Adrien was far too kind, and to know that the kindness was directed to her because he felt some sort of affection caused her heart to swell and cheeks to grow hot. It was the most flattering compliment that had ever been for her, albeit silent.

He tidied the dishes away for a later time, settling down to sit beside her and their partially unwanted companions. Petting the pest upon his lap and rolling his eyes at the tell-tale purr that sounded, Adrien shrugged his shoulders when they made eye contact, gesture clearly conveying that he'd given up on trying to be alone.

She grinned. "I expected this, by the way."

"...If I said you're using me for the cats, would you hit me?"

"Most definitely." She sniffed indignantly. "Besides, why wouldn't I? They don't stalk me, unlike you. They're lovely companions because of that."

The jab caused him to still, fingers no longer brushing against Plagg's fur, and jut his lower lip out dramatically. "I told you it wasn't like that."

"Actually," Marinette started, raising her eyebrows with confidence, "you never really explained yourself much—just because you've seen pictures of me doesn't make it a good decision to not look for different employees."

"What more could I say?" Adrien shrugged, glancing down at the feline to avoid her gaze. "When your crush asks to work for you, you kind of just go along with it without asking a lot of questions."

She blinked. And blinked again, absolutely positive that her surprise was showing clearly on her expression. Her mouth opened to reply, but she snapped it closed after a few moments as her cheeks coloured considerably from his words. Although he was adamantly looking at Plagg, she could see the light dusting of rose across his cheekbones—surely the tips of his ears, if they were visible, too—and she felt glee from seeing how embarrassed he was from admitting such a naïve feeling of affection. She was in much the same predicament, wasn't she? To have not heard his voice, only seen his face and activities, without knowing his personality for herself, and yet still felt adoration for him.

Without prompting him for more information, Adrien blurted, "I'm not with you for your looks, really!"

That should've been something she said. She snorted, covering her mouth to muffle the building laughter from his panicked expression. He shot a sheepish look in her direction before glancing down at the dark-coloured feline, once again.

"I'll try and explain myself, so please refrain from hitting me or running away. I'd really appreciate it." Marinette nodded, gesturing with a free hand for him to continue in a supportive gesture. "You know I used to live abroad, right? I'm sure I've mentioned it before without talking too much about my family." All she knew about them was that his mother was dead, from hints within their conversations and the peeping she'd done throughout the years. And yet, she had never seen a picture of either of them within his room, neither in the apartment. "My... father's very big in the fashion industry abroad, so I modelled since I was a child."

Suddenly holding both her hands up in a gesture to stop, Marinette stared at him incredulously, not at all feeling guilty as he shifted self-consciously. "Wait a bloody moment—are you trying to tell me you were a model? You?"

"I don't know whether to be offended by that or not," he quipped.

He had the looks for the job, certainly, but perhaps not the personality; Adrien was a full of energy, bouncing around the café like a happy child whenever customers were near, and imagining him walking straight-faced down a runway or attempting to hold a certain pose without cracking a bad joke or smiling at one of the crew members had her furrowing her eyebrows. It was possible, yes, but she much preferred the unrestrained version that was sitting before her.

"Why did you stop, then?" she asked softly.

Running a hand through his loose hair, he said simply, "I didn't enjoy it. My father thought I was the perfect fit for it, so I did it. I guess I wanted to please him, but that changed over the years—some fans were obsessive, actually, and it was quite overwhelming at times."

"Okay," she agreed, nodding her head, admitting that the story was making sense so far, "but that doesn't explain how that relates to you having a crush on me."

Playfully knocking her shoulder with his, Adrien reprimanded, "If you'd wait a few minutes, you'd find out, you impatient girl."

She laughed.

"As I was saying," the blond started after clearing his throat, "I never quite understood how fans could say they were infatuated with me after only looking at pictures. So, when it happened to me, it was a bit weird."

Well, he was rather easy on the eyes. It was understandable that impressionable teenage girls would place their affections upon his attractive face—if the photographs were anything like the face she saw on a daily basis, then he would've been successful. It explained the expensive clothing that was usually stripped and thrown off as quickly as possible when they were younger, along with the few pieces that had stayed within his wardrobe. He certainly had a sense of style—there were no t-shirts with strange cats upon them, thankfully—and it had probably been instilled into him from his early years. Marinette raised her eyebrows, prompting him to continue despite her warmed cheeks at the confession.

"Right, well," he said, a hand snaking up to touch his neck self-consciously (the gesture was so endearing, and she bit her lower lip at it). "You were really pretty, I—not that you aren't now. You're even bet—I, fuck. T-this isn't going out right at all."

The laughter couldn't be restrained any more. Marinette let out hearty chortles, feeling the vibrations through her body and causing Tikki to jump off her lap and run away, and kept laughing until her face was red from that, not from her blush any longer. With Adrien soon joining in, meaning Plagg went off into the distance with Tikki, too, she wondered whether he'd noticed that her guffaws had become slightly maniacal. Wiping at her wet eyes, Marinette met his gaze and grinned, relieved that he was smiling right back.

"You have a way with words," she teased.

Shrugging his shoulders, Adrien replied softly, "I'm trying to say that I had a crush on you, yes, but if I only liked you for your looks, I would've asked you on a date when we first met, right?"

A smirk curled at the corners of her lips. "Is that you awkwardly confessing your love for me?"

"Pretty much," he agreed shakily. "I haven't really done this before."

Well, neither had she. Marinette grinned at his confession, happiness reflected within her wide eyes and the smile that reached them, and reached down tentatively to take his hand in hers. She linked their fingers together, revelling in the warmth of his flesh and the softness of his skin, and squeezed in a comforting gesture. What was she to say, though? The mirror legend was an utter myth, and she had yet to read—or see—any evidence that anyone else had experienced it with confirmation other than herself. Admitting to seeing him within her mirror would've been admitting to viewing hallucinations, or simply being delusional, so she opted to keep it quiet.

"I don't know what to say," she said, a teasing quality to her voice, "I've heard it's bad etiquette to confess your love on the first date. My, you need some lessons, Adrien."

Childishly, he stuck his tongue out briefly.

"I think I might just love you, too," Marinette continued, grinning widely. "Perhaps I need lessons as well."

The kiss to quieten her teasing wasn't chaste.

-x-

It was five years, eight months, and twenty-one days when Adrien asked her to be his girlfriend—ten days since he'd confessed his love in the most awkward way, and one month and eleven days since their first kiss. She'd laughed, positively delighted, and asked what had taken him so long to muster the courage to simply ask the question. In return, she found out through the blond that Nino was planning to propose to Alya, therefore he would need a date to their engagement party (naturally, the red-head wouldn't say no as they were sappy when they were together). And he was proven right when Alya had called her up later that evening and straight up announced that she was getting married, not bothering to go through the details of how it had happened.

Adrien had picked her up from her apartment, marvelled over her elegant dress, especially when she announced that she'd made it herself, and whispered sweet words in the back of the taxi while placing teasing kisses along her exposed neckline. She had pushed him away laughing, claiming that such behaviour could be fully explored when they were alone after the party.

The party had various guests that Marinette had never fully bonded with, and it was utterly adorable to see how many recognised Adrien from the café, never quite realising that he was best friends with Nino. There were enthusiastic introductions all around, and when the four of them were the only ones remaining while sipping cheap wine from their glasses, Marinette had choked when Alya informed them that she and Nino were already married. It turned out that when he had proposed, they'd registered their marriage after agreeing that a large wedding wasn't within their desires. They hadn't informed their parents yet—or anyone apart from her and Adrien, who was gaping with surprise written across his face—so, they asked the two of them to keep it quiet for the time being.

When they were alone, Marinette spent her first night in his bed. It wasn't the passion-filled affair that she'd imagined from the added feline company, and the heavy petting certainly wasn't on each other's bodies. There were creases from the pillows upon his cheeks when they woke up, and two cats firmly in between them on the mattress, making it so there hadn't been any sort of cuddling during the night. It was as though the duo wanted all of the affection directed at them, and as endearing as it would've been in any other situation, Marinette shook her head in frustration.

"You should stay at mine next time," she said.

And he did. Her tiny apartment was a short walk away, so after they'd closed up the café, Adrien had walked through the streets while holding her hand with a goofy smile. Although her apartment was smaller than his, only by a small margin, and filled with various fabrics that were stuffed within any drawer within sight, he adored it all the same. Adrien had remarked that their nights were wonderful when they weren't disturbed by the dastardly duo of cats, and she'd heartily agreed. He never questioned the fabric-covered mirror in her bedroom, nor did he attempt to remove the cloth at any point. Perhaps he was being kind and not mentioning from their talks on the legend before.

She didn't need the mirror to see him in the late hours of the evenings any longer. Although they agreed to have a few nights apart so they weren't attached any more than they already were, they exchanged cell phone messages and sometimes calls, too, when they were apart.

Their exploration of each other hadn't been fully completed as they were taking their sweet time when they were alone at Marinette's apartment two nights a week, but that was completely fine with her. Whenever they pushed further, the sheer happiness within Adrien's expression and the grin afterwards was more than worth it. She felt absolutely treasured, especially when he blinked in awe every time her shirt fell to the ground.

She thought she couldn't have been happier with their relationship.

Then, after being woken up from a pleasant dream to the sound of her cell phone ringing, she answered with a sleepy, "Adrien?"

"I—hi."

She blinked. Rubbing her eyes, she noted that he sounded awake, alarmingly so. Pulling her cell phone back and staring at the illuminated screen to stare at the night, she saw that it was well past midnight. He should've been asleep as the day started for him in a mere few hours.

"Everything okay?" she slurred, sleepiness seeping into her tone. "Unless this is an emergency, I'm going to hit you tomorrow."

Normally, he would've asked her to hit on him instead (or something similar). And yet, silence greeted her. Marinette laid back down, pulling the duvet over her cold body while waiting for him to reply. It took a few moments to make out that the sound she was hearing was his breathing—no cat noises, and no uttered words of the reason why he'd called so late at night. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, unsure of what to make of the call. The very idea that it was a strange dream was thrown out when she shivered from her exposed feet sticking out from the duvet. Curling into a ball for warmth, cradling the phone against her exposed ear, she waited.

"What floor do you have in your room?"

Maybe it was a dream. "A cheap carpet that's green. Certainly not as nice as your eyes."

"Right, I—" Adrien cut himself off to clear his throat. "Sleep well, Marinette."

And with that, she discarded her cell phone and went back to sleep without wondering about the odd question. She didn't recall the strange conversation for quite some time as the blond-haired male wasn't acting any different in her presence; when they were alone, he'd peck her lips before getting back to work, and when he stayed the night at hers the following week, she'd suddenly recalled it after she returned to the bedroom after brushing her teeth.

Adrien was perched upon her bed, the monotone pyjama pants that were littered with paw prints on without the overly large white t-shirt, showing his attractive body that she had become happily familiar with over time. The light dusting of golden hair below his navel shined in the soft light, and she grinned and made her way to stand in front of him.

He hadn't noticed that she'd entered, though. Instead, his emerald eyes were focused on the covered full-length mirror, expression unreadable, and she stilled centimetres away when she realised what he was staring at.

The material didn't cover the whole mirror. There was a section at the bottom visible, surely showing the flooring and nothing else in view.

That—that meant—

Marinette gulped.

"Adrien?" she called softly.

He blinked. When he turned to face her, a large smile was upon his face and there was no sign of the neutral expression that had been there previously. "Hey there," he greeted, opening his arms in a familiar gesture. "I thought you'd be gone forever."

Rolling her eyes, Marinette sat upon his lap, legs placed on either side of his thighs, and butted their foreheads together in a reprimanding fashion. "I don't complain about your long showers."

He bumped their noses together briefly. "You don't appreciate the warm water enough."

"What were you deep in thought about?" Marinette questioned quietly, gnawing at her lower lip afterwards. If she had been concerned about admitting seeing him in her mirror, then he was surely just as freaked out after it had suddenly happened. Surely, it wasn't a coincidence that he'd called on one of the nights they were apart and the cloth happened to show the right amount of her room to match their conversation. It would've been a cruel twist of fate if he had only been plagued by the sudden compulsion to know about her carpet.

"Oh," Adrien replied dumbly, not elaborating further for some moments. "Just this and that."

If he would've divulge the information so soon, she planned to attempt to coax it from him. "Are wondering about my carpet again? I'd advise you from trying to get it for yourself. It's honestly quite ticklish at times, especially on bare skin."

Despite the reminder of the strange question, Adrien laughed. "I've suddenly found myself very interested in it, that's all."

"I'm sure," she said dryly.

"Interior design is my passion," Adrien deadpanned.

She snorted.

After a night of heated kisses, stolen pecks and glances during their working hours, Marinette returned to her apartment and headed straight to the mirror in her room. The cloth was promptly removed and shoved aside, and she wasn't shocked to see his bedroom within it any longer. It wasn't as though it would've suddenly fixed from being covered for a elongated period of time. Busying herself with stitching her newest designs for her boutique, Marinette peeked at the mirror every few minutes without being too obvious about it. If she were to stare blatantly and then have Adrien see her, she was sure that he would've had a dramatic reaction that surely wasn't needed; then again, when she'd first glimpsed him—while indecent at that—she'd cried out in a mix of shock and embarrassment, and that been one-sided.

The first glimpse of movement was Plagg and Tikki playing underneath the bed. They ran around for about half an hour before tiring, curling up together upon Adrien's pillow, leaving no room for him to sleep.

The corner of her lips curled into a sly smirk when she thought about how to shock him the most. Simply sat upon a chair at her desk, sewing a piece of bright-coloured fabric slowly, wasn't going to quite cut it. When she had first seen him, she thought she'd combust from witnessing the intimate scene. Even if she'd touched those parts of him herself by that point, she wasn't quite shameless enough to mirror the scene in her own way. So, trying not to cackle aloud a maniacal sound, Marinette tossed her soft shirt onto the bed and stayed clad snugly within her high-waisted denim shorts. The shirt had been a gag gift from Alya, once again, meaning it was covered in cartoon-styled cats in a slightly more sophisticated design that usual (a collar, for once). Her brassiere was pale lime-coloured with delicate lace around the cups, and she was glad that she'd thrown out the ratty ones before they'd become intimate.

With her cell phone placed on the desk beside her, attention focused solely on stitching and acting as though it was perfectly normal to be shirtless in her free time, Marinette resisted the urge to glance at the mirror—if she'd accidentally met his eyes and reacted, then there would've been no fun in teasing him. She'd almost completed her work when her cell phone began to rattle, the noise filling the empty space of the previously silent room, and she counted for a few moments before answering. The clothing she'd been altering was shoved onto the desk without a glance, and she purposely stretched and leaned back against her chair when she'd confirmed the caller and leaned back against the chair.

The mirror was in the same place as always; meaning, he could see her side and front, and she'd have a clear view of him, too, if she turned her head slightly.

She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Marinette?" His voice was breathy, full of surprise, and it almost made her choke down her laughter.

Stretching an arm over her head, Marinette replied, "Yes? I thought I was going to have peace and quiet tonight, for once."

"I—" Adrien cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

What was she doing, indeed? "I was just finishing some orders for my site," she answered honestly, tone completely full of innocence. "Do you need me for something?"

"Do I need a reason for wanting to hear your voice?"

And there it was. His uncanny ability to smoothly flirt without stumbling over his words at the most unexpected times. Sometimes, when they were curled within a duvet with their clothes scattered across the floor, he managed to utter the most ridiculous lines that caused her to groan rather than blush. Yet, when they were in an innocent setting or on the phone, he was more prone to succeeding in his original goal.

The smirk came back across her lips. Marinette made a drawn out humming noise, indicating that she was thinking of her answer, and twirled her chair around slowly to perch her legs upon the edge of the bed (one of the perks of having a tiny room, if one looked on the bright side of life). "I think you might be a tad clingy, Mister Agreste," she murmured, reaching down to remove her socks one by one. "What ever shall I do with you?"

She heard him gulp.

It was becoming hard to resist peeking at the mirror, just to see whether he was blatantly staring at her. "Are you still there?" she found herself saying instead.

"I—yes," he breathed out.

She undid the button of her shorts.

"You're very eloquent today," Marinette remarked, smugness leaking into her tone. "Did you hit your head?"

Surely, his face had the usual pleasantly surprised expression that appeared whenever she started to undress in front of him. Even when he was the one to remove her clothing, the awed expression became known and it was so utterly adorable that she couldn't help leaning forward to show her appreciation through a kiss each time.

"What are you doing?" Adrien asked breathlessly, repeating his previous question.

She tried not to laugh, really, but her frame shook from the contained chortles. Marinette grinned openly, knowing he could see her reaction, before standing up and working on the zip of her shorts. "Getting ready for bed now. You called pretty late tonight." And with that, she shimmied out of her remaining piece of clothing and perched herself upon the edge of the bed, one leg over the other as she leaned back on one arm. "Is this my bed time call?"

He made a strangled noise that caused her laughter to finally be released. Falling back against the mattress, legs propped up, Marinette laughed madly, knowing that the uncovered mirror had surely given him a fright, but her actions probably had, too. The call continued, and although they didn't speak for a good few minutes, there were noises on the blond's end which meant that he was doing something.

"Adrien?" Marinette questioned after she'd calmed down. "What are you doing?"

His panted breaths were her only reply. The dark-haired female sat up quickly, head whipping around to stare at the mirror to see what he was up to, only to see the view was empty of who she was looking for. She padded across the floor, already knowing that it wouldn't change the angle of the view, peering side-to-side to attempt to catch a glimpse of him.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He didn't verbally reply. There were countless noises, some that she could make out as a horn blaring briefly, before it was filled again with his heavy breathing. Marinette knitted her eyebrows together in confusion, staring into the full-length mirror despite the emptiness within the pane. Suddenly, there was a noise across the apartment that was muffled, but the sound came through the cell phone, too, which made her jumping in surprise.

When she'd made it to her front door, he demanded through panted breaths, "Let me in."

He'd ran the whole way there, that was obvious. With cheeks flushed that were stained red, hair askew and sticking in every direction from running his hands through it, and crumpled clothing that was sticking to his skin from perspiration, Marinette simply stared, astounded that this was his reaction to it—yes, she had teased him, but perhaps a small breakdown had been what she'd expected. He was still holding his cell phone to his ear, and her hand fell to her side, barely holding onto her device.

"Marinette," he murmured, arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her against his warm chest. Whispering her name huskily like a prayer under his breath, she manoeuvred them instead and closed the door with a naked foot, a shiver running through her body from the cold air that had gained entrance to her apartment. Soft kisses her peppered across her neck, reaching her jawline by the time a coil of warmth had made its presence known in her abdomen.

She gulped.

"I'm so sorry," Adrien said gently between kisses, lips trailing teasingly across her chin before he pulled back to look into her eyes with an expression that caught her off guard—guilt. He felt guilty, and that thought had her dumbfounded expression clear to see. It wasn't as though he could've controlled it, and why would he apologise? She had been expecting a panicked expression, not for such rational thinking and then taking the blame for it. "I—I should've listened—"

Gripping the front of his shirt, Marinette interrupted with, "Stop."

They were still against each other's chests, sharing warmth that was wonderful and very much needed as she hadn't dressed during the downtime for their conversation, and he pulled back slightly so she could look up and meet his guilt-ridden expression easily. Marinette raised a hand slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wanted to, and cupped his cheek, fingers caressing the skin as she smiled softly.

"I don't want an apology," she said softly. "Have you read any evidence, anywhere, that the legend's true? I haven't. I searched for years, actually, and I've never found anyone that could clarify the details and have them match up to mine."

"How long?" he croaked, his soft fingers winding through the tresses of hair at the nape of her neck.

Her smile was bittersweet. "If it hasn't passed midnight already, then it's been five years, eleven months and seven days since I first saw you."

"I—"

Shaking her head, Marinette cut him off with a look. She leaned forward, pecking his lips in a reassuring movement, before pulling back to flash a sincere smile. "Want to hear about my story first? It's not a very wild one, but I'm sure you'll laugh at a few things."

And so, after a nod, Marinette had tugged him by the hand through her apartment and settled them both down upon her bed. Despite being clad in her undergarments, Adrien's eyes didn't stray from her face; his attention was solely on their conversation, and that had her heart pounding within her chest. She explained that she'd been a simple student, laughing cynically to herself within her room while thinking that soul-mates didn't exist, then she'd almost fallen out of her seat when the mirror had distorted to show his image. He had the decency to blush from having the first image of him being when he was masturbating, and he touched his neck self-consciously when she assured him that she looked away whenever he was busy with certain activities. Throughout the tale, the blond kept insisting he apologised by muttering them underneath his breath, and she interrupted them all with chaste kisses and a sharp look to let her continue her story.

He'd hugged her tightly, arms squeezing and holding her close, when she mentioned that she thought that he'd see her in the mirror after their first kiss.

"When did you first see me?" Marinette questioned, gesturing to her mirror across the room.

The fact that no one apart from him could see her room in his mirror reassured him, especially after Marinette mentioned how many had gazed and used her own successfully through the years.

Holding her hand, he squeezed and flashed a smile that showed his slight dimples. "Before I made that ridiculous phone call—interior design is certainly not an interest of mine, if you couldn't tell." At her muffled snort, Adrien rolled his eyes. "I—I was just thinking about you." A rose-coloured blush blossomed along his cheekbones, and she bit into her lower lip to keep from cooing at how adorable he was being. "I know we haven't been dating long, but I-I was just considering our future."

She blinked.

"Either you're planning to break up with me in a really strange way," Marinette started, raising her eyebrows, "or this is an awkward proposal that rivals your love confession." The first option was definitely out; if he hadn't been thinking about soul-mates at all, then he wouldn't have seen her in the mirror.

He huffed, shooting her an unimpressed look. "I haven't exactly got the ring in my pocket."

"...You're not kidding," Marinette noted, surprise flickering across her expression.

There was no sign that he was joking. Adrien's lips curled into a wolfish grin, openly revelling from her utter shock at the off-handed comment. "As I was saying before some rude girl interrupted me—" Adrien paused abruptly as she whacked his arm, narrowing her eyes at him. "A rude, violent girl, at that—I was thinking how you'd be the purr-fect wife, and then I could see your carpet."

Her expression was torn between adoration and exasperation. Marinette let out a sigh, running a hand through her loose hair as he positively vibrated with muffled laughter from her reaction. "Is this your proposal now? Really? Cat pun and all?"

"Oh, Marinette," Adrien said smugly, "I haven't asked the question yet."

Yet.

She wetted her lips.

"If you really propose with anything to do with cats, I will hit you, I promise," Marinette vowed.

He had the gall to look affronted.

And she added in before he could reply, "We haven't even had sex yet—wait. Are you religious or saving yourself for your wedding night? It would've been nice to know beforehand, if that's the case." And although her words were joking, knowing that he had even been considering marriage was such an utter compliment and caused her stomach to churn in a mixture of discomfort and sheer giddiness. That was why he'd seen through her mirror, wasn't it? "You—"

Then, had she been dreaming about him? Marinette had been fast asleep when it had happened, so it was highly possible—it had to be reciprocated, after all.

Marinette cut off her internal monologue to gasp, a hand moving to cover her mouth as she stared at him with wide eyes. His expression turned bemused, unsure of her change of reaction, especially as he hadn't had the chance to answer yet.

"You were thinking about m-me! That's why I fucking saw you!" she shrieked, hitting him on the shoulder once again. "Y-you—fuck."

Merely raising his eyebrows at her trail of thought, Adrien pointed out, "It wasn't a platonic crush, Marinette. I was a healthy teenage boy."

"Pervert," she muttered, crossing her arms beneath her brassiere-clad breasts.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, nice subject change there. No, Marinette, I'm not saving myself for marriage; I'm being a wonderful person and not jumping into things—or, well, your pants."

"Why, I'm honoured," the dark-haired female drawled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes right back. "So, me being terrible in bed is the breaking point of our relationship? It's possible that it's you who possesses an underwhelming performance."

"Let me get this straight," Adrien started, grasping both of her hands tightly between his. "You're sat here scantily clad while saying you expect me to be a disappointing partner in bed? Of all the things you've said, Marinette, I think this hurts my ego the most."

She wrinkled her nose, restraining the bubble of laughter that wanted to escape. "I've got to be honest with you."

"This is all after I said I wanted to marry you," he continued, shooting her an unimpressed look. Attempting to tug her hands back only resulted in him restraining them further, warm skin covering her own and pulling her closer so their thighs were touching upon the mattress (his fabric-clad ones and her bare). "I'm not so sure any more—it turns out that you were the stalker from watching me for five years." A grin appeared across his face, spreading wide and meeting his eyes as it showed the white of his teeth.

Huffing, Marinette insisted, "You saw me first. It only worked because you were thinking about me!"

He shook his head. "That's technical details. I never spied on you changing in your room—that was never included in the photographs that Nino showed me." They were small peeks that had built up over time (mostly when they were working together she would blatantly stare for more than a few seconds). Noticing her burning cheeks, Adrien leaned forward so their noses were lightly brushing against each other, the warmth of his breath hitting her lips. "You should be classed as the pervert because of that."

"You can't just call me a stalker and pervert without classing yourself as one, too," she murmured, narrowing her eyes at him. "That's awfully hypocritical, isn't it? Imagine, my poor younger-self—just innocently featured in pictures with Alya, and then you came along and decided to be a creep."

The grin across his lips only grew at the attempted insults. "If we're talking about details, then it appears that I liked you first."

"You liked how I looked!"

"Past tense?" Adrien queried, brushing his lips against hers softly before pulling back. "I still very much like what I see." And with that said, he glanced at her lack of clothing with a wolfish grin, finally taking the time to blatantly stare at her.

Tugging her hands free from his grip from him being distracted, Marinette placed her palm underneath his chin and raised it, making it so he had to look into her narrowed eyes. "You're lucky I love you," she announced, not resisting as his arms wrapped around her waist, "otherwise I would've kicked you out for such a weird comment."

Adrien blinked. "Does it need a cat pun?"

"You—"

She was interrupted by him continuing to say, "I thought being told you're beautiful is the—"

Marinette's hand fell from his chin, instead sneaking around the back to grasp the tresses of golden hair by the nape of his neck. "Be quiet," she murmured, leaning forward to connect their lips and cut off any attempt of continuing their silly conversation any longer. There was a muffled noise of amusement from him, but that was soon smothered as he responded to her actions heartily, returning the movements with enthusiasm. Their movements weren't as hopelessly clumsy as they had been at times at first, and she felt quite confident during, especially when a noise of approval and genuine pleasure escaped his throat occasionally.

So, with practised movements and noises of pleasure escaping them as she fell back against the mattress with the blond climbing gently on top in a familiar position, Marinette much expected the thundering pulse sounding within her head, along with the steady rhythm between her legs. Shifting her hips to search for friction, Adrien released a low moan as she brushed against him purposely. Their kiss was broken, and as they took in panted breaths that were irregular and matching their heartbeats, Marinette bit into her swollen lower lip as he began to remove his clothing. Slowly he removed his t-shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor, and caught her eye with a smug smile that made her roll her eyes quickly.

She pushed herself up from the mattress, hands caressing the smooth skin of his abdomen before trailing lower, teasing the flesh as she played with the buttons of his jeans, purposely taking her time. A shiver ran through her as he leaned down to place kisses across her neck, trailing down to her collarbone before biting at the skin teasingly. When she toyed with the zip, Adrien sucked upon her skin suddenly, surely causing a mark while coaxing a small moan of approval from his lips.

As her pale lime-coloured brassiere was discarded onto the floor, his clothing soon joined, too. Her underwear was tossed aside, much like his, and they fell back onto the various plush cushions upon her mattress. Marinette laughed as his nipped at her earlobe briefly, squirming from the ticklish sensation, and retaliating by scratching her nails along his side and smirking smugly from his abrupt chortles that were low and breathy.

He trailed kisses down from her earlobe, across the jawline before dipping down between her breasts, lips teasing the flesh around her without fully committing.

Winding her fingers into his hair, Marinette frowned pointedly when he looked up to flash a grin. With a chuckle, Adrien took the darkened flesh of her nipple into his mouth.

She wetted her lips.

The warmth that had been coiling with her abdomen spiralled, shooting lower while sending sensations of pleasure throughout her body. Her toes curled, an audible gasp escaping her lips, as Adrien bit the sensitive nub before soothing the flesh with light kisses.

After he paused with his teasing actions for a few moments filled with panted breaths, Marinette shoved at his shoulders, purposefully pushing him to the side onto his back, so she could climb upon his lap with a victorious grin. He made a noise which was a mixture of surprise and protest, but she hushed them with a fleeting kiss that soon turned into her biting the flesh near his jugular. She bit the skin teasingly, breathing in and noticing the tell-tale feeling of suction as she returned the earlier mark that he'd put on her. Adrien laughed at the action, squirming slightly from the feeling, and she grinned when she sat up.

His blond hair was mused, golden-tinted eyelashes creating shadows underneath his emerald eyes, and the flush upon his skin made him look absolutely divine, and just knowing that she was the one that had caused such a disturbance in his appearance caused her heart to warm. Marinette grinned toothily, and he returned it, bemused. He knew they were soulmates, and he didn't freak out hysterically or claim there was witchcraft involved—he had fucking apologised while hugging her tightly, and there was nothing more lovely than that.

Much like he had earlier, Marinette trailed teasing kisses down his torso at a slow pace. Shuffling down to place her weight upon his legs, her knees on either side of his body, she moved according to where her kisses were being peppered. She licked his navel to cause a squirm of protest, and laughed heartily at his disgruntled expression. Adrien narrowed his eyes at her, and she merely grinned and tried to appear as innocent as she could. After taking in his flushed cheeks once again, Marinette teased his skin with her blunt fingernails as she began her journey downwards. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking whether she wanted to commit as he always did when she moved to do such actions, and her answering smile met her bright eyes.

Well aware of her blushing face, thundering heartbeat and the needy pulse that was located between her warmed thighs, Marinette wrapped her hand softly around his member and squeezed appreciatively. Licking her lips briefly, she shuffled lower to tentatively lap at the flushed tip, revelling in the gasp that escaped his lip from the simple movement. Encouraged by his reaction, Marinette wrapped her lips around him, sucking lightly before creating slight friction by pulling back and releasing his member into the cool air. With her unsteady breaths fanning against his heated skin, the hushed moans escaping him from any actions she took, it felt like a position of power rather than being defenceless and at his mercy; rather, as she took his flesh in deeper and created suction, it was more likely that he would be at her beck and call if she wanted.

The noises of the room were his loud breaths, and the proof of her actions, and it all seemed to cause pleasure to spike through her body to right between her legs—her pulse demanded soothing, affection, and attention much like how he was receiving. Aware of the slight ache of her jaw, Marinette pulled her mouth back with an audible noise announcing that she'd retreated for the time being. Licking the tip once more, sneaking a peek to catch the blond's expression proved to be a choice that caused her breathing to stutter. With eyes scrunched shut, a flush across his cheekbones, and teeth snagged into his swollen lower lip, Adrien was as attractive as ever.

She gulped.

Wetting her lips again, she allowed him access into her mouth once more with confident movements; her tongue trailed teasingly against his skin, teeth brushing against once or twice and causing him to moan lowly. It was a process that produced the most delightful sounds from him, and when her jaw began to protest again, she was surprised by fingers winding into her hair softly and pulling her back. Placing a chaste kiss onto his member in a parting gesture, Marinette licked her lips when they made eye contact.

He was grinning widely.

Lowering herself onto his chest, she greedily accepted the heated kiss, tilting her neck and releasing a muffled groan as his tongue caressed hers. His nails marked his journey from her hair, down the dip of her back gently before reaching her backside and squeezing in appreciation. She laughed openly at that, but it was swallowed by their hushed breaths and intense kisses. He manoeuvred her onto the mattress beside him during the heated action, and when they broke apart with wet, swollen lips, she blinked in surprise before she flashed him an appreciative smile. The hand that had been caressing her backside grasped her flesh once more before trailing across her thigh, making teasing movements between her legs within touching the area that was craving attention. After seeing her narrowed eyes, the blond had laughed before pulling her head to lean against his neck.

"Can I talk yet?" asked Adrien, voice hushed and low.

Knowing her voice would be muffled by their position, she retorted, "No." She nipped the skin of his neck, grinning widely and making it known by him feeling the curve of her lips from the mixture of a breath of amusement and surprise that escaped him.

The fingertips that had been teasing, by making circles and patterns upon her heated skin without fully committing, soon trailed down and ran along her protrusion purposely slowly, and before long a single digit explored further, reaching within her with tentative movements and causing her to gasp into his neck, hands pawing at his naked chest for a sense of comfort. Her breaths grew louder with every passing moment, and with the half-hearted kisses and nibbles she applied to his skin, Marinette shifted her hips in hopes for better friction during. He was caressing her with loving movements—never too enthusiastic or fumbling—and she rolled her body to meet every curve of his fingers. Another had joined, and the slight stretching and the gentle build up meant her thundering pulse was crying loudly, whining for more—and as he brushed against a certain bundle of nerves, her nails dug into his skin and she pressed her face further into his neck, panting into the warm skin and revelling in their close proximity.

Her toes curled.

With his thumb wandering, searching through her folds purposefully for her protrusion, Marinette gasped loudly, interrupting herself with a sudden moan, when he applied gentle pressure to her flesh. The sensations were building up, coiling within her abdomen and lower, and she was teetering upon the edge of blissful pleasure, almost—

"Marinette," Adrien intoned softly.

She bit her lower lip.

With a shaking hand, she pushed at his shoulder to make her intentions clear. He understood the action, hand stilling from the pleasing movements, and he leaned back to reach her eyes.

Red-faced, golden-coloured hair in an utter mess, and an adorably perplexed expression made her all the more fond of him. Marinette grinned, flashing the brightest one she could muster despite her flaming face, along with the light sheen of perspirations from their actions, and leaned to kiss his lips quickly. He responded enthusiastically, withdrawing his hand and discreetly wiping upon the material of her sheet.

With a husky voice, she murmured, "Adrien."

And, miraculously, he understood what she was suggesting. He looked visibly confused for a moment before recognition dawned upon his face, and the suddenly surprised face he pulled was so utterly adorable that she hid her head within the flesh of his neck to attempt to muffle her laughter. He took no offence to her chortles, and after he grinned openly when she was visible again, he undid their tangled limbs and pawed at the floor in an attempt to reach his jeans.

She resisted the urge to push him over the edge, instead snagging her teeth into her lower lip.

Then came the tell-tale sound of foil crinkling, and her cheeks warmed and he cursed softly under his breath once or twice. Her cheeks were permanently reddened by that point, and knowing that his were, too, caused pride to swell within her chest. Knowing that she had been the cause of his mused hair, swollen lips, and the general reaction that his body was having made her feeling powerful.

There was no doubt reflected within her expression, nor his, and his dimples were fully on display from sheer happiness as she fell back onto the mattress, gulping audibly as they arranged their bodies so they could feel each other's flushed skin without awkward movement. His wrists would surely hurt at a later time, but as he clambered above her and stared directly into her eyes with a soft expression, she realised that there wouldn't be any regrets (other than his odd twinges of pain, perhaps).

A shift of their hips allowed for her to feel him pressed against her heated, aching flesh, and she wound her arms around his neck, fingertips brushing against his blond hair, in an encouraging gesture. She squeezed, surely gazing at him with such adoration that she used to restrain, and the answering grin caused her thundering pulse to demand more.

Her fingertips curled into his skin, making half-moon indents from the pressure, as he pushed gently against her entrance, the slick skin allowing access without further problems. Marinette gasped, holding onto him tightly as he edged in further, at a slow pace that was surely for her benefit, and when she squeezed her eyes shut as he was fully situated within her, she noticed the soft kisses that were being applied to her lips. She responded, noting that the twinge of pain had disappeared as the waiting time grew, and as time passed of him caring, waiting, and looking for a signal to continue, Marinette kissed him with such passion to silently convey how much his kindness meant to. With a shift of her hips, a gasp muffled into their interlocked lips, he understood.

Tentatively, Adrien withdrew before pushing slowly, hesitantly, and absolutely lovingly—as if to coax her to relax further, their lips broke apart as he began to place soft kisses along her jawline, shifting his hips gently and building up his movements while leaving room for there to be a chance to stop, if she wanted.

Marinette's grip on his shoulders tightened, a breathless moan escaping as his thrusts became more confident, and soon mumbled groans mixed with the syllables of his name were frequently leaving her swollen lips, as if she were chanting them under her breath. One of his hands held onto her hip, the warmth of his skin comforting. Attempting to raise her hips in time with his thrusts, Marinette inhaled sharply at the sudden jolt of pleasure, knowing fully that he'd understood her abrupt reaction.

There were nips applied to the area around her jugular, kisses scattered on her skin, and as pleasure coursed through her body along with the thundering pulse that simply couldn't be satisfied, the dark-haired female sucked in short, abrupt breaths at every chance.

The moans that were muffled by her neck were so ridiculously attractive that she found herself wanting to hear them more, and so she shifted her hips to meet his movements and revelled the the strangled gasps that escaped him.

She moaned his name, unashamed.

The roll of his hips were precise, the skin of his back was sure to be damaged from her nails, and the panted breaths between them were utterly blissful. With every movement, he would press against her protrusion and elicit sparks of pleasure that were welcomed warmly. And when he hit that bundle of nerves within her, she knew for sure he would smile smugly afterwards—but it was still wonderful.

As he blew upon the damp flesh of her neck, a shiver ran through her body.

The steady sound of their contact was arousing, and feeling his warm skin pressing against her as he delivered a particularly sharp thrust caused her to gasp aloud, a strangled moan escaping as his movements began to mirror the previous example. There were no more bites to her neck, as his attention was solely on bringing her pleasure—and that he did. With precise movements that had her spluttering unintelligible words underneath her breath, she became aware of the bubbling feelings within her.

They overflowed, and her grip tightened, legs buckling and muscles tensing from the pleasure coursing through her. Her body tightened around him, and perhaps that was what spurred him to continue, still. With her panting profusely, Adrien followed soon after, mutters of her name and words of love against her neck as he almost collapsed on top of her while shuddering. She held onto him, steadying his larger frame, and peppered kisses along his damp jawline with a wide smile.

When he'd regained his strength and lifted himself up at grin openly, Marinette narrowed her eyes.

"So," he began, eyes bright and grin widening, "I think I'll be considering marriage after that—won't you?"

She rolled her eyes, hitting his warm shoulder lightly.

His smile remained, dimples clearly showing. "Unless that was as terrible as you predicted," Adrien murmured, "aren't you going to con-cat-ulate me for my performance?"

Incredulous, Marinette spluttered, "Y-y—you're still inside me, you ass!"

With a suddenly sheepish expression, Adrien amended their positions. She winced as he withdrew, feeling the sudden tell-tale prickling of building soreness, and heartily pushed him when he was sat beside her. He fell upon the mattress, looking thoroughly surprised before laughing heartily at her pout.

He raised his eyebrows. "...I promise not to propose with a pun?"

Despite wanting to groan from it sounding like a question, Marinette ran a hand through her mused hair and laughed.