"Oh, uh, hi! Adrien! It! Marinette! …I'm calling because I—BWAAH—!" There were loud sounds of things crashing on Marinette's end that made Adrien hold his phone away from his ear for a while. He promptly returned it when he heard her give a really loud "OW!" followed by the sound of her phone bouncing on the ground.
"Are you alright, Marinette?"
There was a shuffle that sounded like her phone getting picked up. "Ohh, oww, oh my god, that's, owwww. Am I bleeding? I'm bleeding, oh god." Her voice sounded far away.
She was bleeding? What in the world happened?! Adrien looked at his phone in shock, feeling his soul leave him just a bit. Was his friend in danger? What was going on?!
He heard someone talk on the other line, so he placed the phone to his ear again. "—I-I think I stabbed myself, oww, oh god that hurts, call an ambulance—"
Adrien's brain short-circuited at that point.
Marinette stabbed herself.
Marinette was bleeding.
He listened in horror as her voice faded to silence on the other line.
Marinette was dying.
"I'm coming, Princess!" he yelled into the phone. He could get there faster than any ambulance. He could get her to a hospital before it was too late. Identity be damned, he was going to save Marinette!
He all but tossed his phone onto his bed and screamed, "Plagg, claws out!"
"Alya, let's not do this," Marinette moaned into her Chat Noir plushie as Alya held her phone hostage in her hands, "remember the last time I tried calling Adrien on his phone?"
"How can I forget the one time my best friend palmed her crush's phone?" Alya said with a smirk on her face.
"And yet here you are telling me to try again. What if it happens again?" Marinette stood up from her chaise and paced around, violently shaking the plushie in the air. "I can't keep stealing his phone and erasing embarrassing messages I accidentally leave there! I'll get caught! I'll get put in jail! I'll never get to see Adrien again!" She finished her spiel by tossing the Chat Noir plush to the other side of the room. It squeaked almost indignantly at the abuse and fell limply at the foot her desk. Groaning, she sat back down beside Alya, who wrapped an arm around her in a comforting gesture.
"Girl, it's going to be different this time, I promise," Alya said gently, rubbing a hand on her shoulder, "you've already learned your lesson for one, so no more improv. And it won't be to voicemail this time, because we all know Adrien's just going to be home relaxing tonight!"
"Right," Marinette replied sarcastically, burying her face in her hands, "because I'm completely capable of not messing myself up in a live conversation with him. Face it, Alya, it's hopeless."
Her confidante was silent for a bit. Then, she heard the telltale tapping of fingers and the beeping of her phone, and she whipped her head up in horror. "Alya!" she screeched, reaching for her phone.
Alya danced away from her across the room, tapping on the phone with finality.
The faint ringing sound right afterwards chilled Marinette's blood. She leaned against her desk, clutching at her chest. Alya didn't.
"Better start getting hopeful, girl, because his phone is ringing."
"Alya, I can't believe—"
"Hello?" came Adrien's voice from the other end of the line. Alya grinned, pressed to activate speaker mode, and tossed Marinette her phone.
Marinette squeaked and fumbled to catch it. She looked at her best friend in betrayal and mortification, holding the phone out as far away from her as possible.
Alya made shooing motions with her hands and jumped behind her chaise.
"Hello?" came Adrien's voice again, this time tinged with uncertainty.
"Oh, uh, hi! Adrien! It! Marinette! Calling!" She heard Alya smack her head from behind the chaise, and Marinette, herself, cringed at how unnatural she sounded. She walked the length of her desk, trying to calm the furious beating of her heart.
"I'm calling because I—" her foot landed on something soft and squeaky, and she had enough time to look down at the Chat Noir plush she abused moments ago before her footing gave out from underneath her. She flew backwards, her phone flying from her hands. "BWAAH—!" She flailed and caught her arms on almost everything on her desk, including, but not limited to, her sewing supplies.
She let out a loud "OW!" of surprise when she felt one of her needles sink into her forearm and her butt meet the floor.
She vaguely registered Alya picking up her phone from the floor as she rubbed her butt. "Ohh, oww, oh my god, that's, owwww." She lifted her needled arm and flinched. "Am I bleeding? I'm bleeding, oh god."
Alya, still holding her phone, approached her and made a face at her injury. "What happened, girl?" she asked worriedly.
"I-I think I stabbed myself," Marinette replied, tone almost whining, as she held up her arm and poked at the needle, "oww, oh god that hurts, call an ambulance, it hurts to pull it out, Alya."
Alya opened her mouth to reply, but Adrien's voice suddenly came out of her phone, which they've both forgotten was still on call. "I'm coming, Princess!" he yelled and then the line went dead.
Marinette stared at her phone in Alya's hands, something in her brain trying to reconcile with something. Because that was Adrien, right? But right then he sounded just like…
"Did he just call you 'princess'?" Alya asked, interrupting her thoughts, also staring down at the phone in confusion.
Barely five minutes later, Chat Noir crashed through Marinette's window.
"MARINETTE, I'M HERE!" he hollered.
Marinette, who was sitting with Alya on her chaise, a first-aid kit in between them, stared at the black clad superhero breathing heavily as he stood on the shards of her broken window.
"Ch-Chat Noir?" she spluttered, her eyes wide. At the sound of his name, he turned his head to her, and green eyes met blue.
"Princess!" he exclaimed, sounding both relieved and incredulous. He strode over to her, arms outstretched and eyes blown wide. He cupped her cheeks and looked at her up and down. "You're okay?"
"I'm… okay," Marinette replied slowly, the cogs in her head turning rapidly. Why was Chat Noir here? Why did Chat Noir break her window? Why was he acting like this?
"Oh, thank god," he breathed out, gathering her in his arms and burying his face in her shoulder. Then he started babbling, "I thought you were dying! You were bleeding! Stabbed! I had to save you! I thought—"
And then it clicked.
"Adrien?!" Marinette and Alya screeched at the same time, startling Chat Noir. He backed away from Marinette and turned to look at Alya, looking almost horrified to see that she was there.
"Yeah, cat boy, I'm here too," Alya said, and she actually sounded amused, "or should I say 'Agreste'?"
"I… uhh…"
"Oh my god," Marinette rasped, pressing her hands to her face. "Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir."
"Looks like it, girl," Alya supplied, nodding, a big grin on her face. "I told you so!"
Chat Noir looked at both girls back and forth, raising his arms. "I, uh," he gulped at Marinette's sudden death glare and Alya's bemused smile. "Looks like the cat's out of the bag?" he quipped half-heartedly.
Alya laughed good-naturedly, obviously really happy about how the whole thing was turning out, but Marinette growled so loud that Chat Noir took a step back in fear.
"I'm going to put you back in the bag in a minute," she said menacingly, shooting up to her feet. Alya laughed even harder, doubling over and clutching at her stomach.
Gulping again, Chat Noir backed away towards the hole where the window used to be. His boots crunched against the shards he'd scattered across the floor. "Sorry, princess, but—"
"Marinette, Adrien calls you 'princess'!" Alya howled through her laughter.
Marinette froze at that, her face blushing red, and Chat Noir took that one moment as an opportunity to escape. "Well, I gotta dash! Sorry about your window, bye!" And he vaulted out the window, thoroughly confused, mildly terrified… and suddenly, inexplicably, very attracted to Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Have another one-shot from me. My brain was a mess and some demons needed releasing. So I wrote this on my phone, on the bus, while stuck in traffic. I hope you enjoyed though.
Crossposted on tumblr and Ao3. c: