Quick note: This is the last chapter of the fic! While I know this conclusion doesn't wrap things up as neatly as some people hoped, that's because I didn't think it was realistic for Adrien and Marinette to figure everything out after one weekend. That said, I do have a few ideas for a follow-up fic—which I'll probably write this fall or winter—so keep an eye out on my AO3 for that!

And finally, thank you so much to everyone who read/faved this fic or left a review! I really appreciate it.

The weekend passes in a blur, and all too soon, it's Monday. Marinette's almost convinced that the dance on Friday was a dream—except for the fact that people in the halls are talking about the akuma attack, and that Alya accosts Marinette the second she sees her.

"Spill!" Alya says, leaning against the locker next to Marinette's. Her trusty phone is in her hand, which means she may or may not be recording everything Marinette says. "You didn't say anything all weekend. How did the rest of your date with Charles go?"

"We just went back to my house and ate pastries," Marinette says. She grabs a notebook from her locker and shuts the door. "That's all."

Alya sighs in exasperation. "Quoi! No romantic dance in the moonlight? No heartfelt confessions of love?"

Both, of course, happened—but Alya's never going to find out about that. "No," Marinette insists. "We weren't really in the mood for dancing after the akuma attack."

As expected, Alya's eyes light up at the mention of the akuma attack. "Oh, yeah! Masquerage. I got a ton of close-up shots. You should've seen how quickly Ladybug and Chat beat the akuma! I've never seen them so focused."

Marinette shrugs, holding back a smile. "Maybe they had somewhere to be."

"That reminds me," Alya says. "Don't think I didn't see Charles carry you out of the dance, because I totally did." She taps something on her phone screen, then holds it up for Marinette to see. "I even got a picture."

"Alya." Marinette nudges the phone away. "Seriously?"

Alya cackles. "Relax, Marinette! It was sweet. He was being a gentleman."

"Ha," Marinette says, snorting. "You should see how he eats his food. Far from gentlemanly."

"Still…" Alya taps her chin. "It's too bad he didn't stick around for the akuma attack. It was his first one, and he missed it!"

"That's because he's a normal person," Marinette says. She starts towards the door, and Alya follows alongside her. "Most people run when they see an akuma. You're the exception."

"All in the name of journalism!" Alya declares. "As the creator of the Ladyblog, I'm expected to be on the scene. You'd understand if you were a reporter."

"Maybe."

They're halfway up the stairs to the classroom when Alya reaches out and stops her. "So."

Marinette glances around. The courtyard is almost empty by now—most students have already gone to their classrooms. "What?"

"Are you really still hung up on Adrien, after all that?"

"Wh—you—how—I…" Marinette shakes her head, spluttering. "What do you mean? Of course I am! Not—not hung up, that's the wrong word. But of course I still like him!"

Alya frowns. "Oh. I could've sworn…"

"Yes?"

She shrugs, adjusting her glasses. "You and Charles seemed pretty close at the dance. I thought maybe you two were dating."

"Alya," Marinette says with a sigh. "Charles means a lot to me. But I'm in love with Adrien! That's not going to change after one dance."

For a moment, she really thought it might. The night of the dance, she'd lain awake in bed and stared at the ceiling, clutching her Chat Noir doll against her heart and searching for answers. She loved Chat, that much was obvious. But how did she love him? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come to a conclusion. Thoughts muddled, she'd finally drifted off to a restless sleep.

Her dreams had been just as confusing. In one, she kissed Adrien, only to lean back and realize it was Chat she'd kissed; then Chat asked her out, and when Marinette opened her mouth to answer, no sound came out. In another dream, the two boys sparred for her affections, baton versus fencing foil, battering each other while Marinette stood frozen by indecision. The same images, over and over again, an exhausting marathon that wouldn't end.

And when Marinette woke up in the morning, there'd been that dreamlike veil over the whole dance. Half-convinced that the entire thing was a figment of her imagination, Marinette went about her weekend as if nothing had happened. The jacket and dress hung hidden in her closet, the mask stashed away in some drawer, and aside from a few sly digs from her parents, Marinette wasn't forced to confront reality.

Now, Alya's questions have unearthed her doubts all over again. Frustratingly, Marinette's still not sure how she feels about Chat—but she does know how she feels about Adrien, and she knows that her feelings for him haven't changed since last week. If anything, Marinette's newfound understanding of Chat has offered a few new insights about Adrien. After finding out that Chat had an entire side of his personality that she didn't know about, Marinette's realized that she only really knows one side of Adrien Agreste, too. She still hasn't gotten to know everything that makes him human: his flaws, his insecurities, the parts of himself that he's too afraid to show the world.

Today, she's more determined than ever to get closer to him and discover those things.

"You don't seem sure about that," Alya says.

"I have a crush on Adrien," Marinette repeats. "I know that much."

"If you say so," Alya says. She continues up the stairs, and Marinette hastens to keep up with her. "So are you finally going to ask Adrien out, then?"

"No!" Marinette says. "No, of course not! I still can't say hello without stuttering."

Alya glances over her shoulder. "Do you think you can manage that, then?"

Marinette gulps, thinking back over Chat's advice from Friday night. Don't be so nervous around Adrien. You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng! There's no way he thinks so little of you.

"I can try," she says.

Rolling her eyes, Alya leads Marinette into the classroom. Most of the other students are chatting in their seats, each individual voice lost in the buzz of conversation.

Except for one. Clear and light, Adrien's laugh floats above the others. Marinette freezes when she sees him in his seat, smiling and talking with Nino like always. Something about his gestures, his smile, his laugh seem familiar—but of course they seem familiar! He's Adrien Agreste, the boy she's been in love with for ages. What is she thinking?

After a few seconds, Adrien's eyes flick over to her. He raises a hand in greeting, his smile growing impossibly wider. "Salut, Marinette."

Marinette stands frozen for another second. Say something! Don't be nervous. He cares about you. He's happy to see you. You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng!

Inspiration strikes, and she mightily declares, "I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng!"

Every voice in the room falls silent. Chloé snorts, muffling a laugh behind her manicured hand, and Lila snickers in the back row. The expressions on her classmates' faces range from amusement to pity, and oh, no—this is worse than a stuttered bonjour. This is mortifying.

Marinette's feet start to move backward of their own accord, but Alya's hand wraps around her arm and holds her in place. When Marinette glances at her despairingly, Alya simply shakes her head. Then she mercilessly shoves Marinette toward Adrien's desk.

Adrien jumps up from his seat, a hand clutched to his chest dramatically. "Dupain-Cheng?" he repeats, his eyes wide. "Mon dieu! You're the Marinette Dupain-Cheng! I'm so very sorry, I didn't realize." He gives an elaborate bow and takes her hand in his, eyes sparkling. "I love your work, mademoiselle. I'm a huge fan, possibly your biggest."

"Adrichou," Chloé drawls. "What are you doing? I'm embarrassed for you."

Grinning, Adrien adds, "By the way, I'm Adrien Agreste. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Marinette giggles despite herself. It's hard not to, when Adrien's clutching her hand like she's a duchess or something. "Maybe once or twice."

"Ah, the betrayal!" Adrien exclaims, holding his free hand to his forehead. "The lady's barely heard of me! Nino, catch me. I'm feeling faint."

Nino glances between Marinette and Adrien. "Wait—what—"

Without further ado, Adrien throws himself at Nino, letting out a sigh as he does. Nino scrambles to catch him, awkwardly falling against the desk with his arms supporting Adrien's weight.

A few students are laughing, caught off-guard by Adrien's dramatic display. Mouth twitching toward a smile, Adrien fans himself and moans in pain. "Nino, save me! I'm a model. I need attention. Without it, I fear I shall die."

Alya snorts, and when Marinette glances over, she realizes her friend is recording the entire thing on her phone. Adrien must not realize—or maybe he does realize, which is why he's hamming it up so much. Marinette's chest shakes with barely suppressed laughter. Who knew Adrien Agreste was such a grandstander? He could give Chat a run for his money.

"What?" Nino says. "Alya, help."

"Nope," Alya says. "You're on your own."

"It's too late!" Adrien cries. "Even my best friend isn't paying attention to me. I'm not long for this world now. Nino, tell my hamster I love him."

With that, he closes his eyes and slumps against Nino, making a choking noise.

"You don't have a hamster!" Nino says.

Adrien cracks an eye open. "Then buy a hamster! And tell him I love him."

"Marinette," Nino says, as Adrien dies in his arms a second time. "Please help."

At this point, most of the class has burst into laughter, completely forgetting about Marinette's embarrassing outburst. Marinette laughs along with them, her stomach hurting as she gasps for air. "N-no, I don't think he wants to talk to me," she says. "I'm the one who brutally slayed him."

"That's right!" Adrien says, pointing in Marinette's direction with his eyes closed. "You did this, Marinette. My blood is on your hands."

Marinette rolls her eyes. "For the love of—"

"Class," Madamoiselle Bustier's voice rings out over the sound of giggling and guffawing. "You can have fun during your break. Now we need to start today's lesson." She smiles at Nino, who's staring at the ceiling as if wondering what he did to deserve this. "Adrien, do you need Nino to take you to the nurse?"

Adrien leaps away from Nino, his entire face bright red. One of his hands flies up to rub the back of his neck. "Ah, no, Madamoiselle Bustier. I'm, uh…I'm fine."

She nods. "You four take a seat, and then we'll begin."

"See, Marinette?" Alya murmurs. "Adrien totally wants you to pay more attention to him." With a snort, she pockets her phone and takes her seat behind Nino.

Smiling, Marinette makes her way to the seat behind Adrien's. "Thank you," she whispers as she passes him.

Adrien beams in response, though his face is still bright red. "Of course," he whispers back. "Though I think I overdid it."

Marinette sits behind him and leans forward. "Hm," she says. "Maybe the second death was a bit much, but I'd say it was still a solid performance."

Adrien tilts his head to glance back at her, his body still facing the front of the classroom. "I admit, my improvisation's a little weak. I'll have to work on that." The corner of his mouth tugs up in a smile. "Are you going to give me more material?"

Laughing, Marinette reaches down and shoves his shoulder. "Not if I can help it!"

"Marinette," Madamoiselle Bustier says. "Do you have a question?"

"Sorry!" Marinette says. "No."

"Then pay attention, please."

Adrien turns back toward the board, a blush still staining his ears and neck, and Marinette stares at the back of his head in awe. Adrien Agreste blushing, instead of her? It seems impossible. She wonders if this entire morning is just a crazy dream concocted by Chat's words. How else could she have had an entire conversation with Adrien sans stuttering?

And to be sure, she's intrigued by this new Adrien in front of her: one who makes a fool of himself to spare Marinette from humiliation, who puts on a dramatic show for Alya's camera, who laughs and jokes with Marinette like he's been doing it for years. Was he always like this? Is this what Marinette has been missing out on this whole time? It reminds her a little of Chat, but rather than repelling her, it only makes Adrien's pull on her stronger.

Maybe this won't be as hard as she thought. If Adrien's even a bit like Chat, Marinette shouldn't have any trouble talking to him. She smiles to herself. Yes, that's right. Today marks the day that Marinette Dupain-Cheng is no longer flustered by Adrien Agreste! Never again will she squeal or stutter. She's a new girl. No, a new woman. Her blushing schoolgirl days are officially behind her.

Then Adrien passes her a note halfway through class. By the way, Nino showed me a picture of you from the dance. You looked lovely. I wish I could have seen your dress in person—I love the design, especially the dark color you used for the lace. Do you think you'll ever design men's clothes with lace? Maybe you could try that for my father's next competition. I'd be happy to model for you if you do.

If the image of Chat in a lace shirt was difficult for Marinette's brain to handle, the thought of Adrien almost has her head exploding. Face heating, she buries her face in her hands and holds back a squeal.

Well. Maybe she's not a new woman, after all. But this time, she's not the only one blushing—and that, Marinette's sure, is progress.