25. Coincidence...?(2)

Marinette’s brow puckered at him as she turned to face him, his coat around her shoulders. As much as he hated to block the view of the back of that dress, it was necessary—couldn’t have Mari suffering from the cold. (And he had made sure to coax Plagg into his pants pocket before offering the coat to Marinette, so there was no risk of her fingers being bitten or scratched, among other questions his presence would raise...)

“Which is it—a few seconds or a few minutes?” She asked him, and Adrien chuckled.

“However long it takes me to say goodnight to you,” he answered, carefully brushing a hand down her cheek, watching the red flame across her face, seemingly following his touch. His fingertips brushed against her earlobes, where she still wore those simple, unnoticeable earrings. Adrien cringed.

“Are you sure you really like the earrings…?”

“Yes, and I’m not giving them back,” Marinette insisted, taking his hand away from her face and squeezing it. “I just don’t think pink and red go well together, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Adrien hummed, dubious, for he was still half-convinced that Marinette was just being polite. But if she refused to give them back, what could he do?

As if she sensed his misgivings, Marinette suddenly smirked up at him, her hands sliding over his shoulders to lock around his neck.

“But red goes very well with green,” she told him, looking devious as she stepped closer to him. Adrien’s arms automatically slid around her, fingertips brushing against her bare back under the coat. She shivered at the contact, and he grinned.

“Is that so…” As his head tilted towards her, watching the blaze come to life in her blue eyes, he murmured, “Too bad I’m not wearing any red…”

“I can help with that,” Marinette purred, stretching up to close the last bit of distance between them. Adrien matched her enthusiasm immediately, mouth moving against hers, the kisses fervent, needy. He could taste the mint on her tongue from the tea she ordered with dessert, and the feel of her teeth pressing into his bottom lip instead of her own made him moan and press closer to her, pinning her against her door. She didn’t seem to mind in the slightest; her fingers teased the ends of his hair, sending shivers down his spine when they trailed down his neck, scorching him without the burn, but with plenty of heat nonetheless.

“Do—mm—do you—”

She was trying to ask him something, but she kept interrupting herself by kissing him. Chuckling, Adrien pulled back a little, resisting the urge to sate the mew of protest that left Marinette as he put distance between them. Her eyes were hooded as she stared up at him, her face flushed, lipstick smudged—it was probably all over him now, but what else was new?

“Do I what?” he mumbled, resting his forehead against hers. Marinette swallowed, the rosiness in her cheeks growing.

“Do you…want to…come in?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Adrien eased his panting, closing his eyes as he tried to think with his mind rather than his loins.

He and Marinette had never crossed this particular line before—their make-out sessions had never gone past second base, and were also few and far between, so their experience in exploring each other had basically been nonexistent. But here she was, giving him an opportunity to possibly satisfy all the carnal desires that woke him in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, his underwear uncomfortably soaked and tight. He had already admitted this to Alya, and he would let himself think it once again: he would be lying if he said sex with Marinette tonight had not crossed his mind…especially after seeing her in that dress…

And yet…

His cheek tingled, an unwanted reminder, but a reminder nonetheless.

Ladybug had kissed him.

It had meant nothing, but even still, it was hard for Adrien to stop thinking about it.

And if he went to bed with Marinette tonight…and Ladybug suddenly popped into his head while they were together…

Adrien let out a sigh that was equal parts frustration and resignation.

He couldn’t do that. Not to Marinette. She deserved better from him.

He opened his eyes to find Marinette watching him, her expression deflating as she read the emotions in his eyes. Cringing, Adrien rushed to assure her.

“I want to, Mari. I really, really want to…” He carefully drew back, his hands moving to cup Marinette’s cheeks instead of her backside. “But I also want to cherish you. And I know I’ve been dragging my feet, and I’m sorry. You’ve been so patient with me…but I want to take it slow and do this right. I want you to be my girlfriend—I want to ask you to be my girlfriend—before we get into anything deeper.” He frowned to himself, unsure whether or not he was full of it at this point. God, he was being anal, wasn’t he? “Does that make sense?”

Marinette stared up at him for a measured moment, her eyes uncharacteristically enigmatic. Adrien watched her anxiously, wondering if this was the night that she would decide that she was done with his emotional baggage, that he was making this too hard, that maybe he wasn’t worth it after all—

He needn’t have worried—just as she always did, Marinette smiled softly, her look of grace the most beautiful thing Adrien had ever seen.

“I understand,” she assured him, taking his hands away from her face once again, holding them within her own. “I don’t want to rush you into anything you’re not ready for.”

Adrien sighed, dropping his head to bump his forehead with hers once again as he closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Mari.”

Marinette giggled, the sound a tad shy, and Adrien opened his eyes again to look at her, take her all in. Beautiful, blushing, patient Mari. What had he done to deserve her? Not a damn thing. But even so…

“That being said…” Adrien cleared his throat, feeling himself flush.

‘Don’t choke, don’t choke,’ his mind chanted at him, and he drew in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He could do this…he could do this…

“That being said…Marinette…will you be my girlfriend?”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide; it was clear that she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that question tonight. Adrien watched as she briefly floundered, her freckles drowning in a sea of red.

“I—uh, a-are you sure…?”

Adrien grinned. She was just so cute.

“I’m sure,” he promised her, kissing her nose and laughing when she blushed more. “So…should I give you time to think about it?”

Marinette pursed her lips.

“Um…it might look bad if people know I’m dating you before Desiree’s competition ends…”

“I can wait until then,” Adrien said with a shrug. “You were willing to wait for me for a month and a half—”

“I-I didn’t mean I wanted to wait,” Marinette protested, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip. “I just meant…if we’re going to do this…we should be, um…discreet.”

“…So, by ‘discreet’, you mean I shouldn’t send extravagant gifts like giant singing teddy bears or fifty bouquets of pink roses to you while you’re in Desiree’s classroom?”

The blazing red that flashed through Marinette’s face amused Adrien.

“Adrien—”

“I’m kidding, Mari,” he said to put her at ease, grinning mischievously before it softened into a hopeful smile. “But, by the ‘discreet’ plan…can I take that to mean that you’re…saying yes?”

Marinette’s answering smile was dazzling, and Adrien felt like he could die happy at that very moment.

“Yes,” she confirmed, the tail end of the word ending in a squeak of surprise as Adrien lifted her into his arms, kissing her with such gusto it made her laugh before kissing him back. The heat between them a minute ago gave way to tenderness, their kisses soft and sure and certain that, though neither of them knew what they were doing exactly, this felt right. After a few minutes, Adrien lowered Marinette back down to the ground, resting his forehead against hers once more. He could look into her eyes forever—they were so deep, so blue, and they sparkled and shone, as if they contained the cosmos. She was so beautiful, so smart, so funny, so sweet…and Adrien was so very, very smitten.

“I should go,” he said softly after a moment, the words forlorn. Marinette sighed, her pout tempting.

“Do you have to?”

Adrien chuckled, pecking her lips once more before he stepped back, reluctantly leaving the warmth of her embrace.

“I should,” he repeated, taking one of her hands and planting a kiss to the back of it. “Good night, Mari.”

Marinette gave him one last smile, retrieving her keys from her purse and unlocking the door behind her.

“Good night, Adrien,” she bade him, stepping back into her apartment. Her hand went to the door as she looked at him, smirking a little. “And you know what? I was right: red is a good color on you.”

She giggled as he blushed, probably further proving her point, before she shut the door. Adrien listened for the sound of the deadbolt sliding home, and he sighed, spinning on his heel as he skipped down her stairs, a hand over his heart.

He did it—he asked her! And now she was his girlfriend! He could call Mari his girlfriend now!

Adrien was so giddy that he had almost forgotten—again—about the lipstick smeared over his face. He caught his reflection in one of the windows of his car and had to snort—she had completely covered him with the stuff.

‘Time for a new handkerchief,’ Adrien thought with a grimace as he drew the fabric out once again to de-grafitti his face. It was a shame, really, since Erika had given him this one, but he was sure she’d understand. In fact, she’d probably be thrilled to learn that the gift had to be sacrificed because Marinette couldn’t keep her lips off him.

Adrien drew the handkerchief back, stepping over to a nearby streetlight to inspect the damage—

The scrap of fabric was covered in sparkly red lipstick.

Adrien frowned. Wait, that couldn’t be right…the handkerchief was folded into fourths, and he had used one corner to rub away the lipstick Ladybug and left on him, and another corner to get rid of all the lipstick from Marinette’s kisses…or maybe he had used the same corner by accident? In that case, it made perfect sense—

Adrien unfolded the handkerchief. On one corner, there was a small smear of sparkly red lipstick. Adjacent to the corner was all the lipstick Adrien had wiped off just now. Both were dark red and sparkly.

The shades were identical.

Adrien’s neck began to tingle. Suddenly, he was very aware of the way his heart pounded in his chest, of the way his tongue had suddenly turned into sandpaper, of the way the world was suddenly tilting, shifting the wrong way—

‘It’s a coincidence,’ his mind insisted automatically, a defense mechanism to guard his sanity springing into play. ‘This lipstick is probably mass-produced…lots of women probably own this shade…’

And two women with the same brand of lipstick just happened to kiss him tonight?

Adrien’s hand began to tremble as he stared down at what he simply could not process. It had to be impossible, it had to be. There was no way he would have missed it if it were true, absolutely no way. This had to be nothing more than coincidence, there was no way that Ladybug—

There was no way that Ladybug should have known that he was seeing someone.

Adrien was sure of it—as Chat, he had never told Ladybug that he was involved with someone. As Chat, he hadn’t told anyone that he was involved with someone—except for—

The sound of doors swinging open intruded upon Adrien’s realization, and he whirled around to find Marinette emerging onto her balcony. Her face was pale, her eyes wide in her face as she rushed to the balcony railing, staring down at him. Adrien waited, on edge, wondering if she was about to cry that there was an akuma in her room or something—

Marinette said nothing. She just stared at him, the moonlight adding a midnight blue sheen to her raven hair, her wide, bluebell eyes laser-focused on him—

Looking at him.

Adrien stared back, hardly daring to breathe, his heart pounding violently against his Adam’s apple.

He couldn’t believe it.

It absolutely was not possible.

But it was.

It didn’t make any sense.

But it did.

Marinette was Marinette.

But Ladybug was…

Marinette’s—Ladybug’s—Marinette’s lips parted, and she took a breath, looking as if she might say something…but she didn’t. After a tense moment, she just shut her mouth, raised a hand…and waved, a small smile on her face.

Unsure of what else to do, Adrien returned the gesture with his free hand, his other balling his handkerchief in his fist. He didn’t know what to do. Half of him wanted to confront her, but the other half…the other half was just in shock. If he was right—and he was half-convinced that he was—then…this changed everything.

…But what if he was wrong?

Couldn’t it all be just a coincidence…?

Marinette turned, looking like she intended to go back inside. So Adrien made himself move too, turning to let himself into his car. But he felt eyes on the back of his head, and he turned just in time to see Marinette turning around again, her back ramrod straight as she went into her room, something clutched in her arms…his coat?

Maybe she meant to tell him that he forgot to take it back. Maybe he should ask for it back. Maybe he should ask to come in after all, because there was no way he was going to sleep if he didn’t get any clarity on this matter—

But the balcony doors slammed shut, and it was too late. Adrien forced himself to take a deep breath, getting into his car. But even then, he just sat there, staring out his windshield for a while. Dimly, it occurred to him that his handkerchief was still balled up in his hand, and he unrolled it again, staring at the lipstick smudges.

They were the same. Adrien knew make-up—it came hand-in-hand with his knowledge of clothes—and he could tell that they were the same exact shade.

Of course, that proved absolutely nothing.

And of course, he could have forgotten mentioning his relationship to Ladybug already.

The earrings…

Well…she could just really like those plain earrings, for some reason…

And the thing with the strawberry-filled chocolates wasn’t so uncommon…

And maybe she did really have to use the bathroom when he’d made the excuse to get away…

It could all so easily be a coincidence.

So, wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it just a coincidence…?