Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Adrien ran his paintbrush, dipped in a violent, painful red, along the canvas¹, slashing a wound through the navy blue sky he’d been painting. He’d been painting a night landscape - visions of sparkling white stars sprinkled across deep blues and purples and blacks, but when he’d sat back to examine his work, it had just looked too... peaceful.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately,” Kagami observed from where she was sitting next to him. She had an apron neatly tied around her to save her from the paint, and her posture was absolutely perfect as she painted the fruit bowl in front of her with the utmost realism.

He, on the other hand, had stopped wearing aprons almost three months ago. He mostly didn’t sit at easels anymore either, but since Kagami was over and they were in the parlor rather than in his room, he figured he should try to look a little civilized. He straightened his back, lowering his paintbrush and looking over at her. “What do you mean?”

“When we paint,” Kagami said, her honey eyes looking over his painting before flicking back to her own with a critical eye. Her voice was smooth and even. “You paint something beautiful, and then you take a paintbrush to it like a knife.”

Snorting, he dipped his paintbrush into a more of the red, overloading it with the paint and then pressing hard along the gash he’d already made. “If you don’t like my paintings, you can just say so,” he said, watching the excess red paint dribble down over his night sky like blood. “I can take it. I’m a big boy.”

“I don’t hate your paintings,” Kagami replied, squinting at the fruit bowl and then fixing the shading on the banana. “I think they’re quite beautiful, in fact.”

“So what are you saying?” Adrien asked, tilting his head at the wound of red paint. He picked up a different brush and mixed the red and the navy blue he’d used for the sky, creating a lovely purple shade. He began to blend the edges of the red into the sky, like it had actually opened up there among the stars.

“I’m only saying that I’ve noticed you do it nearly every time we paint together,” Kagami said, her shoulders lifting halfway in a nonchalant shrug. “It was simply an observation.”

Right. If there was one thing Adrien had learned since he and Kagami’s engagement went public and they’d begun spending more and more time together, it was that when Kagami made an observation out loud about something, it usually meant she thought it meant something. She wouldn’t talk about it straight out because she and Adrien liked keeping their boundaries very clear, but she would say her observations, and she would wait for Adrien to come to her.

He liked that about her. He liked that he had someone to talk to about what was one his mind, someone who wouldn’t push him, and someone who didn’t mind when he let go of his public persona for a while. It was nice.

“You want to hear an observation of mine?” he asked, and she hummed. He leaned over, painting a purple smiley face on her apron. “You think too much.”

She looked down at the smiley face, and he could tell that she was fighting back a smile. 

“That was very childish,” she said.

“You’re no fun.”

She flicked her paintbrush at him, splattering him with banana-shading color. Adrien laughed.

“Now who’s the childish one?” he asked, and she made a face at him.

“Still you.”

---

The day was hot², the sun blazing down on him, and Adrien sighed, wiping his face with the back of his arm. He’d been working with the community outreach and charity organization run by a quaint little bakery that sat just between the nice and seedy parts of the city for a few weeks now, and he liked it, really. He loved it immensely, and he enjoyed seeing more of the city and the people that lived in it.

But it really was a hot day, and Adrien was sweating more than he could ever remember in his whole life.

“You’ve been hauling those crates of supplies for a while now,” Sabine Dupain-Cheng, co-owner of the bakery said, coming up behind him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Tom can finish the rest later. How about you come inside for a glass of water and whatever pastry you like?”

“Oh, there’s only a few more, Madame. If your husband and I do the rest now together, we’ll have it all inside in no time,” he said, standing up straight and flashing Mrs. Dupain-Cheng a smile.

She looked between him and Tom, a look of bemused exasperation on her face. “Well, fine then. But do come in for a bit of rest, okay?”

“I promise, Madame,” he said, bowing to her, and she laughed, shaking her head and returning to the inside of the bakery.

“You know she won’t mind too much if you just call her Sabine,” Tom said, holding three crates with ease in his large, beefy arms as he walked past Adrien. Adrien opened up the door for him so that he could carry the supplies inside.

“Yeah, I know,” Adrien said with a shrug, and he went back to the big cart almost empty of crates. “It doesn’t hurt to be respectful, though.”

“You and all your manners,” Tom said, laughing as he climbed up onto the cart and handed a crate down to Adrien.

Adrien grinned.

He liked the Dupain-Chengs. Over the weeks that he’d been working with them in putting together care packages for the people in need, he’d gotten pretty close with them - mostly because they were almost overbearingly kind. They took Adrien in like he was one of their own on that first day, welcoming him with gracious smiles and open arms even though he’d been scared out of his mind that they’d hate him for being part of a family that caused the problems they were trying to fix.

But they accepted him as he was, and Adrien loved that.

He and Tom finished taking in the supplies, and then they went into the kitchen to join Sabine and take up her offer of a glass of water and a pastry. As they came in, Tom leaned down and gave Sabine and sweet kiss on the temple, and Adrien couldn’t help but smile.

Marinette, their daughter, was on the other side of the kitchen, dutifully putting together sandwiches for the care packages.

Whereas Tom and Sabine had welcomed Adrien’s offer of help and funds whenever he was able to persuade his father to ease up on his coin purse, Marinette hadn’t ever really clicked with him in that same way. He wasn’t sure why, but she’d always avoided him, keeping her interactions with him as short as they could possibly be.

He was afraid she hated him. For what business his name was a part of, for his past ignorance.

“Adrien, do you have a preference for what pastry you’d like?” Sabine asked, and at the call of his name, he saw Marinette visibly stiffen. But she continued with her work, keeping her back resolutely to Adrien.

“Everything you bake is frankly delightful,” Adrien replied, looking back to Sabine and smiling at her. “Surprise me.”

Sabine shook her head, muttering under her breath something that sounded a little bit like “sweet handsome boy” and went into the front display area to pick something out.

Tom wiped his face off with a dishcloth and then tossed the cloth over to Adrien. He caught it, nodding to Tom in thanks before wiping himself off as well. He poured them both a glass of water, dropping in a block of ice in each, and they leaned against the counter for a moment, cooling off.

“You heading home soon?” Tom asked, and Adrien shook his head, running the cool glass over his hot forehead. It was odd - almost every time he stopped by the Dupain-Cheng bakery, there was always this buzz, this itch underneath his skin. It was like he couldn’t settle down.

“No. I told my father not to expect me back until late,” he replied, and Tom nodded. It was only partly true. He told Nathalie to tell his father not to expect him home until late. His father didn’t exactly approve of his recent charity work - which wasn’t cool, in Adrien’s opinion - so he’d stopped asking his permission to go out and do it. After the first week, his father seemed to realize this and stopped telling him not to go, only giving him disapproving looks from across their twenty-foot long dining table.

And that was something Adrien had dealt with for a long time, so it was fine. But he didn’t really like having dinner with his father much, anyway, so he’d been staying out a lot longer on his days out. 

“Well,” Tom said, slapping a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien only just managed to keep his footing. “We can always use some extra help around here,” he said, and he smiled at Adrien in such a fatherly and glittering smile that Adrien felt his whole chest squeeze.

He had a feeling Tom and Sabine knew he didn’t like to be at home much. Which just made their loving smiles and casual parental gestures mean all the more.

Sabine returned, handing Adrien a pain au chocolat wrapped neatly in a napkin and patting his cheek before returning to washing pans and cake molds in the sink.

“I don’t get one?” Tom asked, and Sabine waved her hand.

“Get one yourself,” she called back at him, her pale blue eyes sparkling. “And get a move on decorating the rest of that cake for the Lahiffe family.”

“Alright, alright,” Tom said, finishing off his glass of water and going over to the sink to wash his hands. While there, he nudged himself into Sabine’s space, big frame looming over his wife as she giggled up at him. Adrien smiled, taking a bite out of the pastry. It was, in fact, delicious.

He’d gotten halfway through the pastry before realizing that he was the only one in the kitchen not doing work. He quickly finished the rest of the pastry and went to wash his hands before stepping over to Marinette. She was working on charity stuff, and that was what Adrien was here to help with, after all.

Not that he’d mind helping Tom or Sabine with bakery stuff, but he was fairly certain he would be more hurt than help in that department. 

He finished tying an apron around his waist, looking over at Marinette, who seemed determined not to meet his gaze. “What can I do?” Adrien asked her, and she stared down at the sandwich she was making with laser focus, perfectly folding the meat into even lines and carefully positioning the cheese on top of it.

“Nothing,” she said to the sandwich. “Thank you.”

Adrien tapped his fingertips on the counter. “I can hand you the meat and cheese,” he offered.

“I am perfectly capable of doing that myself,” she replied, and despite the fact that the words themselves were cold, she said them in such a way that warmed them up. Like even though she really didn’t want to work beside him, she still didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“I can make sandwiches with you,” he tried, watching her place the sandwich she’d just made on a neat pile of other already-made sandwiches and move on to the next.

“I’m almost finished,” she said, and there was a lock of hair hanging down over her face. She looked up from the sandwich to it before looking back down. “I am alright with finishing on my own.” She blew a breath at the hair to try and get it out of her face. It rode her breath, and then fell back down into her face. She let out a small sigh, finishing the sandwich and moving onto the next.

“Here,” Adrien said, and he carefully reached over, tucking the lock of hair behind her ear. She pulled away from his touch, her eyes finally meeting his. They were blue, bright blue. And they were familiar.

There was that itch again.

She tore her eyes away from him. “You can’t help until you wash your hands again,” she said to the countertop.

“Does that mean you’ll let me help?” Adrien asked, and he took her silence as a yes. He went back to the sink, washing his hands beside Sabine, who gave him an encouraging smile. Returning to Marinette’s side, he wiped his damp hands on his apron. “So what can I do?”

Marinette pushed a roll of butcher paper over to him. “Wrap up the finished sandwiches,” she said, and so that was what he did.

Once she finished making the last of the sandwiches, finishing wrapping them up was quick work. And when that was done, they moved into placing the sandwiches into the waiting care packages, working silently side by side and in tandem.

Adrien thought, vaguely, that he and Marinette would be good friends. If she ever decided to talk to him.

He passed her the last package of dried meats that had been in the extra supply crates that he and Tom had brought in earlier, and she dropped it in the last care package, tying the cloth tight around the sandwiches, hygiene products, and other various items. She sat back on her heels, pushing her hair back from her face and tilting her head to the side.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said softly, mostly directed at the package beneath her. “That went faster than it would’ve if I had done it alone.”

“It’s no problem,” Adrien said, picking up the care package and going to stack it with all the others. He stepped back, letting out a low whistle as he admired their work. “There’s enough here to feed an entire neighborhood.”

“That’s kind of the point,” she said, and there was something soft in her voice, like she was smiling. And he wanted to look back, wanted to see her smile, but he knew that if he did, she’d whip her eyes away from him and wipe the smile off of her face. So he kept his back to her, and he smiled, too.

“When are you going to deliver them out?” he asked, fixing the tie on one of the packages. He still kept his back to her, hoping that if he didn’t try to push eye contact, she would feel more comfortable around him.

“Volunteers are coming tomorrow to help pass them out,” she said, and he nodded.

“Any room for one more volunteer?” he asked. There was a pause.

“We never turn away volunteers,” she said, and, really, Marinette seemed to be the master of saying polite things with impolite intentions but still managing to sound polite. It was a wonderfully charming talent, even if it was being used at Adrien’s expense, and Adrien couldn’t help but laugh. It wasn’t even a bitter laugh.

“But you want to turn me away,” he said, and he finally turned around to look at her. Their eyes caught for a moment, and shiver ran down his spine.

“That’s not what I said,” she said, flicking her eyes away.

“It’s what you meant,” he replied, and her lips pursed. Adrien grinned.

“You are welcome to come tomorrow,” she said at his left shoe, burning holes nearly through his toes with the intensity of her glare. “We would love extra help.”

“Even if it is from me,” he finished, and her nose twitched, the corners of her lips pulling down. “Come now, Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” he said, sitting down in front of the care packages so that they were on the same level. “I already know you don’t care for me very much, and I really won’t mind if you throw a few insults my way. That’s a promise.”

“I’m not going to insult you,” she said, and she still wasn’t looking at him, but she was definitely rolling her eyes. “And you don’t have to butter me up like you do with my mom.”

“I am doing no such thing with either you or your mother,” Adrien scoffed, and then paused. “What do you imagine someone eavesdropping would think of that statement?” he asked, and a very cute and very surprised snort burst from Marinette’s mouth.

His eyes widened.

She covered the rest of her laugh with her hand, turning her face away. “You are absolutely awful,” she said, but he could hear it - the baby blue sound of her smile creeping into her voice.

“Oh, and you had just said that you wouldn’t insult me,” Adrien said, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Really, Ms. Dupain-Cheng, where’s your former resolve?”

“And where’s your insistence that you wouldn’t mind if I threw an insult your way?” she asked, shaking her head and standing up. 

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Adrien replied, and she scoffed, wiping her hands on her apron.

“It was hardly an insult.”

“Then was it a compliment?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and giving her a smile.

She turned back to him, and when she looked at him, there was a sadness that Adrien couldn’t quite pinpoint hiding behind the bright blue, even as her lips pulled up into a smile. “You’re quite cheeky for an engaged man, aren’t you, Mr. Agreste?”

And.

Well.

She left the room before Adrien could say anything in reply.

Adrien supposed that was for the best.

It’s not like- it’s not like he’d forgotten, per se. It was just that being around Marinette, being in the bakery with the Dupain-Chengs and preparing charity work, made him lose himself a little bit. Take off all the responsibilities and burdens from his shoulders, just for a little while so that he could help others with a smile on his face. 

It was like he was two different people. Like the Adrien Agreste that he was supposed to be at the mansion and at the parties and even with Kagami, someone who he trusted and valued as a friend, was entirely different from the Adrien he let himself be when he was out helping the community with the Dupain-Chengs. When he was here, something deep inside of himself pushed Kagami and the whole arranged marriage business off to the side.

And he liked it.

Not having to think about Kagami. About…

“Marinette did say you two finished the packages,” Sabine said, breaking into Adrien’s spiralling mental state, “but seeing it done so early is wonderful!”

Adrien gave her something that he was sure was passable as a pleasant enough smile.

Something in Sabine’s expression turned sympathetic, and she reached out a hand to Adrien, pulling him up off the floor with a deceptively strong grip. “Marinette left just now to meet up with her friend and discuss tomorrow’s plan,” she said, patting his shoulder.

“She’s very dedicated,” Adrien said, trying to put some easy-going strength in his voice. He was pretty sure Sabine was convinced that there was something more happening between him and Marinette despite them hardly ever talking, and seeing him sitting alone in a back room of the bakery looking probably very miserable after Marinette had just left was probably not helping the case. “She’s the kind of person that this community needs, that this whole city needs.” He tried to convey to Sabine with a smile that said he was fine.

Sabine tilted her head at him. And then she smiled back. Adrien let out a breath of relief. 

“Yes, this whole charity was Marinette’s idea,” she said, hooking her arm with Adrien’s and walking them back to the kitchen. “Tom and I want to help her, of course, and we do - but there’s only so much we can do because we still have to keep the bakery up and running.” She paused as they entered the kitchen, letting go of Adrien to go fetch him a new apron. “It’s really such a miracle that she’s managed to get so many donations to her cause. Or maybe not,” she said, giving Adrien a wink as she traded the apron in her hands with the apron Adrien had worn before. “She is a force to be reckoned with, after all.”

“That is true,” he said with a laugh, taking the other apron with only mild confusion. He looked over at Tom, and Tom gestured for him to wash his hands before joining him by the counter, where he was throwing some ingredients into a bowl.

“It’s always nice to have a fresh apron before making bread,” Tom explained, and Adrien raised his eyebrows, wiping off his hands on his fresh apron.

“I’m going to be making bread?” he asked as Tom began to mix together the ingredients in the bowl.

“I’ll be out in the front,” Sabine said, planting a kiss on Tom’s cheek and giving Adrien a little wave before disappearing into the front part of the bakery.

“Yes, you are,” he said, and he picked up a mass of beige, sticky-looking dough from the bowl before plopping it down on the floured countertop. “Kneading it, at least.”

Adrien blinked. And then he grinned. “Alright,” he said, and he promptly began kneading the dough.

---

Night had already fallen³ by the time Adrien reached the gates of the Tsurugi estate. After helping Tom bake a wonky-looking loaf of bread (that Tom insisted was perfect) and having dinner with Tom and Sabine, Adrien had left the Dupain-Cheng bakery with a light heart. Marinette hadn’t come back while he was still there, though. He thought that perhaps that might’ve been on purpose.

Regardless, there was something he needed to do. And he only felt strong enough to do it now, when there was a pleasing ache in his arms and a lightness in his chest. He wasn’t sure before, but he was sure now.

The butler instructed him to wait in the parlor, so Adrien did, although he didn’t sit down. He stood, looking out of the window, up into the sky.

“Pretty sky tonight,” Kagami said, and Adrien felt himself smile.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes trailing over the stars twinkling down at him. “Beautiful.”

“Care for a walk?” she asked, holding out her arm, and Adrien turned, giving her an elaborate bow before taking her arm.

“Sounds wonderful,” he replied, and they left through the front door, walking out into the gentle heat of the night.

“I’m assuming you have a reason you came here other than for a late night walk,” Kagami said as they walked along the path that circled her house.

“You’re assuming correct,” Adrien said, nodding his head. They were walking outside of the ballroom now, and he guided her toward the bench they’d sat at the night they’d met.

They sat down, and Kagami folded her hands in her lap, tracing a line in the gravel with the toe of her slipper. Adrien leaned back, turning his face up to the sky.

“I needed to tell you,” Adrien said, closing his eyes and letting the warm summer breeze trail across his face. “I really do enjoy your company, and your friendship has become something that I value very much.”

“But you aren’t going to marry me,” Kagami said, and there was no sadness in the hazel tones of her voice. Only certainty.

Adrien opened his eyes, looking over at her. The corners of his lips turned up into a smile, and he felt, for the first time in many weeks, at peace. “No, Kagami. I am not going to marry you.”

Kagami studied his face for a moment, and then she sighed, letting out a small laugh. “I expected as much,” she said, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. They both looked up at the sky, watching the stars burn. “Since the day I met you, in fact.”

“You always have been quicker than me, haven’t you?” Adrien asked. Kagami took his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Yes, and I always will be,” she replied, and he laughed. She looked down at their hands, smiling softly. “I have always done just as my mother has asked of me,” she said, moving her thumb across his knuckles, “and I suspect you have done the same with your father. But when you told me that night that you have a soulmate, I just knew…” She shook her head, letting out a small laugh. “You’re a romantic at heart, Adrien. That has always been apparent to me.”

“Maybe I am,” Adrien said softly, giving her hand a squeeze in return. He let out a sigh, staring up at the stars and wondering. “But you know I haven’t seen my soulmate in quite a while. I don’t even know if I’ll ever see her again.”

“So you’ve said,” Kagami said, and she said it in that way that told Adrien she didn’t believe him - not about not having seen his soulmate, just that they wouldn’t meet again. Any time they’ve broached the topic, Adrien had said the same thing, and she would always shake her head. She believed in destiny, in fate, in star-crossed.

“This - me breaking off the engagement, that is - isn’t necessarily about her. About having a soulmate.” He said, and he felt her nod.

“I know that.”

“I just… I want to be clear now that I am my own person. That what I want matters.”

“And you’ll tell your father that just fine,” Kagami said, and Adrien breathed out a sigh.

“I hope so.” He paused, looking down at her. “What will you tell your mother?”

“That you broke my heart,” Kagami replied matter-of-factly, and Adrien leaned away from her, raising an eyebrow. She laughed. “Just kidding.”

“Oh, thank God.”

The laughter was still there in her honeyed eyes when she looked at him. “I’ll just tell her the truth. That we both decided that we didn’t want to get married. That I don’t really ever want to get married.”

Adrien nodded. “I can’t imagine you as a wife,” he said, and she laughed again.

“Neither can I.” She bumped her shoulder with his. “You’ll make a great wife, though.”

“I did make bread today,” Adrien mused.

“See? Already on your way there.”

They laughed and sat together for a while longer. And Adrien knew, somewhere in the back of his heart, that they’d always be friends.

---

Adrien’s arms were extremely sore⁴ - he now understood why Tom was so built after a lifetime of owning a bakery and kneading bread every morning. And carrying a crate full of care packages through several neighborhoods was not helping the matter, per se, but it did help that Marinette always stopped to talk a little with the people they were dropping off the packages to. It always gave him a little time to rest his arms a bit.

He’d met up with the volunteers early that day, and they’d split into pairs to deliver the packages. Marinette’s friend, a journalist for the Parisian Times named Alya, had been the one to divide up the groups. When she had pushed Marinette toward Adrien, Adrien didn’t miss the glare Marinette shot in Alya’s direction.

When he’d tried to talk with Alya about perhaps having a different partner for Marinette’s benefit, she’d given him a pat on the shoulder and said with a friendly smile, “absolutely not.” She’d also asked to meet up later in the evening so that she could get a statement from him for the Times. Adrien got the sense that Alya was not the type of person to say no to, so he agreed.

Currently, he was sitting outside of the Lahiffe family home, half-full crate next to him, while Marinette talked and laughed with Mrs. Lahiffe. Snippets of their conversation drifted back to him - they were talking about the cake that Sabine had delivered earlier that day for the younger son’s birthday. How his eyes had lit up at the sight of it. She was telling Marinette to thank her parents for giving the cake to them for free.

Adrien smiled. He really did love the Dupain-Chengs.

“Well, ain’t you the odd egg out,” said a voice from above him, and Adrien looked up to see a friendly looking guy about his age looking down on him. He had brown skin the color of wood chips and burnished sunshine, and he was holding a glass of water out to Adrien. “You look exhausted, man.”

“Just from the heat,” Adrien replied, taking the glass of water from him and taking a sip. It was nice and cool, and he let out a long sigh. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he replied, and he sat down next to him, giving him a rather sweet smile. “You looked like you were lonely sittin’ over here by yourself.”

Adrien laughed. “Did I?”

“Nah,” the guy said, bumping his shoulder with his. “Just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“The water wasn’t enough?” Adrien asked.

“Wanted to spice it up a bit,” he said, giving Adrien a shrug and offering him his hand. “I’m Nino.”

“Adrien,” he replied, shaking Nino’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Are you the birthday boy?” he asked, nodding his head back to where Marinette and Mrs. Lahiffe were still talking.

“Nah, that’s my younger brother, Chris.”

“Tell him I said happy birthday, then,” Adrien said, and Nino nodded.

“No problem,” Nino said, stretching his legs out. “I’m sure he’d love to hear that Adrien Agreste himself said it. He’s a big fan of your daddy’s company, you know. He loves all the suits and whatever.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “You knew who I was?”

Nino shrugged. “Alya talks. Marinette complains.” He paused, shooting Adrien a grin. “I listen.”

“Well, considering I did give Marinette free reign on insults, I hope what you’ve heard isn’t too bad,” Adrien said with a wince. Nino laughed.

“Course not. Marinette hasn’t got a mean bone in her body, no matter what fronts she puts up.”

“I’ve gotten the sense,” Adrien said, looking back at where Marinette was giving Mrs. Lahiffe her last goodbyes. “I just wish I knew why she doesn’t like me.”

For some reason, that made Nino laugh again. He stood up, and he offered Adrien a hand. “Come by again sometime, Adrien. I have a feeling hangin’ with you would be just the berries.”

“Sure,” Adrien replied, giving Nino a confused smile as Marinette came back.

“See you around, Marinette,” Nino said, ruffling Marinette’s hair as he walked back to his house. “Send Alya my love.” She swatted at his hands and shot him a quick smile before turning back to Adrien. There was an easy light in her eyes, and Adrien smiled at her.

Her lips twitched up at the corners like she wanted to smile back at him, but then she looked away, smoothing her hair where Nino had messed it up. “Ready?” she asked.

“For sure,” Adrien replied, and they moved on.

By the time they finished passing out the packages, the sun was setting, throwing shades of pinks and oranges across the horizon. As they were walking along the Seine, Adrien paused, staring up at the sky. Marinette stopped beside him, and she followed his gaze to the splash of colors that were painted along the clouds.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing the sun set,” Adrien said softly, and there was this- ache in his chest. Like his heart was pulling him toward something, but he wasn’t quite sure what.

Marinette was quiet for a moment. “Me neither,” she finally said, pausing for a moment. “Although I do prefer sunrises.”

“Oh?” Adrien asked, not looking at her. “And why is that?”

“It’s the start of a new day,” she said, and he saw her lift and drop her shoulders. He waited. “And… right before the sun comes, there’s this blue that washes over everything - the sky, the houses, the air. I like that.”

Adrien hummed. He took a chance, and he sat down. “Is blue your favorite color?” he asked, setting aside the empty crate and running his fingers through the plush grass.

She sat down beside him, and Adrien tried to hide his relief. “No,” she said, bringing her knees up to her chest and hugging her legs.

“What is?”

She stared out at the slow-moving water, something small and wistful playing across her expression. “Green.”

“Mine is blue,” Adrien said, and she leaned her chin on her knees.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Adrien began untying his shoes, slipping them off his feet and pulling down his socks. She looked over at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to walk barefoot along the Seine,” he said, standing up and spreading his arms wide. She looked at him like she was searching for something. “Someone I love said she liked to do this once. I’ve been meaning to try it out.”

He took a few steps in between her and the water, his arms out beside him as he touched his heel to his toes with each step. He dropped his arms to his side, closing his eyes and facing the water. There was the ache, and there was an itch, low beneath his skin.

“Someone you love,” Marinette repeated, and her soft, smooth voice held a twinge of navy blue in it. Adrien opened his eyes, looking up at the sky, still awash in colors. He would paint this later, he was sure of it.

“She was great,” Adrien said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and moving his eyes along the streaks of color above him. “You’d probably get along well.”

“Was great?” Marinette asked, and Adrien nodded.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.”

It was almost like he could feel Marinette’s eyes on his back, steady and gentle. “But you still love her.”

“Yeah,” Adrien said quietly, “I still love her.” His eyes moved along a streak of purple that bled into a dark blue. “I hate her a little bit, too.”

Marinette was silent.

He turned around, giving her a smile. “But you probably don’t care much about my feelings. After all, you don’t even like me.”

She held her gaze with his, and a shiver went down his spine, the itch under his skin rising up to the surface. Her bright blue eyes were sad. “I never said I didn’t like you,” she said softly, and he knew, deep in his bones, that she meant it.

It felt like-

It felt like there was something, just beneath the surface. 

It was close. 

He could almost see it, almost make out the colors.

And then she looked away. 

---

Adrien took a deep breath⁵ to steady himself. He was shaking a little bit as he reached for the door knob of his father’s study, and he took another deep breath, trying to reach for the calm and certainty he’d felt when going over to Kagami’s two nights previously.

His hand was still shaking, but he pushed open the door.

His father was sitting at his desk, back straight as he peered over some documents. He made a note on another sheet of paper before looking up at Adrien, cool gray eyes looking him up and down before finally settling on his face.

Adrien was keenly aware of the purple paint smudged on the cuff of his shirt, the wrinkles in his slacks, the lack of a tie around his neck. He clasped his hands behind his back to hide his shaking.

“Good afternoon, Father,” Adrien greeted, and he was quite proud of himself for keeping his voice strong and steady. “I apologize for interrupting you while you’re working, but there’s something I have to tell you.”

His father didn’t say anything, and Adrien took that as a sign to continue. His stomach churned, and he took another deep breath, refusing the urge to run.

“Kagami and I have broken off our engagement.” 

He watched his father place his fountain pen in its stand before folding his hands and looking back up at Adrien. “Why?” he asked, and there was a layer of steel running through the underside of the word.

Adrien had been expecting that question, so he stuck his chin up and let out his rehearsed answer. “We both decided that marriage is not what we wanted from each other. Our friendship and our future business relationship will remain intact.”

His father stared hard at him, and Adrien felt a bead of sweat run down his back. “This is about all of that soulmate nonsense,” he said, and Adrien clenched his jaw.

“It isn’t,” he said.

Straightening out the papers on his desk despite the fact that they were all in perfectly neat order, his father shook his head. “Your mother allowed you to indulge in those frivolous notions of fate and soulmates for far too long. I thought you knew better by now.”

“It isn’t about my soulmate, Father,” Adrien tried again, but his father continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“Because of all of those silly fairy tales your mother told you, you will let the business suffer for the impossible and faraway notion of being destined” - he spit out the word like it was offensive to him - “to someone you will never meet.” He paused, shaking his head. “I knew I should’ve stopped your mother from-”

“Stop talking about Mom,” Adrien interrupted, his fingers curling into fists behind him. His father squinted at him.

“I don’t think I like your tone.”

Adrien pursed his lips.

His father leaned back in his chair, unfolding his hands and tapping a finger on his desk. “You’ve learned disrespect.”

“No, Father,” Adrien said. His father watched him with his gray eyes. “I’ve learned to care about my own boundaries and my own wants.”

“So you’ve learned to be selfish instead,” his father said, and Adrien resisted the urge to laugh.

“I’ve spent nearly every day of the past few weeks working for my city, my community-”

“An activity that I never put on your schedule-”

“-and I have tried my hardest to give as much as I possibly can to the people that need what I have.” His nails were digging into the palms of his hands. “And when I have asked you for help in improving the lives of the people who are in need, you have hardly given me a cent, let alone an ounce of your time. I may be selfish in your eyes, but you are the selfish one in mine.”

His father stared at him, his expression unchanged. And then he sighed, leaning forward and picking up his fountain pen once more. “If you are quite done, I must begin writing a formal apology to Tomoe Tsurugi asking for her forgiveness and mercy in taking you back as her son-in-law.”

Burning red anger raged in his bones. He stepped forward and stopped his father’s hand with his own. “You will do no such thing.”

“You will let go of me this instant, Adrien,” his father said, voice low, and Adrien hated it. Hated the dark gray tones of his voice.

“Not until you listen to me,” he said, voice growing darker in turn. “You have never listened to me, not since before Mom got sick, and I am tired of it.” His father said nothing, and Adrien pushed on, letting the red inside of him crawl up his throat and form the right words. “I didn’t break off the engagement with Kagami because I have a soulmate - even if I didn’t have a soulmate, I still would’ve done it. Because I’ve realized that I don’t want to continue your legacy. Your legacy makes people suffer, and you turn you back on it like that’s the price you have to pay for art. But I never want to turn my back on people who are suffering just so I can live in a mansion surrounded by gold trinkets I won’t even notice go missing. I don’t want to grow up to be you - controlling and angry and bitter. I don’t want to let you bully me into an arranged marriage like your own father did. I want to live on my own terms, and I want to help people like you never have.” 

His words filled up the study, crowding around the two of them and pressing their scarlet fingers into their skin. Adrien let out a shaking breath, letting go of his father’s hand and stepping away.

“And, Father,” he said, voice quiet in all the noise still bouncing around the room, around his skull. “I am not asking for permission.”

He turned around, and he left his study.

He made it all the way to his room, shutting his door behind him, before he crouched down and cried.

His tears tasted like cold, blue relief.

---

“How did it go?” Kagami asked.

“Terrible,” Adrien said. “Great.”

She pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight in her arms. He knew she understood.

---

Adrien awoke to birds chirping⁶, his eyes opening to the soft blue light before dawn. He rolled onto his back, feeling the grass itch at his arms, and he let out a small sigh, closing his eyes once more.

After visiting Kagami the night before to tell her how it went with his father, he’d been walking back home along the Seine when he just… stopped. And he wondered. 

If he would be let back into the mansion.

If his father had spent the evening writing him out of his will.

If he even cared about those things.

And then he’d fallen asleep.

And now it was the start of a new day, and the sky and the air and everything around him was a gentle, welcoming blue.

He opened his eyes again, taking in all the blues wrapped around him, and he thought, Marinette was right.

There was a shift in the grass next to him, and he turned his head, eyes widening.

Marinette was sitting beside him - she was sitting by his waist and she was looking out at the river so he couldn’t quite see her face, but he just- he just knew. It was Marinette.

She was wearing worn overalls, the sleeves of her blush pink blouse rolled up to her elbows, the paint legs of her overalls rolled up around her ankles. Her feet were bare.

Adrien sat up, and she gave him a glance, but she didn’t say anything. He thought, distantly, that she seemed to fit so nicely in the blue of the hour.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, and he mimicked her posture, pulling his legs up to his chest and resting his elbows on his knees. “Why are you out and about at the crack of dawn?”

She leaned back, letting him see a crate with a couple of jugs of milk and a few cartons of eggs inside of it that was sitting beside her. “Supply run before the morning rush,” she said, leaning her chin on her knees.

“You don’t look like you’re in much of a rush,” he said, and she breathed out something that could’ve been a laugh.

“I have time,” she said, and then she tilted her head at him, soft blue eyes looking at him sideways. “Have you been here all night?”

For a moment, Adrien considered lying. Then he looked back out at the calm water flowing along the river, and he sighed. “Yeah, I have.”

He felt her gaze on him, as if he was some sort of puzzle she wanted to solve. He looked over at her, and she looked down at the grass. He smiled.

“You can ask, if you want,” he said, and she played with the ends of her braids, still not looking at him. “I won’t mind, I promise.”

“Only if you want to talk about it,” she finally said, dropping her braids and staring at the river.

Adrien shrugged, flopping onto his back and staring up at the blue sky. He could see hints of yellow creeping along the horizon. “I was afraid,” he said, and she laid down beside him, folding her hands over her stomach.

“Of?”

“Facing my father. We got into an argument, you see.”

She turned her head to face him. “If you need a place to stay…”

“Oh, no,” Adrien said, shaking his head. “You and your family have already done so much, I wouldn’t want to be a burden. And besides,” he said, taking a deep breath, “it’s a new day. I’m not afraid anymore.”

The sun broke over the horizon.

“I think…” Adrien started, furrowing his eyebrows. “I think I was afraid more about the person I’d become, not really about what my father would do to me.” He paused, reaching a hand up to the sky, to the soft yellows smearing in with the blue. “I’ve changed so much, and my argument with my father just proved that I have become someone so different than the person I was before. I was walking home, and it just… It just hit me that I could be whatever I wanted. That I didn’t have to follow someone else’s plan. That I could make my own plan.”

“Scary,” Marinette said, and Adrien laughed.

“Yeah. Very.”

“And exciting,” she said, and Adrien lowered his hand, turning his head to look at her.

He studied her for a moment, watching the dawn break over her face. And he wasn’t- he wasn’t exactly sure if he’d ever thought so before, but she was beautiful. Breathtakingly so.

The lines of her face were soft and smooth, and her cheeks were sprinkled with a collection of freckles. Her lips looked soft and pink, and her skin was pale, but her hair was darker than night, and her eyes… Her eyes reflected the colors of the dawn even as they held all the stars of the night.

His heart ached. He felt his insides buzz. His breath caught in his throat.

“That too,” Adrien finally said, and he realized that she hadn’t looked away from him, that she still hadn’t.

And he thought.

Maybe.

Just maybe…

“I should get back to the bakery,” she said, tearing her eyes off of him and sitting up. 

“Okay,” he said, and he would’ve offered to help her carry the crate, but she stood up and picked it up with such ease and grace that his offer would’ve been pointless. 

“Be careful on your way home,” she said, sliding her feet into her shoes. “And try not to sleep outside anymore. You were just asking to be robbed.”

Adrien let out a surprised laugh, and he saw her eyes twinkle with a smile before she hurried away.

He watched her go, wondering.

She looked back.

He raised his hand in farewell.

She nodded her head to him.

He wondered what she looked like in red.

---

The night air was thick and warm⁷, and Adrien was glad he’d persuaded Marinette to let him buy ice cream for them both. He told her they’d deserved it after helping organize a community get-together all day, and the walk back to the bakery had been hot enough for her to finally agree.

So now they were sitting on the front steps of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, ice cream in hand. His was pistachio flavored and tasted just about as green as it looked, and hers was strawberry flavored. It was a gentle pink color with chunks of strawberries in it, and Marinette seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

They weren’t talking - as how it normally went with Marinette. But their silences were always so… comfortable now. He liked that he didn’t feel pressured to speak. He liked being around her. 

He thought he might know the reason why.

“Earlier,” Marinette started, and Adrien noticed that she was already nibbling at the cone. A troubled expression passed over her face, and Adrien raised his eyebrows.

“Earlier?” he prompted, and she chewed thoughtfully on the cone. Adrien’s own ice cream was starting to melt on his hand before she spoke again.

“Alya mentioned that you and Nino are probably going to a show soon,” she said, and Adrien got the feeling that wasn’t what she’d planned to say. But he played along anyway.

“Yeah, Nino said he’s friends with the band, so he got us in for free,” Adrien said. He smiled. “He says I haven’t heard real music yet, and he’s about to blow my mind.”

Since first meeting only a week or two ago, Nino had managed to wiggle his way into being Adrien’s best friend. It was strange, but Adrien didn’t really mind it. Nino was cool.

“That sounds fun,” Marinette said, and Adrien nodded.

“I’ll be sure to let you know if I get my mind blown.”

Marinette gave him a small smile before turning back to her ice cream. Adrien tried to eat his ice cream a little faster, licking up where it had dripped onto his hand.

They were quiet for a while longer, and Marinette finished her ice cream. She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the dark sky, littered with stars.

He could see them all in her eyes, too.

As he finished up his own ice cream, she spoke again.

“Alya also said you’re not engaged anymore.” She said it softly, her blue voice tentative.

“Yeah,” Adrien said, smiling and leaning back on his hands, too. Instead of looking up at the sky, he looked at her. “Remember when you caught me sleeping in the grass like a hooligan? That was what my father and I had argued about.”

She nodded slowly. “Did you get in a fight with your fiancé?”

“Nope,” Adrien said, and she raised her eyebrows, looking over at him. “We’re actually pretty good friends.”

“So what happened?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Kagami and I were tired of having to live by our parents’ rules. We didn’t really want to get married, and…” He paused, searching her eyes. “The truth is, Marinette, I have a soulmate.”

She didn’t look surprised. Only a bit sad. “You do?”

“I do,” he said, and there was that buzz underneath his skin, that ache. “I’ve already met her, but I don’t know her real name. Not yet.”

She tilted her head at him. “Not yet?”

Adrien felt his lips curl up into a smile. “She wanted me to forget about her, but I don’t want to. I’m going to find her again.” Maybe I’ve already found her.

“Do you think she wants to be found?” Marinette asked, and he could hear it, the fear in her voice.

“Maybe not,” Adrien said, his eyes locked with hers. He was sure of it. “But there are things we have to say to each other. Things we promised to do.”

He took hold of her hand, and it was like a spark went through his whole body, setting him ablaze in lovely shades of red. Marinette sucked in a breath, and he knew. He knew it.

“Adrien,” she said, and it was there in her voice, the blues he loved. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized sooner.

“Tell me it’s you,” he said, and it was like he was begging. He leaned his forehead on her shoulder, holding her hand tightly in his hand. “Please, Marinette, tell me it’s you. Tell me you’re L-”

“Stop,” she said softly, and he did. He squeezed his eyes shut, scarlet heat forming at the back of his eyes. Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles, and he let out a shaking sigh. “Go home, Adrien.”

“Please,” he whispered, and she used her free hand to lift his face up. When he opened his eyes, he gasped.

She had taken out a leather cord that had been concealed under her blouse. And there, hanging on the cord looped around her neck, was his mother’s ring.

Before he could say anything, she was tucking the ring back under her shirt and standing up, pulling him up with her. “Go home, Adrien,” she repeated, giving his hand a squeeze, and he knew what she meant.

He brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. And then he ran.

---

Adrien moved his fingers over the piano keys⁸, trying to stop thinking and just focus on the rippling melody of the song he was playing. He was still sweating from his run, but he couldn’t afford rest. He knew he’d end up pacing anyway.

Marinette.

He squeezed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the keys.

His father would probably be mad at him for playing so loudly so late at night, but at this point, it was just another grievance added to the list.

When he finished the piece, he took a deep breath, and he started over.

Ladybug.

His fingers stumbled. He kept going.

Please be here soon.

He started over. Again and again until he knew how to make the ending bleed into the beginning without even having to pause.

And then.

There was a buzz underneath his skin.

An ache, deep in his chest.

His fingers stilled, and he opened his eyes.

She was there. In her red waistcoat and her polka-dotted socks. She had the scarlet scarf tied around the bottom half of her face. Her blue eyes, so familiar and beautiful, were steady on him.

“Please,” he said, his voice coming out as a whisper, and her eyes flicked down to her hands, covered in her gloves.

She pulled them off, tucking them into her trouser pocket. And then she looked back up at him, and she raised her bare hand, pulling down the scarf until her face was free.

“Hi, Adrien,” Marinette said, and he watched her pink lips form the words, gentle and blue.

“Marinette,” he said, and then he was standing up, striding across the room, pulling her close, wrapping her tight in his arms. And there was relief - to the ache in his chest, to the buzz under his skin. He let out something that was almost a sob, holding her closer. 

She fit so neatly into his arms.

They were made for each other.

She fisted her hands into the back of his shirt, tucking her face into his chest and laughing in such a way that Adrien knew meant she felt it too. “You said you hated me,” she said into his chest, and Adrien held her tighter.

“You ran away,” he said into her hair. 

“I was scared,” she said, pulling away from him so that she could look him in the eye. “Of what having a soulmate meant. About meeting my soulmate.” She paused, bringing her hand up to his face and tracing her thumb on his cheekbone. “With you being my soulmate, knowing that I was just a thief and the daughter of bakers, I felt like fate had played a cruel joke on me.”

“Your parents are lovely,” Adrien said, and she laughed, the sound watery and bright. “And you’re the noblest thief there is.”

“Still,” Marinette continued, her smile gentle and sad, “when you told me about your engagement, it felt like another twist of fate. Like everything was telling me that I should just leave and let you live your life without worrying about what being tied to me would mean for your future.”

“You,” Adrien said, taking her hands in his, “are absolutely ridiculous.”

She laughed, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“You are the one who made me realize that I wanted something different for my future,” he said, and he placed her hands on his chest, right above his heart. “You are my future.”

“I love you,” she said, and the words were like a shock to his system, spilling a brilliant and lovely red through his heart.

“You do?” he asked, and she nodded, her smile the color of sunrises and blue hours and music notes and roses and all of the other things he loved. 

“I love you,” she said again, and she laughed while she said it, like those words let her grasp a joy that had previously eluded her. And he laughed with her, feeling all of the colors and completeness and the love bubbling up inside of him.

“I love you, too,” he said, and she grabbed his face with one hand and pulled him down, pressing their lips together, fitting them together.

And she kissed him, her blue smile pressed against his lips.

And she kissed him, one hand still steady on his heart.

---

Adrien dug his toes in the sand⁹, watching the waves crash and tumble over each other as they reached for the shore. He took a deep breath, the salty gold of the air filling him up, and then he released it, the warm breeze ruffling its fingers through his hair.

Marinette was beside him, her legs tucked up by her chest, her chin leaning on her knees. Her hand was laced with his, and his mother’s ring glinted on her finger.

He brought their hands up to his face, and he kissed the back of her hand.

She opened her eyes, the blue of them brighter than the sky above them. And even now, with the sun out and smiling yellow down on them, he could see each one of those benevolent stars there, caught in her irises.

She stretched out her legs, smiling at him and giving his hand a squeeze. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and then she leaned her head there, sighing contentedly.

And Adrien felt, deep in his chest, that this happiness would be with him for the rest of his life.