Archive of Our Own

It lingered in the back of her mind like a dream. She couldn't forget what she had found in that other world - what she had found in her other self. But that didn't change the reality of the life that she lived now. She didn't have the hope or the love that the other her had, but she was learning. She was willing to try.

The will to try wasn't enough to make any immediate difference though. Marinette knew that as soon as she returned home, locking herself away in her room as she always did, and detransformed. The rush of thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could be something more, something brighter, faded along with her spots. Perhaps Toxinelle could change - but what about Marinette? The rejected girl living a rejected life?

She found herself reminded once again of her place in the world - or lack of - as she stood in front of her school locker. She'd considered skipping class that day. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. But if she was trying to do better, then fixing her school attendance was probably an achievable place to start. Still, as she found herself staring at the slightly dented surface of her locker, it took everything in her to not just leave.

What would it be this time? Spiders? A precariously placed bucket of paint? She didn't know what awaited her, but if Marinette knew anything it was how to prepare herself.

She looked around to make sure no one else was there. She'd made sure to at least get in a bit earlier than most of the students. That way she wouldn't have to deal with their silent stares too much.

Satisfied that she was alone, Marinette stepped closer to her locker, approaching it from the side. She slowly reached out, hesitating as her fingertips hovered next to the handle - staring at the way her hand shook. A spark of annoyance took hold of her, drowning her anxiety. She gripped the handle with more strength than necessary and yanked the door open.

Even though she wasn't in front of the locker, she still stepped back in anticipation. The door swung open with enough force to send it banging against the locker next to it. And then - nothing. Nothing fell or jumped out. What did emerge from the locker was worse.

When she had entered the locker room earlier, there had been a slight smell in the air. She'd put it down to the general musty smell of a school locker room used by teenagers, or perhaps a bin somewhere that hadn't been emptied. But now that her locker was open, the hidden source was revealed.

A vile, rancid smell hit Marinette's nose. It caused her to gag immediately, forcing her to cover her mouth and nose with her hand. The putrid stench made her nearly vomit. It was certainly enough to make her eyes water and her nose burn. As much as she hated it, she knew she had to look inside.

With at least nothing physical falling out of her locker, Marinette slowly stepped forward, keeping her hand over her nose. With a sickening sense of trepidation, she carefully scanned the inside. There on the floor of her locker and shoved into the corner was... something. She was forced to hold her breath as she studied the mouldy piece of whatever it was. It must have been food - or at least had been food. Some kind of sandwich, perhaps.

Marinette knew she hadn't been the one to leave it there. It definitely hadn't been there when she had last dragged herself into school a few days ago. The culprit was already clear in her mind though. There really was only one person who would do such a thing.

Chloe Bourgeois. The Queen Bitch.

She must have had Sabrina or some other willing lapdog put the food in Marinette's locker. And judging by the already advanced state of decay, it definitely hadn't been fresh when it was left there. Adding on the few days Marinette had skipped school, the thing had festered within the confines of her locker.

Marinette resisted the urge to slam the door shut again. She knew that if she ignored it, she would be the one to face the consequences for it being there. The last time Chloe had dumped a tuna pasta salad into Marinette's locker, it was Marinette who'd gotten written up for keeping “unhygienic conditions”.

Doing her best to not breathe through her nose, Marinette grimaced as she started to dig through her bag. Breathing through her mouth was only marginally better, though. The air itself tasted rancid.

Once she found the pack of tissues she kept somewhere at the bottom of her bag, she pulled out a whole cluster of them. Kneeling down, she carefully started to wrap up the offending slab of rot. All the while, she had to keep swallowing back the urge to gag, vomit, or both.

Unfortunately, just removing the spoiled food wasn't enough. Even after having extracted it and thrown it into the depths of the nearest bin, Marinette's locker still reeked. No doubt the few textbooks she had in there did too. It didn't take much to weigh her options. She much preferred the thought of going to class without her books than carrying that stink with her all day.

Leaving her locker open, Marinette made a beeline for the bathroom to wash her hands. She didn't have anything to clean it with, so airing it out would just have to do for now. The school would still probably scold her, but at least they wouldn't be able to directly accuse her of keeping rotten food in her locker. She could at least clean her hands though. After washing them three times, she was mostly sure that she was free of anything gross. However, her cleanliness did little to help the sinking feeling in her stomach as she left the bathroom.

The school was slowly waking up as Marinette entered the courtyard. More students were starting to arrive - and with the increase of people, she grew steadily more self conscious. She moved along the wall, hoping to stay out of the way and out of sight. Perhaps she would be able to head straight up to the classroom without any interference.

But it seemed that her luck was determined to remain awful. Just as she turned to retreat up the stairs, she was met by someone else coming down them.

“Do you smell something, Sabrina?” Chloe sneered as she delicately placed her hand over her nose. “It smells like a dead rat crawled out of the garbage!”

Sabrina didn't say anything, but she did smile like Chloe had made a joke that was actually funny for once.

Marinette glared up at the other girls. They were effectively blocking her way, leaving her to debate whether she should shove past them or walk across the courtyard to the other staircase. Even though she didn't like putting herself in the open like that, she decided that the latter option was the better one.

Without saying a word, Marinette turned on her heel and started to make her way to the other set of stairs. For a moment, she almost thought that Chloe was just going to let her go. But as always, that was never going to be the case.

Just as Marinette had reached the middle of the courtyard, something caught her ankle. She fell to the ground in a crash, her bag falling off her shoulder and scattering its contents across the ground. Marinette didn't need to look up to know that Chloe had been the cause - that, or Sabrina at Chloe's command. Gritting her teeth, Marinette remained stone-faced as she slowly lifted herself up. A slight sting jolted through her leg, and upon further inspection she found a new tear in her jeans, exposing her knee and the fresh scratches that marked her skin.

“Poor, clumsy Marinette!” Chloe taunted. “Did you trip over those utterly ridiculous, ugly boots of yours?”

Ignoring the ache of her knee, Marinette knelt where she was and turned her focus on methodically gathering her things. But even though she kept her head down and allowed her bangs to obscure her vision, she could still feel everyone looking at her. She could feel the exposure of her sitting in the middle of the school courtyard, looking like some clumsy freak in plain view. It was one of Chloe's favourite things to do after all - embarrassingMarinette in front of everyone .

Marinette continued to slowly gather her things, silently cursing everyone and everything around her. Sure, she'd made the promise to her other self to try again - but what was the point when it felt like everything was pushing her back at every turn?

She was about to reach for her sketchbook when Chloe sailed past, stomping on the book and almost knocking Marinette over again in the process.

“Oh my god, you actually came!” Chloe squealed as she rushed across the courtyard, shoving various people aside as she went. “Out of the way, low-lifes!”

Marinette didn't care to see what new thing had taken Chloe's attention. She was just glad to be left alone and that hopefully everyone's attention was no longer on her. But as Chloe continued to prattle on, the next thing she said had Marinette looking up in an instant.

“I'm so glad you're here, Adrien! Things will be much more interesting with you around!”

Marinette's head snapped up at the mention of his name, her eyes darting towards the school's entrance. Sure enough, there he was. Adrien Agreste was currently walking into the courtyard of their collège. With his hands in his pockets and a dour look on his face, he looked anything but happy to be there. Actually, he looked disinterested at best. It was when Chloe latched herself onto his arm that he really looked unhappy.

“I'm going to teach you how to get the best out of this bland and boring school!” Chloe said matter-of-factly as she half dragged Adrien with her back across the courtyard. “You'll be fine as long as you stick with me.”

Marinette felt frozen. She was still stupidly sitting on the ground with half her stuff spilled around her - and yet all she could do was stare at Adrien. In her mind she could see a flicker of Griffe Noire overlapping the image of Adrien before her. It was a little hard to connect Adrien's surly expression with Griffe's cocky one, but if she squinted she could kind of see it. It really helped that she had literally seen him detransform before her very eyes - otherwise she would never have believed it.

Marinette kept staring in a bug-eyed daze, only snapping out of it when Adrien's eyes moved toward her. She flinched, remembering her current state on the floor. As soon as he was looking her way, she put her head down and returned to snatching up the rest of her belongings.

For some reason, knowing that Adrien had seen her in such a state made everything worse. It was at least ten times more embarrassing. She felt like crying. She never cried in front of others. She hated it.

“Wha - Where are you going?!” Chloe's shrill voice gasped.

Marinette ignored it. She'd almost gathered all her things and was planning to leave immediately. Maybe she'd just head home. Or maybe she would go somewhere to transform and hang out around the city. She just wanted to be anywhere that wasn't school at that moment. But as she reached for her sketchbook once again, someone else beat her to it. She tensed, staring at the hand lifting the book before she slowly tilted her gaze upwards.

Adrien knelt before her. His expression was stoic at first, but when he met her eye, his features softened with a small smile. Marinette automatically glared back at him with a venomous intensity that should have sent anyone running. But Adrien didn't turn away. He just stayed where he was, looking at her with his green eyes gleaming. The dark kohl that lined them only seemed to make his eyes shine even brighter. She could almost see Griffe Noire's reformed self then - stunning green eyes bordered by a black mask.

“Hey,” he said softly, holding out the book to her.

Marinette scowled in response, ignoring the way her heart was thudding. She snatched the sketchbook and proceeded to stuff it into her bag. “Back up, Fleabag. You're in my space.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Easy, Cockroach - um - Marinette.”

The sound of her name in his voice sent a weird thrill up her spine.

“You can ignore that one,” Chloe sneered as she strutted up to them. She placed a hand on her cocked hip and made a dismissive gesture towards Marinette. “You wouldn't want her freakish weirdness to rub off on you.”

“I'm fine with that,” Adrien answered, his gaze never leaving Marinette for even a second.

He gently took hold of Marinette's arm, drawing her up with him as he went to stand. Marinette stubbornly tried to resist it at first, but his strong and steady grip didn't relent. The way he pulled her wasn't harsh or painful, but she swore the warmth of his hand pressing through her sleeve was going to make her combust.

Once she had stumbled to her feet, Marinette became rooted to the spot. She didn't know what to do in this situation. Clutching her bag to her chest, she turned her head to the side and let her bangs obscure her vision once more. The nervous fluctuations of her heart were becoming unbearable.

“Puh-lease!" Chloe enunciated with snobbish disgust. “Even the normal common rabble isn't fit to be around people like us, Adrien. And Dupain-Cheng here is even lower than that. She's not even good enough to be on the underside of my shoe.”

Marinette felt Adrien's hand stiffen where he still held her arm. Despite her uncertainty, she chanced a look at him. He was no longer looking at her, having turned his attention on Chloe. For a moment, Marinette thought she was looking at Griffe Noire - not the revitalised version of him who had sworn to do better alongside her, but his old self. The glare in his eye was vicious, and if he had his claws out Marinette didn't doubt he would have used them in that moment.

“Back off, Chloe,” Adrien growled. “You're acting way too close for someone who's barely even talked to me in years.”

Chloe at least had the awareness to look a little put off by his biting comment. “W-Well, we've both just been so busy .”

Her excuse just seemed to aggravate him more. His glare darkened, making Marinette think he might really start causing grievous bodily harm - claws or not.

But then he took a short breath, his expression fading to mild disinterest once more. Before anything further could be said, Adrien started to walk away. It wasn't until Marinette found herself being pulled with him that she realised he was still holding onto her for some reason. If she had any presence of mind left, she would have removed herself and told him to leave her alone. But her mind was blank and her heart was pounding. Left in a stupor, she blindly followed Adrien as he led her up the stairs and away from a frustrated Chloe.

They walked together in silence. Marinette had no idea where Adrien was taking her, as she was too busy trying to reboot her brain. Some sense only started to return to her when they entered one of the classrooms and Adrien closed the door behind them.

Marinette looked around and immediately recognised which room they'd ended up in. It was the art room. Her eyes scanned over the paint-splattered floor and the walls that were absolutely plastered with posters and canvases. There were some ongoing projects set out, and Marinette half-wondered who they belonged to. As she took in the creative space overflowing in vibrancy and colour, she felt that empty space in herself ache a little more.

She'd used to spend time here. Used to.

Now that it was just the two of them, Marinette felt wary. While things between them were... better than they'd been before, her relationship with Griffe Noire remained uncertain. As for Adrien, he was still largely unknown to her. She'd expected Griffe's cocky attitude, but what she was seeing now wasn't that at all.

Adrien had dropped her arm when they'd entered the room before scooting a few steps away. It was weird watching him. He stayed partly turned away from her, feigning interest in the room before not-so subtly glancing back at her and looking away again. He picked up a pencil holder from a desk, pretended to study it for half a second, then put it back down. Only, he somehow messed up putting it down as it fell from his hand, sending pencils scattering over the desk in a cacophonous crash.

Absolutely baffled, Marinette continued to watch him. Adrien scrambled to collect the pencils, shooting quick glances at her every other second as he clumsily shoved the pencils back into the holder before very carefully setting it upright on the desk once more.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, electing to ignore his behaviour, narrowing her eyes in suspicion as she crossed her arms.

Adrien stood up straight, blinking as his own gaze skittered around. “It's a school day,” he answered. “I'm here for class.”

Scowling, she slowly stepped forwards. “But you don't go here.”

Adrien's posture became rigid, his eyes flashing towards her as she encroached on his space. “I do now.”

Marinette stared up at him. She knew how to deal with Griffe's taunting smirk, but Adrien was looking at her with wide eyes and a tight mouth. He'd become a cat in the headlights.

“Breathe, Fleabag,” she prompted him.

Adrien gave the tiniest smile as a nervous laugh escaped him.

“So, what, you changed schools?” Marinette asked as she stepped past him, looking around the room once more.

“Not-” he murmured quietly, his breath hitching, “-not exactly.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, arching her eyebrow.

Adrien withered under her casual expectation. “I'm homeschooled. Or at least I was homeschooled.”

Marinette snorted. “I should have guessed that Paris's favourite fancy sweetheart stayed in his ivory tower.”

Surprisingly, Adrien bristled at her comment. “It's not like I wanted to stay there,” he hissed, his voice taking on an edge more reminiscent of Griffe Noire.

Having wandered close to a window, Marinette came to a stop. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there was a piece of her still itching to transform and get out of there. “So you wanted to mingle with the common folk?” she scoffed. “I had no idea you were such a noble fleabag.”

Adrien went silent then. It was strange. She was used to Griffe biting back. He always gave as good as he got - it was just how it was between them. Or how it had been, anyway.

The uncomfortable knot in her chest tightened. Despite her promise, she was being bitter again. And because she simply couldn't keep it to herself, she was inflicting that venom on the only other person nearby - the only other person who had ever stayed nearby all this time.

Griffe Noire had always been able to take a bit of her venom. Except right now they weren't Toxinelle and Griffe Noire. They weren't two vindictive villains hurling insults at each other with their constant bickering. They were just two kids struggling to carry the thorns they held inside.

While Marinette knew her own wounds intimately, she wasn’t sure what barbs had cut Adrien so deeply.

Her tongue felt clumsy in her mouth. “Sorry.”

“S'okay,” Adrien murmured. “It's not the first time people made assumptions about me.”

Assumptions. Marinette hated that word as well. People had made plenty about her too.

An awkward silence settled across the room, the only noise being the distant hum of traffic from outside. Marinette stared at her shoes, forcing herself to only watch Adrien out of the corner of her eye.  He walked around a bit as though to inspect the art room further - but every now and then he'd look towards her as though to say something, only to close his mouth and turn away again.

Marinette suppressed a smile. It wasn't often that she got to see Griffe at a loss for words, so this was amusing. While the facial expression was different - Adrien just looked a little lost and bewildered instead of wearing Griffe's petulant pout - the body language was the same. The way he shuffled his feet. The way he rubbed his neck. Even the slight incline of his head when he turned, as though he didn't want to face her fully.

But every now and then, their eyes would catch. Holding each other’s gaze had always been a stubborn act of wills between Toxinelle and Griffe Noire, but now they couldn’t look away fast enough. And it kept happening - a flicker of green meeting a flash of blue, only for them to dart away again. But their gaze was caught in each other’s orbit, and it was inevitable that they would steal another glance.

It was stupid and Marinette hated her own silliness for it. And yet she found herself doing it over and over. The tension and her frustration must have been getting to her, as she could once more feel the quickened pulse of her heart. The beat was too loud in her ears and the feeling quaked uncomfortably against her ribs.

Their eyes met once more with a silently held breath.

They both looked away with a careful exhale.

”Your knee…” Adrien murmured, his soft voice finally shattering the silent space they’d fallen into.

Marinette wore her confusion as a scowl. Adrien chewed his lip, his brow furrowed slightly. His strange apprehension made her look down at her leg. It took her a second to recognise the angry scrapes on her knee, redder than they had been before. There was blood. She’d grown used to the faint sting of it and so had completely forgotten that she’d hurt herself when she fell.

Adrien approached her, practically falling over himself as he landed on his knees in front of her. ”You’re bleeding…” The concern in his voice was dreadfully disarming.

“What are you doing?” Marinette hissed, leaning as far away as the wall behind her would allow.

Adrien froze, his hands hovering awkwardly in an attempt to reach out to her. “I, um…” he mumbled. His eyes broke away from her knee, only for him to look up and down her leg. A blush burned across his face, fierce enough to even tint the top of his ears. He pressed his fists to his thighs and stared at them instead. “You’re hurt… We should get that cleaned up.”

“What? No, it’s fine-” Marinette started, but he was already moving.

Adrien sped over to the large sink that occupied a corner of the room. He grabbed a wad of paper towels and hastily dampened them under the tap before quickly heading back to her.

“I can do that myself!” Marinette protested, trying to hide her slight embarrassment with anger.

Adrien frowned. “Are you going to go to the nurse’s office?”

Marinette sagged against the wall. The simple question left her feeling cornered. “No…”

“I didn’t think so,” he murmured as he knelt down before her once more.

Pressing her lips in a slight pout, Marinette watched the top of his head as Adrien carefully looked at her scrapes. The soft lighting of the room settled in his hair like a halo. She might have laughed at the ridiculous image it brought to her mind, but all her words died with a shiver as she felt his fingertips brush against her skin. He was carefully peeling back the torn denim of her jeans, taking extra care to be gentle where the blood held the fabric to her wound. She hadn't known he could be so gentle.

“Ah!” Marinette gasped as Adrien pressed the damp paper towel to her knee.

He recoiled immediately. “Sorry.” He looked up at her with a wince. “Does it hurt?”

It had stung a bit, but Marinette had too much pride to admit it. “No,” she muttered petulantly. “It’s just cold.”

Adrien smiled softly and returned to tenderly dabbing the paper towel over her knee.

Marinette was used to her feelings being a mess. It was why she preferred to keep them pushed down and only let the anger and the spite bubble to the surface. But at the moment she couldn’t find any reason to be angry. She felt embarrassed and awkward, sure. But it wasn’t enough to make her shout or push him away. Perhaps she wasn’t hating his presence or attention as much as she had tried to convince herself she did.

That didn’t stop her from being afraid though. She wasn’t used to people being gentle or kind - especially when it came to someone Marinette had shared a tumultuous history with. Maybe Griffe Noire - maybe Adrien - was taking to change a lot easier than she was.

She couldn’t help but feel jealous over that.

“We should put a bandaid over it,” Adrien said as he inspected her now-clean scratches.

Marinette huffed. His concern was starting to overwhelm her. “I have some in my bag,” she muttered, inadvertently shoving Adrien as she stepped past him.

For a split second she thought he would snap at her - at least she was used to Griffe Noire snapping at Toxinelle over even less. She’d even tensed herself in preparation for it, but again to her surprise Adrien said nothing. With no growl or bite given, he wordlessly stood up once she’d moved away. Her frustration and embarrassment took on a new edge, one that cut her deep in a new way: Shame.

Dropping her bag in a desk with more force than necessary, Marinette started to rummage through the contents. Her bag wasn’t particularly organised even on the best of days, but after the encounter with Chloe it looked like a crime scene for stationery. Marinette knew she kept a box of bandaids in her bag though, so she set about digging through her stuff to find it.

All the while, she could keenly feel Adrien’s presence close to her. Somehow he seemed to radiate an air of calmness, but the sting of guilt in her gut prevented Marinette from even glancing at him.

The minutes passed - and Marinette’s searching of her bag slowly became more frantic.

“I know I…” she muttered to herself before emptying her bag onto the table directly. There should have been a half-used box of bandaids in the clutter somewhere. Either it had spontaneously turned invisible, or it was no longer among her belongings.

“Is everything okay?” Adrien asked. It was strange to hear Griffe Noire’s voice sound so soft and almost genuine.

“I can’t find them,” Marinette responded childishly. Her supply of bandaids must have fallen out of her bag earlier along with everything else. Somehow she must have missed it when she collected everything again.

She heard Adrien shuffle his feet. Marinette was certain if she turned round she would be met with Griffe’s stupid smug grin.

But his voice was far too soft to match the image in her head. “Would you be okay using mine?”

“What?” Marinette blurted out, finally turning to look at him.

Adrien didn’t meet her gaze. Instead he was focused on looking through his satchel. Compared to Marinette’s chaotic and near aggressive search of her own bag, Adrien’s movements were calm and precise. He clearly knew where everything in his bag was.

“Here,” he said, pulling out a small box from his bag. He paused with a sheepish smile as he held the box towards her. “They’re hypoallergenic ones - if that’s okay.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow as she took the box from him. Indeed the words ‘sensitive skin’ and ‘hypoallergenic’ were branded across the packaging. “You have allergies or something?”

“No,” he answered, before quickly adding, “a-at least not to this kind of stuff, I think. Nathalie just wants me to be careful is all.”

Marinette had no idea who Nathalie was and wasn’t really interested in asking. She supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that the precious son of some stupidly rich family would be treated like glass over the smallest things. Marinette knew Griffe Noire though, and Griffe Noire certainly didn’t act like some rich kid that the gentlest of breezes could knock over or distress. Chloe was exactly that, but if Adrien truly was anything like his alter ego, then he was made of sterner stuff.

But as Marinette peered into the box, she found it half empty. The box itself was still in excellent condition, so even if Adrien was as neat as he seemed to be, chances were the box had only been opened recently.

A sickening stone sunk to the bottom of Marinette’s stomach. She knew exactly why Adrien would have gone through so many bandaids - because she was the same. Toxinelle had always been just as reckless as Griffe Noire - but where Toxinelle walked that fine tightrope of control, Griffe dove headfirst into the fray just because he could.

Her eyes drifted up to his chest. She could almost see the shattered outlines of the Cataclysm he’d so readily taken in his unwrinkled and unblemished shirt. For as many scars and fractures she’d given herself, Marinette knew Griffe had just as many, if not more.

“How can you be like this?” she found herself asking. The quietness of her voice felt foreign in her throat.

Adrien blinked owlishly. “Like what?”

“Like - like this!” Marinette snapped, vaguely gesturing at him. “How can you be so nice after everything? After everything that we did! All the chaos and the mayhem and the - and the grief we caused! Just because we saw what another life could have been doesn’t mean we get to have that!”

Adrien opened his mouth to say something, but there was nothing to stop the bitter torrent that overwhelmed Marinette now. She was being poisonous again, but she couldn’t stop it. With tears stinging her eyes and her throat turning raw, the words kept coming. “Didn’t it hurt? Didn’t you feel it? I know you had the marks too! You tried to cover it all with your stupid designer makeup, but they were still there! Did you forget them so easily?

“Because the rest of the world hasn’t! Just because we thought we might be able to change, doesn’t mean the rest of the world thinks we can! You can turn up here with a stupid smile on your face like we’re suddenly normal - but not everyone gets to start over! I don’t get to start over! The world is just as shit today as it was yesterday and tomorrow will be the same!”

Marinette panted for breath now that all her vitriol had been exposed. Faintly, she could feel the dampness of her cheeks - but she refused to believe that she had been brought to tears. Not when Adrien stood before her, his expression carefully measured in that familiar way when Griffe Noire would calmly calculate his next move. Marinette had always found it eerie, how still and quiet he could be at times.

Surely this time, she had bitten too deep. Maybe Adrien would finally bite her back in that way only Griffe Noire could. He didn’t have the fangs of his transformation,  but such a minor detail wouldn’t have stopped him before. Or perhaps he had finally grown tired of her pathetic display and would simply walk away. She was always waiting for him to walk away.

But Griffe Noire had never walked away from her. And Adrien was proving to be the same.

The tense silence was broken by Adrien’s soft sigh. He stepped forwards, once again moving into her space. Somehow this response was more terrifying than what Marinette had expected, but with the desk behind her she couldn’t back away.

“It did hurt. And it still kind of does.” He didn’t meet her eye as he spoke softly. Without claws drawn, he gently pried the box of bandaids from Marinette’s hand. She hadn’t realised she’d been crushing the once pristine box in her trembling grip. “I’d gotten used to the pain,” he continued, his gaze still averted. “I’d gotten used to being unable to sleep most nights because there were times I couldn’t take it. But I still didn’t stop chasing it. It felt real and I found some sick, twisted comfort in that. It felt different from…from everything else.”

Marinette’s breath wavered in her chest. The touch of his fingers against her hand came like an electric shock, but quickly settled as a pleasant warmth. The small point of contact was soothing against the sickness that writhed in her stomach and the pounding of her head. She found herself missing it as he pulled away, taking the bandaids from her shaking fingers.

“We have caused a lot of grief,” Adrien admitted somberly, “but grief is…it's not immovable. We can’t erase it, but we can make space for it. It can’t be forgotten - and maybe that’s a good thing - but there are things that can be forgiven. Not everything. But some things.” He paused, squeezing his eyes shut. “There are things I might not be able to forgive. And there are things I don’t want to forget. But I don’t want to stay in that place between them where it feels like not a single day matters and I’m just waiting for it all to crush me.”

Marinette’s heart clenched harshly, pulling her chest in so tight she thought her ribs might snap. As eloquently as he spoke, Marinette understood the rawness beneath Adrien’s words. It was a pain she knew herself all too well - a pain that lingered long after the scars were healed.

“But,” Adrien said, taking a shaky breath, “at least we can take on this shitty world together, right?” He opened his eyes again with a small smile. “We’ve put up with each other for this long, might as well see it through together. Only this time we’ll try to do it differently. You and me.”

Marinette found herself locked into his calming green gaze. For the first time since they’d returned to their own world, she felt a little bit of new hope take root. She could recognise it as the same feeling her other self had given her, only now it was Adrien’s words that were reassuring her. That debilitating loneliness that had always suffocated her seemed to ebb away, even if just a little bit.

Lips trembling, Marinette opened her mouth to say something. Maybe she should admit that she held some affection for him after all, or thank him for his patience.

“When did you get so corny?” she muttered instead.

Adrien huffed a small laugh as he ducked his head. “Maybe that lame version of me rubbed off a little too much.”

I don’t mind it, Marinette wanted to say, but the words caught on her tongue.

Thankfully, Adrien didn’t seem to notice. He’d turned his attention back to the slightly mangled box in his hand and was carefully trying to tug a bandaid out. Before Marinette could question it, Adrien knelt down in front of her once again. He’d peeled the bandaid from its package and his hand was moving to gently cup the back of her calf.

Marinette’s entire body seized up, freezing her in place. Suddenly, all she could feel was the gentle hold he had on her leg as he lifted her knee slightly towards him. A shiver trembled up and down her spine as he put the bandaid in place.

He smoothed it over the worst of her scratches, his long fingers delicately brushing over her skin a few times to make sure it was secure. It was a small thing - and yet the touch ignited a fuse in her, causing a brilliant burn to travel from her knee all the way up through her body until it bloomed into a fierce red in her cheeks.

The flush of her face felt so aggressive that she couldn’t stop herself from snapping, “Are you done coddling me? Or do you want to kiss it better too?”

Adrien peered up at her, making the burning of her cheeks even worse. “Do you want me to?”

Yes.

The word floated up in her mind before she could fully process it. Thankfully, Marinette’s voice once again failed her, giving her enough time to collect herself before she really said something stupid. “Fleabag,” she hissed instead, planting her hand on his face as she pushed him away.

Adrien seemed to take her half-hearted aggression in good humour, as he gave an airy chuckle. His green eyes flashed with a slight mischief, so like Griffe Noire and yet completely different. There was no irritation or mockery in his gaze, just something that was strange and unfamiliar to Marinette. Was it fondness? Whatever it was, it gave more warmth to that glimmer of comfort in her chest.

Marinette’s eyes followed Adrien as he stood up. A small smile lingered in his features as he shyly ducked his head, turning his own attention to putting the box of bandaids back in his bag.

A sudden wave of nervousness surged up within Marinette, but she swallowed it back. “Thank you,” she breathed. The words felt clumsy and unfamiliar on her tongue, but better than the bitterness she was used to.

Adrien’s eyes flashed towards her in surprise. She couldn't blame him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d expressed gratitude to anyone, let alone to the ‘partner’ with whom she’d done nothing but bicker since they’d met.

Marinette thought she saw a faint pink in his cheeks as Adrien briefly glanced away. When he looked back at her, that slight mischief had returned to his eyes.

“If not a kiss,” he said, “then how about your phone number?”

Marinette instantly became wary. “You want my number?“

Adrien seemed to quickly shy away from his own question. He gave a vague shrug before offering a more affirmative nod.

“Why?” she pressed. He started to fidget with his hands before shoving them in his pockets.

“So we can keep in contact?“

“We can do that through our Miraculous now.”

“We can. But only when transformed.”

Oh. Marinette hadn't thought that much about it. She figured it made sense considering she actually needed her yo-yo to send any calls or messages.

“Here,” Adrien said as he searched his pocket, “we can put our details into each other's phones.”

He wanted her to hand her phone over? Marinette frowned at the thought.

Adrien must have recognised her trepidation. He stopped what he was doing completely. “You don’t have to give me your number if you don’t want to.”

Marinette chewed her lip. His reasoning had made sense. Things would probably be easier if they were able to contact each other outside of being transformed.

She gave an awkward nod. ”It’s okay.”

Adrien smiled at her and took out his phone. Marinette hesitantly copied him. Her gaze flickered between the object and Adrien as he started doing something on his own phone - bringing up his contacts, she assumed. Marinette pressed her lips together as she looked back at her partially cracked screen of her own - a favour from Chloe.

Her movements felt clumsy as she unlocked her phone and brought up her contacts. There were only a handful of names listed. They were all family. Could she really show him her phone and let him see its sorry state? It was laughable that she didn't have a single contact that she wasn't related to. The anxiety that suddenly swelled up within her was overwhelming. She didn't want anyone to know what a pathetic person she was.

Marinette flinched as something came towards her. She tentatively looked up, finding Adrien holding his phone out to her. It was clearly a recent model with not a single scratch on its surface. For a moment she wanted to tell him to forget it, but instead she found herself taking it.

Marinette's eyes widened at what she saw. There were only three contacts: Gabriel Agreste, Nathalie Sancoeur, and someone named ‘Gorilla’. He had the same number of contacts as her, except she wasn't sure if they were even all his family. Gabriel Agreste was obviously his father, but the other two she didn't know.

Marinette chewed her lip as she peered up at Adrien from behind her bangs. He didn't have his hand out expecting her to reciprocate or anything of the sort. He was just sitting there, patiently waiting. After turning it around in her head, she decided this was a chance she was willing to take. Gingerly, she offered her phone to him. Adrien accepted it with a gentle smile.

They added their number to each other’s phones in silence. Normally Marinette hated silence, but something about this didn’t feel so bad after all. Maybe it was because this silence was a shared one. For once, she wasn’t alone.

She held her breath as they swapped their phones back. The brief touch of Adrien’s fingers next to hers caused her nerves to vibrate once again. Only this time, she was quickly distracted by Adrien’s bright smile as he stared at his phone, taking in the newly added number. The way his eyes had lit up and become rounded reminded Marinette of a kitten. It was kind of cute.

Marinette restrained her laugh behind a smirk. “You know, I'm starting to understand what the other me said about you.”

Adrien's posture stiffened as he blinked at her with wide eyes. “She said something about me?”

“Well, not you you. The other you.” Marinette waved her hand with a shrug. “She said her black cat was just a house cat. No more than a kitten, really. Her minou.” Feeling her own confidence returning, she straightened herself to stand a little taller. She looked Adrien up and down. “I'm starting to think that my mangy fleabag has got some kitten in him too.”

“Yours...” Adrien whispered as a dusky pink flooded his cheeks. He jolted before awkwardly clearing his throat and looking away. “You're not so bad yourself.”

Marinette could have laughed out loud at his reaction. She definitely would have before, but she found herself falling quiet now. She just smiled to herself as she studied the profile of his face, still pink and flustered as he tried to look anywhere other than her. Maybe she could still tease him after all.

“Marinette,” Adrien said suddenly, interrupting her thoughts. The careful way in which he said her name sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. “You know,” he continued as his eyes slowly met her gaze, “I’ve always-”

Whatever Adrien had meant to say was drowned out by the school bell ringing. He jolted as though someone had dropped an ice cube down the back of his shirt. Marinette smiled. He really hadn’t been in a school before.

“What’s that for?” Adrien asked, his tone somewhere between nervousness and curiosity.

Marinette waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just the class bell.”

Adrien cocked his head. “Class bell? So class is starting soon?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Then we should go!”

“We don’t- hwah?!” Marinette let out a surprised squawk as Adrien grabbed her hand and started to enthusiastically lead her out of the room. She didn’t have enough time to be embarrassed by the noise she made, only just managing to grab her bag as she was pulled along.

“Where do we go?” Adrien asked as they stepped out onto the upstairs walkway. His head whipped around as he scanned the school with bright, curious eyes.

“Class sucks,” Marinette groaned. “Why do you even want to go?”

Adrien looked over his shoulder at her, his enthusiasm quickly becoming muted by her sour response. The way his excitement cooled so rapidly left Marinette feeling guilty.

Abruptly releasing his hold of her arm and shoving his hands in his pockets, Adrien turned away with a shrug. “I’ve never been to school before. I wanted to see it, I guess. It took a lot of convincing to get Nathalie to enrol me.”

There was that name again - Nathalie. It had been in his contacts too. It struck Marinette as a little odd that it wasn’t a parent dealing with this sort of thing. But as she considered it, she did remember hearing something about Gabriel Agreste’s wife - Adrien’s mother - passing away.

The realisation added another layer to Marinette’s uncomfortable guilt. Adrien was already trying so hard to make what changes he could for himself. He was already working to fulfil the promise they’d made.

But what about Marinette? She’d dug her heels in and was ready to turn her back on everything again so quickly. Where Adrien had been trying to break away from his isolation, Marinette had been willing to resign herself to it all over again.

What was it her other self had said? That she could decide to change how she saw the world around her?

Marinette tentatively peeked at the profile of Adrien’s face. He was watching the last remaining students make their way to their classrooms, completely unaware of her observing him. The fact that he was Griffe Noire had now settled in her mind. She could clearly see the familiar features of her partner before her.

Yes. Her partner.

Marinette wasn’t alone. She didn’t have to change or fix everything by herself. Adrien was willing to bear it all with her.

And maybe the whole world didn’t have to be the whole world. Maybe it could be a familiar person in a familiar place for her.

Griffe Noir had already been a constant presence in her life. She was quickly finding she wanted the same from Adrien. And if he was capable of trying to change, then maybe she could be too.

Taking a breath to steady herself against the nervous thrum of her heart, Marinette gingerly grasped Adrien’s hand. He turned to her immediately, eyes wide with silent questioning.

“Come on,” she said softly, a slight smile coming to her lips. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” he echoed awkwardly.

“To class. We can go together.” She paused, recalling his previous words. “You and me.”

Adrien’s confusion melted away. The immediate relief glowing in his eyes told Marinette that he’d been hiding his anxiety. She gave his hand a squeeze, enjoying the way a slight rosiness came to his cheeks.

Marinette had always despised how fragile the world made her feel. She hated feeling so weak and brittle. But the careful and gentle way in which Adrien squeezed her hand back made her feel none of that. It made her feel precious. It made her feel wanted. And it made her heart bloom in ways she’d never thought possible.