(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Chapter Text

Marinette closes her eyes and chokes back the yell threatening to claw out of her throat.

Deep breaths. In. Out.

Inner peace.

Rainbows. Puppies. Sunshine. She conjures the mental image of adorable hamsters frolicking in a lush meadow, and clings to it.

But the excited chatter emanating from the other side of the room still reaches her ears, the sound digging in like talons, piercing and scratching, the hurt radiating all the way to her chest. Rose’s excited squeals bleed into Kim’s booming baritone, yet no matter the pitch, they all speak with the same voice.

Tell us more, Lila.

Why?

Why can’t they see the lies?

Hands balling into fists in her lap, Marinette swallows the bitterness.

In. Out.

Inner peace.

The high road is a lonely place to be.

Well. Not entirely lonely.

She opens her eyes, seeking a familiar green. Adrien is not among those huddling around that awful witch of a stupid liar, and neither is Nino, the two of them wrapped up in their own conversation. A mischievous grin curves Adrien’s lips as he leans forward to say something, and Nino half-groans, half-chuckles.

Adrien’s laughter rings out, and Marinette sighs at its perfection.

He must have noticed her scrutiny because his gaze meets hers and his expression softens. Raising his chin toward the group gathered around Lila, he almost imperceptibly rolls his eyes. A secret message meant only for her.

You’re not alone. I see it, too. We’re in this together.

Marinette nods so furiously her pigtails bounce on her shoulder, heart drumming against her chest in a wild and beautiful rhythm. Adrien’s answering smile is warmer than the sunlight streaming in through the window. The world grows a little less radiant when he turns back to face Nino.

This morning, she almost had a conversation with him. Three entire sentences without tripping over her words – or her feet.

There’s intimacy in shared secrets.

And in shared enemies.

Yet as much as she’s longed for the day that Adrien would finally start noticing her, she almost wishes things would go back to the way they used to be.

She wanted to be closer to Adrien, yes. But not at the cost of her friends.

Marinette throws yet another glare at the people eagerly devouring every word spilled from lying lips.

Inner peace.

Taking the high road.

It doesn’t feel like the high road. In fact, following Adrien’s advice rather distinctly feels like she’s betraying her principles.

What Lila is doing to people is wrong.

No. Evil.

Where’s the justice in just standing by and watching it happen?

Marinette is supposed to guard people from evil. That’s her duty as a hero. These are her friends, and she’s leaving them to the manipulations of a liar.

And yet…

What can she do when nobody is willing to believe her? When her word holds no worth? When all her attempts to set things right only earn her scorn from the very people she’s trying to protect? Anger bubbles in her belly as humiliating memories flash through her mind.

Deep breaths. In. Out.

She shoves the dull hurt away as best as she can. There is no point in dwelling on it.

Adrien is right. Publicly humiliating Lila will solve nothing. Trying that has already backfired spectacularly.

So Marinette will lay low. Be patient. Defense instead of offense. Sooner or later, the ludicrous lies will start unraveling all on their own, and then she’ll be vindicated.

Right?

✧✦✧

“There you are.”

Marinette’s head snaps up, a strangled squeak escaping her at the sight of Adrien’s gentle smile. The air grows thin as he sits down next to her, and she fights not to hyperventilate.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says.

“Y-you have?” She clutches her sketchbook to her chest, gripping it so hard her knuckles turn white. Is this a dream? Did she fall asleep during physics class again?

“Yeah, you left the cafeteria in such a hurry.” He pauses, weighing his words. “I was wondering if everything’s okay.”

“Oh! N-no, I’m fust jine. Just fine!” Her cheeks burn with a blush as she stares into gorgeous green eyes filled with concern. For her. “I’m not hungry, that’s all.”

Adrien doesn’t answer right away, pursing his lips as his gaze sweeps over her, sending shivers down her spine and startling the butterflies lying dormant in her belly. Has he ever looked at her like this before? Really looked?

“You’ve not been hungry a while now, Marinette.”

She shrugs, and tries to summon a smile. Marinette has never been good at hiding her feelings, but she almost feels like she’s pulling it off now, courtesy of his soft and gentle voice. The auditory equivalent of sunshine warms her down to her very fingertips, and she’s eager to grasp the lifeline out of this wretched mood she’s stuck in. Having to listen to Lila’s lies is nauseating enough, but what truly spoiled Marinette’s appetite today was the way Alya kept leaning over to the other table to better hear about the exploits of Lila’s BFF Ladybug.

There’s only so many absent-minded hums a girl a can take. Okay, yeah, she gets it – what Marinette had to say wasn’t that interesting, just dumb small-talk about Clara Nightingale’s new album, but–

She’s just so sick of Alya not listening to her.

“I’m fine,” she says.

“You sure?” Adrien fidgets, all restless energy, jittery in a way that’s nothing like the model’s usual composure. “Because if you’re not, that’s – I mean – I’m not very good at this, but I’ll listen. If you want. You can talk to me.”

Marinette can’t help but burst into laughter, and he startles, staring at her with wide eyes. Instantly, she realizes how insane she must look right now, and somehow that only causes more giggles to leak out of her stupid mouth because hasn’t that ever been the problem?

She can’t. She can’t talk to him. God knows she tried.

“Okay,” he mumbles, pink spreading across his pale cheeks as he pinches his lips together. “Guess that’s a no.”

“No!” Too loud and an octave too high, but the hurt in his gaze finally helps a word break through her giggle fit. “No,” she repeats, at a somewhat sane volume, only to instantly careen back into a higher pitch. “I mean, yes! I – I do want to talk to you. I’ve been – I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a very long time.”

The tension eases from his shoulders. “Oh?”

There’s that gloriously bright smile again and she wants to do nothing but bask in in. Revel in the warmth, study the sweep of his perfect lips, count the happy creases crinkling around his eyes. But staring directly at the sun is ill-advised, so her gaze drops back down to her lap as she tries to gather all her courage.

Now. Now or never.

“I…” Marinette swallows heavily, her dry tongue scraping like sandpaper. “There’s – I’ve been thinking. About honesty. Honesty’s important. Now more than ever. And I need you to… I want you to hear this from me. Not her.”

Adrien blinks, and tilts his head. “Her…?”

“Lila.” She spits the name with more venom than she means to.

From now on, you and I are at war. You will lose your friends and wind up all alone.

Lila is going for the long game. So, too, must Marinette. For all that her emotions sometimes spur her into thoughtless mistakes, Marinette has a mind for strategy. If she can figure out how to beat supervillains with nothing but a polka-dotted fork, she can certainly figure out how to counter slander.

The possibilities reveal themselves before her eyes, just like they do when she’s wearing red and black, a dizzying game of What if? played in seconds. What if I go here? What if Chat Noir uses his Cataclysm on that? What if we lure the Akuma over there?

What if I just ram my boot right into Lila’s stupid face?

That path leads to being expelled and likely to assault charges, so Marinette reluctantly prunes it from her decision tree. One by one, thinking ten steps ahead, she eliminates the paths that don’t lead where she wants to go, leaving only a few moves open to her.

She had screamed into her pillow when she'd figured out that there’s no way around this one.

Lila has been sweet as sugar this last week, even as she kept spinning her tall tales to the delight of her audience. Marinette is braced for the first strike, but it hasn’t come yet – because Lila is gathering allies. Worming her way deeper into the hearts and minds of their classmates, she aims to make sure that when hostilities finally do escalate, there will be people on her side.

Marinette must do the same. Allies are critical, and she can’t allow any of hers to be alienated. Any cracks in her friendships must be mended immediately, the exposed faultlines guarded ferociously.

She peers at the boy in front of her, this kind, wonderful, oblivious boy.

The boy who’s an exposed faultline.

Her weak spot. Sure to be Lila’s target.

Marinette remembers in excruciating detail how she’d felt when she'd been caught in the midst of The Broadcast. The one that had laid bare her innermost sanctum to all of Paris – to Adrien. Never had she ever wanted for him to find out about her love like this. Not from those photographs lining the walls, not from seeing her stupid Adrien shrine, not when it made her look so–

So–

Pathetic.

Which, to be fair. She is. Sometimes. She’s not proud of it, but she – Marinette knows she’s done some awful, embarrassing, not-okay things in her pursuit of Adrien.

Things some of her classmates know about.

Things that Lila might find out.

Things she might tell Adrien, twisting them in the worst way possible to paint Marinette as some deranged fangirl.

That nightmare scenario would be so much worse than the fallout from The Broadcast, and just thinking about it is enough to send Marinette’s anxiety skyrocketing. Yeah, she’s done things that are maybe not all that sane, but that’s not all she is.

She refuses to let Lila turn her into the sum of her lowest moments. That’s not the first impression of her love she wants Adrien to have. Because it is a thing of beauty, this love of hers. A little tarnished, a little cracked around the edges, but beautiful all the same.

And now she just needs to find the words for it.

“I–“ Her tongue is as heavy as lead, responding to her brain’s command to do something with little more than lethargic twitches. A garbled noise that sounds rather like a deflating balloon is all that comes out of her mouth.

“Marinette?”

His fingertips brush her shoulder, gentle and reassuring. She dares to steal a peek through her bangs, only to regret it immediately when she is hit with the full force of Adrien’s eyes wide with concern. Such a lovely shade, shining like the most vivid emeralds. The most beautiful green there ever was. Objectively. So green that other hues of green turn even greener with envy, and still, they cannot match–

God, why does he have to be so pretty? It’s distracting!

Another sound of distress escapes and she presses her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut in concentration.

Say it.

Say ‘I love you’.

It’s not that hard!

“Adrien, I…” she somehow chokes out.

“Mari–?”

“IMINLOVEWITHYOU!”

He flinches back at her yell, and so does she, shrinking in on herself as he stares at her. His breath catches on a sharp inhale when understanding dawns.

“I’m in – in love. With you.”

There. Finally.

Marinette wants to fist pump the air and sink into the deepest depths of the earth all at once, but there’s no time. So she presses on, words tumbling all over each other as she rushes to make him understand. “Ever since – for a long time now. You – you gave me your umbrella – do you remember that? – and I just… you were so kind! I mean, you’re always kind, to everyone, that’s why – but that was the first time I really saw…”

She blinks rapidly against the sting in her eyes as she trails off. She’s making a mess of this. None of what she’s saying does justice to this fire pulsing in her chest.

“You fake me meel – make me feel,” she tries again, only to bury her face in her hands when it comes out even worse, her frustrated screech muffled by her cupped palms.

Skin brushes against skin, strong fingers curling around her hands to gently pry them off her face. Adrien lowers their entwined hands but does not let go, his thumb drawing small, reassuring circles.

She stares at the sight, her heart fluttering somewhere in the general vicinity of her throat.

He has nice hands.

But then, everything about him is nice.

“Marinette,” he says, and her gaze snaps up in alarm because that’s–

That’s–

Pity.

Pity in his voice. Pity in his eyes. Face contorted in that sort of helpless expression that comes with not knowing what to do.

“You’re a wonderful girl. And I’m – I’m really flattered, but…”

Oh god.

There’s a but.

Of course there’s a but, how was she ever so deluded as to think that there would ever not be a but?

A yawning pit opens in her stomach, first swallowing the butterflies in her belly and then everything else, until all that remains is the searing fire in her chest.

Oh god, he’s still talking. Is he–?

“…any guy would be lucky to have you…”

He is.

Adrien Agreste is giving her the It’s not you, it’s me speech.

Marinette laughs, breathless and airy, cutting him off.

“It’s fine!” Her voice is too shrill even to her own ears, though she can barely hear herself past the thunder of her heartbeat. “You don’t have to explain. It’s fine. I understand! I just wanted you to hear it from me first, not from – well, you know. I wasn’t – I wasn’t hoping for – I’m not that deluded.”

He says nothing, and she’s grateful for that.

“I’m fine,” she says, just as warmth seeps down her cheeks and exposes her for the liar she is.