Summary: Adrien always knew he was in love with Ladybug. He just never thought she’d love him back. (a commission for @kaligulas)
“There’s this boy,” she tells him on a quiet summer evening, when the moon is high and stars are bright. “I’m in love with him.”
Chat Noir has known this for quite some time, ever since she’d confessed that night on the balcony in the warm glow of candlelight, hands clenched desperately against her chest. She’d apologized to him for not returning his feelings, the same feelings that never faded, that still burn hot every time he looks at her.
He doesn’t know why she’s telling him this.
“Who is it?” he still asks, the same question he always has. Tossing it up in the middle of the night, like a coin flip for heads or tails, he wonders who has captured Ladybug’s heart.
It’s been almost a year since the night he confessed, six months since they defeated Hawkmoth, three weeks since Ladybug broached the subject of revealing their true identities to each other now that the real evil was gone.
He doesn’t expect an answer—nor does he expect anything to change.
Which is why he’s stunned when Ladybug simply turns to him and smiles, pauses, then says, “Don’t you know, Chat Noir? It’s always been you.”
He’s never wanted to broach the subject with her.
Do you ever think you could fall for me? Do you ever think you’ll see me as anything other than a friend? Do you ever think you could love someone like me? Do you ever think you’d love me without the mask?
Chat Noir promises himself that he’ll never ask her these questions. It’d spare him the heartache if her answer is no. But then again, he’s used to jumping into heartache like people jump into puddles, soaked and splashing with rain-slick skin as he dances across the pavement. Even though it’s still pouring, he keeps dancing, keeps jumping, keeps trying because the alternative is growing cold and numb, and not feeling anything at all.
So he lets the silence pass by until the moment is right, and he finally asks, “What do you mean?” But what he really asks is, Are you in love with me?
And, surprisingly, her answer is, “Yes.”
“Marinette,” he whispers, the name falling easy from his lips like a waterfall.
Because of course, it’s her.
It’s always been her, and suddenly things click into place. It’s in the way she holds herself, the confidence and ease of someone accustomed to being authority, with the grace of a girl who grew up dancing across rooftops. It’s in her bright eyes, as blue as the sky, but flecked gray like a summer rainstorm, and in her dark hair and red ribbons.
It’s in all those little ways, not just the big things, that make Marinette Dupain-Cheng the perfect Ladybug.
“It’s me,” she says with a soft laugh.
The warm breeze blows past, whipping her dark fringe out of her face. She glows under the starlight, skin pale in the darkness, but the night is so beautiful and so is she, and Chat Noir can’t be any happier.
“So I know you,” he says, “and you know me. That makes things easier then, right?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He just smiles and bows, his transformation dropping, and then he’s Adrien Agreste. He glances up at her with a sharp smirk, green eyes glittering.
“Hello, m’lady. Nice to finally meet you.”
Adrien thinks he knows what love is.
They sit under the silver moonlight on Marinette’s balcony, bundled under a red and black throw, and stare out over the city. There’s laughter in the lines around his lips, smiles that stretch wide on Marinette’s face, and words fall easy like breath into the space between them. The cool air is more of a kiss than a bite on this late evening, but Adrien still pulls her close, hands clasped together in his lap.
“We could’ve saved so much time,” he says, “If we’d confessed a lot sooner. No awkward fumbling about which of me you like better.”
“Well…” Marinette’s cheeks are dusted pink, and it’s not from the cold. “How was I supposed to know? It’s not my fault you’re so good at keeping secrets.”
They sit in silence, finding comfort between the silence of one another’s heartbeats, until Adrien finally leans close.
Hot breath tickles her ear. “So what made you decide Chat Noir was better than Adrien anyway?”
Marinette lets out a squawk of surprise and hits him across the chest. Adrien doesn’t mind, though.
“There’s this boy,” she says, “I’m in love with him.”
Of all her answers, he’d never once thought it’d be him.
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