I sketched out a pattern on paper, cut it out, and traced it onto my faux leather twice, then flipped it and traced it twice more. I cut out all 4 ears, and paired them off, front and back, so I wouldn't confuse myself later.
On each of the fronts, I cut out tiny triangles directly below the points of the ears, then folded the right sides together and stitched the triangles closed.
After that, I tried gluing the fronts and backs together, but that was a complete fail. The glue soaked into the fabric on the back of the faux leather, and didn't adhere at all. Back to the needle and thread I went.
Since I had to stitch them anyway, I decided to sew in tiny black seed beads because why the hell not?
When I had them both done, I stitched them on to a pair of oversized poppy-clips. I'd intended to use a headband, but decided the clips would be more comfortable for wearing all day at MegaCon.
Don’t forget that I added new scenes to chapters four and seven to accommodate this chapter! You don’t have to read them, but the second half of this might be a bit jarring if you skip them.
Read the chapter on AO3. Read it from the beginning.
“So, Marinette, have you filed your complaint with the University’s Arcane Department yet?”
“No, not yet.” Marinette sighed as Fu set his teacup back into its saucer and pushed it back to join his now bare lunch plate. “The administrative offices are closed over the weekend. If you really think it’s necessary, then I’ll do it in the morning, before class.”
“It is necessary, my dear. This breach of trust must be addressed.” Fu folded his hands on the table, and gave her a level look. “To be honest, Marinette, I believe that you should also request to be assigned to a new Master.”
“What?” Marinette blanched, dismayed by the very suggestion. Reporting Mme. Piers was bad enough; asking to be reassigned felt like a betrayal of her kind, well-meaning mentor. “No! I can’t do that to her!”
Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed. “You might have to, Mari. After we file our complaints, it’s likely that she will be suspended.”
Fu nodded in confirmation, his eyes sad. “I am sorry, Marinette, but this is not something to be taken lightly. No matter her intentions, she has violated your trust and the rules of our arcane community.”
“I know, Master Fu. I will speak with the Dean of Arcane Studies in the morning.” Her eyes filled with tears and she bit her lip against the urge to cry. She wished now that she’d never mentioned any of this to her parents. It had made her uncomfortable, yes, but was it really worth jeopardizing the woman’s career? She had been so kind to Marinette, and she’d learned so much under the woman’s guidance. Marinette swallowed the sob in her throat and stood, pushing away from the table. “If you’ll excuse me, please? I think I need that nap as much as you do.”
She stood, clasping her composure tight around her, and gathered the dirtied dishes from the table, leaving only the tea pot and Master Fu’s cup and saucer. She left them in the sink to be washed later; right now, she needed to be alone with her tears.
Adrien frowned at Marinette’s closed door, wishing that there was some way that he could make Marinette feel better about what they had to do. She’d gathered the plates and things from the table woodenly, and though he knew that she’d been trying to hide her distress, he could tell that she’d been holding her tears at bay by the barest thread.
“Adrien.”
He met Fu’s gaze and saw his own sadness mirrored there, as well as a bone-deep exhaustion that he’d not noticed before. “What is it?”
Fu sighed and rubbed his eyes in weary agitation. “I suspect that this woman’s motives are not as pure as Marinette believes.”
Adrien felt his frown deepen. “Isn’t this something that you should be telling Marinette?”
“And if I did, do you think that she would listen to me?”
He met the old man’s gaze steadily for a few heartbeats, then blew out a breath and shook his head. “No, she wouldn’t.”
Fu smiled faintly and shook his head. “She would dismiss the notion out of hand. I will not suggest it to her until we have more than a suspicion mal-intent.”
“And you want me to, what, go looking for proof?”
“No, no of course not.” Fu shook his head and waved his hands as if to banish the idea. “I only want you to keep in mind the possibility, and keep wary eyes open. Don’t forget that while Marinette is the one betrayed by Mme. Piers, she betrayed her to you. Both of you are powerful mages in your own right, and when joined with your elementals, that power is increased exponentially. Imagine what she could accomplish if she could gain control of both of you, and the magic you wield?”
Adrien gaped at him, aghast. “Of course she wouldn’t! It would be—”
“Unethical?” Fun interjected calmly. “Kind of like revealing another mage’s arcane secrets, wouldn’t you say? Especially when she’s sworn to protect that mage and her secrets, and it would have been easy enough for her to gain Marinette’s consent before speaking to you.”
“Gods of the Sea,” he swore, his mind racing. When considered from that perspective, Fu’s claim didn’t seem so far-fetched after all. And if he hadn’t come upon Marinette at the beach that morning, she would never have known she’d been betrayed and he would never have realized it was such a betrayal. He blew out a breath and looked back at Fu. “Piers didn’t know that we knew about each other. We didn’t, actually, until that very morning. She’d have never been caught.”
“Indeed.” Fu lifted the tea pot and poured himself another steaming cup, then sat back to sip at the brew. He looked at Adrien enigmatically over the rim of his tea cup. “Perhaps you would benefit from a nap as well, young man. And perhaps Marinette would benefit from some company.”
Adrien flushed at the knowing twinkle in the man’s eyes, but took the offered escape without hesitation. “I think you’re right, Master. Enjoy your rest.” He stood and offered an informal bow, which was returned with an inclined head.
At Marinette’s door, he paused to knock and wait for her invitation to enter. When he received no response, he knocked again and called her name softly.
There was the sound of muted rustling, and then a sniffle. “Adrien?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Can I come in?” He heard more rustling, a few beats of silence, and then the door opened to show a red-nosed, teary-eyed Marinette. “Are you okay?” he asked awkwardly, feeling ill equipped to comfort her.
She sniffled again and stepped back from the door, allowing it to open wider. He stepped past her into the room. “Yeah. I just…I feel awful, like I’m betraying her. You know?” She shut the door behind him and leaned against it, looking defeated.
“I do.” Adrien moved farther into the room, taking the opportunity to gather his thoughts without the distraction of her large, wounded eyes. He sat himself in her computer chair and faced her. “But Marinette, she is the one who betrayed you. This is a logical, reasonable response to that betrayal.”
“Not when it was well-intentioned!” She pushed away from the door and flopped down on her bed to stare at the ceiling. “She wasn’t trying to hurt me, Adrien, she was trying to help you! Why should she be punished for that?”
“She still betrayed you,” he said softly. “And no matter what her intentions were, she knew what she was doing when she did it. She could have asked you first.”
“I already promised to report it,” Marinette muttered bitterly.
Adrien winced. He hadn’t meant to let Fu’s suspicions filter into their conversation. “Marinette, I—I’m sorry. I didn’t come in here to badger you.”
“I hate this.”
“I know.”
She rolled onto her side, pillowing her head on her bent arm, so that she could look at him. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad you’re coming with me, tomorrow.”
Adrien felt himself smiling a bit, in spite of the circumstances. “Yeah?”
She returned his small smile and nodded, a fait blush staining her cheeks. “Yeah.”
His smile widened. “Me, too.”
She bit her lip, hesitating, then reached out her hand in invitation. He took it and allowed her to draw him with her as she rolled to her other side, pulling his arm over her side as he settled behind her. A bit surprised and more than pleased with this turn of events, he tucked himself against her body and tightened his arm around her waist to fit her more snugly along his. She relaxed into him with a sigh, and Adrien thought that he had never been more comfortable in his life.
Justine Piers maintained her mask of humbled contrition throughout her meeting with the Dean of Arcane Studies only by the barest thread. At its end, she apologized to the whelps with every appearance of true regret, even going so far as to comfort the weeping, guilt-stricken girl. Then, she schooled her expression into pleasant affability and made her way out of the administrative building as if she hadn’t just been humiliated, scolded like a naughty child and suspended from her position at the University.
To all those around her, she seemed as she always did.
Inside, though, she was anything but calm. Incandescent fury writhed in her breast, beating against the cage of her outer composure, but she would not give vent to it here. Those insolent whelps had cost her too much already; she would not allow a lack of control to shatter the rest. She kept her anger tightly leashed until she reached the sanctity of her home, and her well-warded workshop below. Only then did she let the mask fall and indulge her rage.
How dare they interfere with her carefully laid plans? And how had she not known what they intended to do, before hand? With a scream and an angry wave of her arm, she swept her heavy walnut worktable across the room and into the wall. The resulting crash of splintering wood and whimpers of her terrified Brownie slaves did little to assuage her. Those two little brats had been the barest of acquaintances. Neither had known anything of import about the other, she was sure! The one was so pathetically shy, the other so utterly spineless and both of them so naïve as to make them puppets in her hands! How could they have learned about one another so quickly, and taken action against her? How dare they call her character and reputation into question, jeopardizing everything that she had worked so hard to achieve?
She snarled and cast about for something else to destroy. Preferably something alive. She wanted to rail at Nooroo, to sever his connection to the brooch and drain his essence of power, but she knew better than to summon him with her temper in this state. He was far too valuable to sacrifice, no matter how richly he deserved her wrath, and she snarled again. One of the brownies flinched at her growl and she fixed her gaze on him. He would do.
She seized him by the throat and pinned him to the stone wall with manacles of compressed air. He struggled frantically, as if he didn’t know the hopelessness of his situation. She smiled cruelly, enjoying his terror as much as she would enjoy his pain.
She let him hang there and swung into angry pacing, and the two remaining brownies shrank further into their corner with strangled whimpers. After all she had done for them, teaching them and honing their powers, how could they betray her in this way? She’d all but taken that freakish fish boy by the hand and led him to power he’d never dreamed of! She knew he’d done it; he’d all but glowed with raw elemental power that morning! How could he possibly have turned on her? And to go behind her back in this way, tattling to the dean like spoiled children? It was disgraceful! It was utterly intolerable! She had planned to be merciful, to return them to their lives after taking only their magic, but now? No. They no longer deserved such mercy.
Justine’s eyes gleamed with pleasure as she considered her revenge. They would watch without hope at their blood ran red from their bodies. She would strip them of everything, drain away their very lives and their powers as she pared the skin from their bodies. They would beg for death, but no. They no longer deserved even that. When they hung in agony on the cusp of death, she would rip their souls from their bodies and bind them as her eternal slaves.
Then her eyes fell on the suspended Brownie. She had yet to slake her fury in his blood, but she would--and she realized then that on top of everything else, they would cost her one of her slaves. She turned on the Brownie with renewed anger. She took every ounce of her fury and poured it out on the wretched creature, her blade of air visible only after it ran with blood.
When she was finally spent, there was little left of the Brownie that could be recognized as such. She stood in the midst of her ruined workshop, uncaring of the blood spattered grotesquely over her face and around the room and oblivious to the trembling her slaves. All of it was inconsequential in the face of her now-banked rage. But soon, soon, her air blade would be slick with their blood.
She drew a deep, calming breath, tasked her slaves with clearing the remains of their brother from her workshop and replacing her work table, and went upstairs to shower before the blood could dry further.
Dried blood was such a nuisance to wash from her hair.
“I cannot believe I tripped over my own feet,” Bridgette moaned from behind her hands. “This is humiliating.”
“Oh, I can believe you tripped,” Marinette replied with a teasing smile, tugging her sister’s hands from her face. “I just can’t believe you crippled yourself in the process.”
“Ugh, Nettie! You’re not helping!”
“You’re smiling now,” Marinette pointed out. Then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in close. “And just think; if you hadn’t fallen, Adrien would never have had an excuse to scoop you up and carry you around as if you weighed nothing.”
“Marinette!” she hissed, laughing. “It was pretty hot, though, wasn’t it?”
“Totally hot,” Marinette agreed.
“Here’s the ice!” Adrien announced as he entered the library and made a beeline for Bridgette, who was blushing furiously. “And some ibuprofen. Here, this should help until Dr. Wang can get here to take a look at you.” He passed the ice pack to Marinette, who dutifully wrapped it gently around her sister’s swollen ankle, and held the Advil out to Bridgette.
She and Marinette shared a look, but she took the bottle from his hand, shook a few pills into her hand, then reached to take the offered glass of water to wash them down.
“Adrien, really,” she said when she’d swallowed. “Thank you for the ice and everything, but there is no reason that Nettie can’t drive me to the ER.”
“Absolutely not,” Adrien said, his voice firm. “It’s still pouring out there, and it’s best for you to move as little as possible. I’d hate for you to make your ankle worse than it already is when I’m in a position to help.”
“Dr. Wang is our private physician,” Felix added. “Or he was, when last we lived in Paris. “I can tell you from personal experience that he’s an excellent doctor.”
“But there’s no reason to trouble him, Feli-bear,” Chloe said. “Honestly, the ER isn’t that far away and you could just have Pierce carry her to the car.”
Adrien scowled at his sister. “Not happening, Chlo.”
“I’ve already called him, anyway,” Felix said, his tone clearly indicating that he would tolerate no further objection from her corner. “He is perfectly happy to resume his position with our family, starting now.”
“Fine.” Chloe huffed and stalked to the door, her annoyance clear. “Come on Sabrina. Now that the power is back on, I want to finish that movie.”
Marinette frowned after her, piqued as always by the woman’s selfish disregard for the people around her.
“Thank God,” Adrien breathed, relaxing. His comment surprised a laugh out of both Marinette and her sister, and he shrugged sheepishly. “My sisters are best taken in small doses.”
Felix snorted, but added nothing.
“Right this way, please, Dr. Wang,” they heard from outside the door. “They’re in the library.”
A moment later a kind-looking, older Asian gentleman stepped into the room, followed immediately by an attractive woman in a sharp skirt suit.
Felix stepped forward, his hand out-stretched. “Dr Wang, thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“It is my pleasure, master Felix,” the man said in accented French, taking Felix’s hand and shaking it warmly. “It has been many years since I was last called here. “You’ve grown.”
“It would have been more noteworthy if I had not,” Felix answered dryly.
Adrien stepped forward then, his own hand extended, and greeted the man in rapid-fire Chinese. Fu looked surprised for a moment, and then a wide grin spread across his face. He answered the greeting in kind, and whatever he said, it made Adrien flush brightly.
“You speak Chinese?” Bridgette asked excitedly, her eyes on Adrien. “That’s fantastic!”
Marinette chuckled, and shook her head. Their mother was going to absolutely adore this boy.
“Show off,” Felix muttered.
“So, this is the young lady, I take it?” Dr Wang, asked, gesturing to Bridgette. At Adrien’s nod, the old doctor pulled a chair up to her chaise and then held his hand out to her. “I’m Dr. Wang Fu, my dear. And you are?”
“Bridgette,” she replied, smiling wanly.
“Alright, Bridgette, let’s see that ankle, shall we?”
While Marinette and Adrien went to get Bridgette situated in one of their guest rooms, Felix saw Dr. Fu to the door and then went to check on dinner. The power had only been out for twenty minutes or so, but he knew that it was enough to have caused problems in the kitchen.
Thankfully, there had been no damage done. The staff had still been doing prep work when the power went out, so there had been nothing to ruin. They were running a bit behind schedule, but otherwise, dinner was in good order.
The rest of the weekend was less certain, as Marinette and Bridgette would now be staying the whole weekend. Bridgette’s ankle was sprained, not broken, but it was a nasty sprain and Dr. Wang had given her something a bit stronger than ibuprofen to help dull the pain. The girls had suggested that they go home, but Adrien had insisted that they stay.
“I couldn’t possibly let you go home now,” he’d said. “Dr. Wang wanted you to stay off of your feet and get some rest. Why not just do that here? Fe’s staff can take care of anything that you need, and we can keep you company while you recover!”
The girls had agreed, and now Felix had four young women staying at his house for the whole weekend.
If the press got a hold of this, they’d have a field day.
Felix sighed and slumped into his favorite chair in his favorite room of the house: the library. It was his refuge from the world, and wnyone who knew him, knew better than to disturb his peace in the library.
“What the hell, Felix?”
Everyone, it seemed, except Chloe Bourgeois.
“What has your panties in a twist now, Chloe?” he asked flatly, his head resting back against the chair, his eyes closed.
“They’re staying the weekend now?” she screeched, from what sounded like only a few inches away. “How could you possibly allow them to impose on you like this?”
“First of all, you will either lower your volume, or you will be forcibly removed from this room,” he stated, his voice low and hard. “Secondly, they are in no way imposing. Thirdly, this is my home and I will allow anyone I like to stay here, imposition or otherwise. And finally, unless you wish me to rescind my invitation to you, you will keep a civil tongue in your head at all times.” He opened his eyes, and met her furious blue gaze with his own, cool green. “Have I made myself clear, Ms. Bourgeois?”
“Perfectly,” she grated.
“Excellent.” He leaned his head back and allowed his eyes to slide closed once more. “Dinner is at 7:30. You may entertain yourself until then.”
She muttered a curse under her breath, but Felix chose to pretend that he hadn’t heard it. She moved across the room then; he could hear her shuffling through the magazines that had been left on a low console table near the window.
He sighed in satisfaction. Chloe had been muzzled, Sabrina was sulking elsewhere, and Marinette and Adrien would presumably be busy with Bridgette until time for dinner. This meant that he had a full hour of quiet to—
“…certain that it’s okay for us to stay here? Felix didn’t exactly seem thrilled with the idea,” Marinette said, her voice growing louder as she drew nearer.
Damnit.
“I promise, it’s fine,” he heard Adrien reassure her. “If it hadn’t been, he’d have said so earlier.”
“Yes, I’m sure he would have,” she said caustically.
“Marinette—”
“Did you get her settled into a room, then?” Felix asked politely, interrupting Adrien and putting a stop to that particular line of conversation.
“Yes, thank you. We will be more than comfortable there.”
Adrien turned to her in some surprise. “You needn’t share the room. I had thought to give you the room just across the hall from hers. Did you want to share the room with your sister?”
“Oh, um… We’ve always shared a room. I just assumed…”
Adrien smile warmly and waved away her stilted response. “We can figure it out later.”
“How is her ankle?”
Adrien turned back to Felix. “Perfectly fine, for now. Whatever Dr. Wang gave her, it knocked her out entirely.”
Marinette nodded, chuckling. “She stayed awake long enough to eat a snack, but it was a losing battle after that. She was snoring when we left.”
Ah. That explained why they’d returned, rather than staying with Bridgette. “I’m glad that she’s comfortable. It is unfortunate that she was injured in the first place.”
Chloe set her magazine down in disgust, and crossed her arms mulishly over her chest. “I don’t know why you should be worried. It was her own—”
Felix cleared his throat pointedly, and when he had her attention, raised his brow in challenge.
It was a shame,” she amended hastily, “but I’m sure she’ll be just fine in a few days. There’s no need to worry.”
Felix gave her a mocking nod, and she scowled.
“So, um…where is Sabrina?” Marinette asked when the silence became awkward.
“Oh.” Chloe waved a dismissive hand and rolled her eyes dramatically. “She got into the wet bar in the theater, and passed out. I asked Nathalie to have someone carry her to her room.”
Marinette blinked in surprise, and looked from one person to the next, as if gauging their reactions. “I guess this is a regular thing?”
“Regular enough.” Chloe shrugged, leaning over to choose another magazine. She made her selection and began flipping through it, and the silence stretched.
Marinette looked at Adrien, who’d pulled his phone from his pocket and was now engrossed in it. Then she looked at him. His slitted eyes gave the impression that they were closed, and seeing no help there, Marinette rose from her seat and began looking over the books on a nearby shelf.
Felix watched her curiously, wondering whether she was just idly browsing, or whether she was actually looking for something to read. She hummed absently as she moved down the shelf, sometimes rising on tiptoe to reach something on the top shelf or bending down to pull a book from a lower shelf. She was gradually moving closer to him, and he realized that if she continued, she would pass very close to him.
Marinette took that opportunity to shift her weight from one foot to another, and Felix found his gaze drawn inexorably to her pert derriere. She shifted again, tilting her ass from one side to the other. He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes fully before she could come any closer—and before his thoughts could devolve further.
He opened them fully a moment later, at the sound of Chloe’s scoff.
“Really, Marinette?” she asked, her voice acid.
Marinette jumped, startled, and looked blankly at Chloe. “What?”
Chloe scoffed, her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. “Standing there, shaking your ass in Felix’s face in the hope that he might actually notice you? Pathetic.”
Marinette’s face paled, then flushed a dark red as she turned self-consciously to put her back to the book shelf. “I’m looking at books, Chloe, not looking for a victim to seduce. That’s a trick out of your arsenal, not mine.”
“How dare you suggest—”
“Enough,” Felix interjected, more than fed up with her. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, stalking from the room.
He had been enjoying the view, and he’d enjoyed it all the more because he knew that her movements had been without artifice. He found it refreshing, just as Adrien did. Given that the vast majority of their experience had been with society women like Chloe and Sabrina Bourgeois, it was no wonder that Adrien was already half in love with Bridgette.
Felix thought again of Marinette’s spirited personality and snapping blue eyes, and reminded himself firmly that she was too far removed from his sphere for her to ever be anything more than a dalliance. Then he put the idea of even an affair out of his mind; he strongly suspected that with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a little would never be enough.
“’I am in no mood to waste my time dancing with a girl who can’t find her own partners’”, Marinette mocked as she scrubbed at a countertop, deepening her voice to mimic Felix’s. “What an ass!”
Bridgette giggled, pausing for a moment in her sweeping. The café was closed for the night, and the two girls were nearly finished with clean-up. “That was a rather unkind thing to say,” she agreed. “But he is friends with Adrien, right? He can’t be all bad.”
“Your Adrien is a sweet, innocent cinnamon roll,” Marinette said, snorting. She tossed the dish rag into the sink and opened the till to begin counting money. “He probably found the one redeeming facet of Felix’s character and set about trying to help him. He can’t be blamed for the company he keeps.”
“He is not my Adrien!” Bridgette gasped, blushing. She fumbled the dustpan in her hand and it clattered to the floor, scattering its contents at her feet. Scowling, she bent once more to sweep the debris back into the pan.
“Oh, I think that he is. He hardly left your side at all last night.” Marinette looked up from the cash drawer to see that Bridgette’s blush had deepened. She grinned in triumph. “Besides, I notice that you didn’t argue the rest of my statement.”
“Alright then, Felix is a boor,” Bridgette allowed, dumping the pan into the trash bin. She joined Marinette at the counter and began checking credit card receipts against their closing print-out. “But Adrien is wonderful and I want to see him again.”
“And because he doesn’t want to go anywhere without his friend,” Marinette finished for her, “you want me to double date with you guys so that it isn’t awkward.”
Bridgette blinked. “How did you know?”
“I heard you on the phone earlier when we were on break,” she said, wincing. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was on the balcony and the hatch was open.”
“Oh, goodness! I was so excited to see that he’d texted me that I forgot you were up there.” Bridgette shrugged and stapled the receipts to the printout, then reached under the counter for a deposit envelope. “It isn’t even a date, really. I just don’t want to go alone.”
Marinette began to count out the day’s deposit, stacking the cash in front of Bridgette so that she could count it as well. It only took a moment, after all, and it helped to ensure accurate book-keeping. Both girls stayed quiet as they counted, but as soon as Bridgette finished Marinette took up the thread of their conversation.
“So what makes either of you think that the high and mighty Felix Agreste would consent to spending the evening with a lowly baker’s daughter?” she asked, her tone almost bitter. She’d hoped to meet him, and had even fantasized about hitting it off with him. They’d have dinner and talk fashion and design, and when they were done, his goodnight kiss would leave her weak in the knees. Marinette scoffed. Not likely, she thought almost acidly. Had she not encountered him on Thursday, she might have leapt starry-eyed at the prospect of spending the evening with him. But his churlish behavior the night before had shattered her fantasies and his insults had stung more than she’d admitted.
“Actually, Adrien said that Felix has already agreed. He’s invited us to meet them at the Forster Club tonight at eight.” Bridgette sighed as she tucked the money into the bank envelope and locked it in the discreet safe under the counter. Then she rose and leaned back against the counter to look at Marinette. “I’m a terrible sister, aren’t I?”
“Of course not!” Marinette said, impulsively hugging her sister. “You’re the best of sisters, which is why I will willingly subject myself to an evening of social torture if it means that it will make you happy.”
“You’re sure?” Bridgette asked, hope and guilt warring on her face.
“Absolutely. I can always ask Alya and Nino to meet us there, right?”
“Of course!” Bridgette nodded, looking relieved, and led the way from the shop into the stairwell behind it. “Maybe he’ll actually dance this time!”
“He can dance all he wants,” Marinette said as she locked the door behind her, “so long as he doesn’t expect to dance with me.”
“Come on, Mari! Give him a chance. You might find that he isn’t an ogre after all.”
Marinette’s only answer to that was another snort.
“Tell me again, why you think I needed to be here?” Felix asked, leaning close to Adrien to speak directly into his ear. The thumping bass in the club was so loud that he could feel it in his chest. He was surprised that his ears weren’t bleeding.
“You’re here because it’s not healthy to hide away in that enormous house all the time, and because I want you to like Bridgette and her friends as much as I do. Besides, the girls wanted to go out again.”
Felix scoffed derisively. “Bridgette is sweet enough, but her friends are ridiculous. And your sisters could have gone without us.”
Adrien shot him a quelling look, which he then shifted to include Chloe and Sabrina behind him. “Fine, you’re here because I asked you to come. Now, play nice, all three of you.” His gaze moved beyond them then, and he brightened visibly. “Bridgette, Marinette, you made it!”
“Joy, joy,” Felix muttered as Adrien embraced each of the girls in turn. It didn’t slip his notice that he barely bussed Marinette’s cheek, but pressed a real kiss against Bridgette. The girl blushed prettily and smiled at Adrien through her lashes.
Felix pressed his lips together reprovingly, and shared a look with Chloe. Didn’t Adrien realize that she was merely dazzled by a celebrity, and that he would likely be just another conquest? After all, he’d heard enough at the University mixer to know that both girls were well liked and much sought-after by their male peers—and a few of the females as well.
Adrien grasped his shoulder then, drawing him from his thoughts. “You ladies remember my friend, Felix, right? And my sisters, Chloe and Sabrina?”
Marinette smiled at the other women, then met his eyes boldly and raised a brow. “I most certainly do,” she said, smirking up at him.
“Of course we do,” Bridgette said, darting a worried glance at her sister. “It’s good to see you again!”
“Likewise,” Felix lied. There was an awkward pause then, and Adrien surreptitiously jabbed an elbow into his side. Oh, right. He was supposed to dance. He looked dutifully back to Marinette and cleared his throat. “Marinette, would you like to dance?”
“Dance?” she and Chloe blurted together, both too surprised to filter their responses. “With you?”
“You can’t be serious, Fe,” Chloe said, her tone disbelieving.
“That was the idea, yes,” Felix answered them, bristling at their reactions. “And I was completely serious. I am capable of dancing, you know.”
She blushed in embarrassment, her mouth opening and closing, and Chloe snickered. Alya appeared at her side, Nino at her back, and saved her from answering.
“There you guys are!” she said, smiling broadly.
Marinette turned to her gratefully. “Alya! Hi!”
“You ready to get your groove on, girl?” She rolled her body sensuously as she spoke, and Marinette laughed.
“Absolutely,” she said, grinning. Then she turned grudgingly back to Felix, Chloe and Sabrina. “Did you want to come with us?”
“Ah, no. I think I will just get something to drink, for now.”
Chloe smiled smugly at Marinette and moved closer to Felix, her hand on his arm possessively. “Nonsense, Fe. Come dance with us.”
Felx shook off her hand and took a step back, trying to mask his distaste. “Perhaps later,” he said in an effort to mollify her. It didn’t work; her expression turned cold.
“Fine. Sabrina, let’s go.”
The two haughty women marched off in one direction, while Alya led both Marinette and Nino in another. All three of them looked relieved, and honestly, Felix couldn’t blame them.
After a moment’s hesitation, Adrien and Bridgette chose to follow the trio rather than the pair. As he passed, Adrien gave him a dirty look that Felix had no difficulty interpreting. You should have said yes, the look said. You should have gone with them.
Well, fuck Adrien. He got to dance with the sweet Bridgette, but it was clear that the prickly Marinette would much rather dance with Alya and her boyfriend than with him. Which was perfectly fine. He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, let alone dance in such close quarters with so many other people.
Turning resolutely from the dance floor, he made his way over to the bar to claim a stool and as soon as he snagged the bartender’s attention, he ordered a double of Jameson on the rocks. This was certainly turning out to be a double-shot kind of night, he thought sourly.
Drink in hand, he turned on the stool to lean back against the edge of the bar and sought Adrien with his eyes. He found him not far from where he’d left them, dancing very close to Bridgette. They were somehow managing to converse despite the blaring music. As he watched, Adrien said something in her ear that prompted her to turn a bright pink. Her smile was genuine, and Felix considered that she might not be a rabid, gold-digging fan after all.
Then his eyes caught on Marinette. Through the shifting mass of dancers between them, he could see that she was sandwiched between Alya and Nino, dancing almost lewdly. He was pressed at her back with his fingers at her hips, while Alya danced at her front. The two women were pressed intimately together, their hips rocking in time to the music. Alya said something to Nino with her brow arched, and in response, he leaned over Marinette’s shoulder to kiss Alya soundly, with her still trapped between them. Then Alya leaned in to say something to Marinette, who shook her head with a laugh.
Felix shifted uncomfortably on the stool, feeling aroused and very much like a voyeur. Had he mistaken the situation? Were they a trio rather than a couple and their friend? The idea was surprisingly titillating. He took another long swig of his whiskey, and tried to focus on its smooth burn as it slid down his throat.
It didn’t help.
When he looked again, he unexpectedly met Alya’s gaze. She was still dancing, but she was definitely looking right at him, her expression appraising. Then she bent to Marinette’s ear again, and this time she frowned and blushed hotly. Alya shrugged, and they went back to dancing without talking.
Felix’s eyes stayed on Marinette. She was wearing a simple v-neck tank and sinfully tight jeans, but she’d accessorized with pops of red at her ears, throat, and wrist. He realized that she’d been wearing black and red before, too, and wondered idly if they were her favorite colors. As she danced, she slipped out from between the other two and they moved into more of a circle. This allowed him an excellent view of her derriere as she moved, and Felix couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than what she’d been doing before.
Felix threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another.
Marinette laughed as Nino and Alya moved up in front and behind her as they danced. She slapped Alya’s ass playfully even as she pressed herself back into Nino’s pelvis. His fingers flexed at her hips in response. “That’s enough, you two! People are going to get the wrong idea about us if y’all keep that up.”
“Maybe that’s what we want people to think,” Alya said, waggling her eyebrows. “What do you think Nino, should we invite her to join us?”
“I think that’s a splendid idea, Al. Here, let’s show her what she’s missing.” He leaned forward and Alya met him over Marinette’s shoulder, kissing heatedly.
“Mm. See, Mari? He’s a fantastic kisser.”
Marinette laughed again. “Come on you guys. You’re just trying to get me wound up so I’ll find someone of my own.”
“Are we?” Alsa asked innocently. “Honestly, I think you might have found someone already. “Felix has been watching for the last ten minuntes.”
Marinette felt her face warm, and she scowled at Alya. “Wait, was that little show for him?”
“Yup,” Alya said, popping the P. “You should go talk to him. He’s practically undressing you with his eyes.”
“No way,” Marinette said firmly. “He’s fine where he is, and so am I.”
Alya shrugged and dropped it, but now that she was aware of him, Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Self-conscious now, she slipped out from between her friends and thankfully, they seemed to realize what she wanted. She put her back to the bar and pointedly ignored him. Adrien and Bridgette soon joined their loose circle.
“Are you guys getting thirsty?” Adrien asked, shouting to be heard by all four of them over the music.
Nino nodded. “I could go for a drink. Ladies?”
There were nods all around, and they moved as a group away from the dance floor and over towards where Felix had stationed himself at the bar. Marinette, though, had no desire to stay and make small talk with Felix.
She touched Bridgette’s shoulder to get her attention. “Get me a water, will you?”
“Yeah, sure.” She frowned at Marinette, studying her sweat-dampened face. “You okay?”
Marinette smiled reassuringly. “I just need to visit the ladies’ room. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“You want me to go with you?”
“I’ll go with her,” Alya volunteered. “I want a shot and a water as well. Hook me up!”
Marinette rolled her eyes and moved past the bar towards the hall, where the bathrooms were. Beyond them was a small, quiet lounge that was intended to be a refuge from the loud music in the main room of the club, and beyond that was the entrance to the club’s offices.
“So, do you actually need to go?” Alya asked as they approached the ladies’ room.
“Do you?” Marinette shot back, pausing at the door.
Alya grinned. “Nope.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Marinette walked past the restroom without pausing and sought out a seat in the lounge. “All I really wanted was a break from the music, and a place to sit down for a few minutes.”
“You have some of the best ideas,” Alya agreed. She sat next to her with a happy sigh, and bent to rub her feet. “I have to wonder, though, whether it was truly the music you wished to escape, or the brooding blonde at the bar.”
“The music,” Marinette answered flatly.
“You do realize that he’s been watching you like a hawk all night, right?”
“He has not!”
“De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt, you know.”
Marinette sighed. “Why would he be watching me, Alya?”
“Um, because you’re hot?”
“So are all of his socialite beauty queens, and they come with the proverbial silver spoon. You’re imagining things.”
“This place is a joke,” Chloe murmured at his ear, making him jump. The others had gone back to dance, and he’d thought he was alone. Or, well, as alone could be in a club packed with partyers.
“Is it?” he asked, noncommittal.
“I know you’re as miserable as I am, Fe. You’ve been glaring out at the dance floor all night.”
“I’m not miserable,” Felix protested. And he wasn’t. He wasn’t…happy, per se, but he wasn’t unhappy either. Actually, he was rather enjoying the view, and he told her as much.
Chloe frowned, and followed his line of sight to the dance floor. “Who are you staring at?”
“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She has a very fine—” he caught sight of Chloe’s horrified expression and stopped himself before he could finish that sentence as he’d intended to. Instead, he finished lamely, “eyes. She has very fine eyes.”
“Those who act in haste usually repent at leisure.” (A Miraculous Pride and Prejudice AU)
Read it on AO3.
“Marinette! Bridgette! Come look!”
Marinette looked up from her sketchbook, and met her sister’s questioning gaze with a shrug.
Bridgette echoed her shrug. “Coming, maman,” she called, setting aside her book and climbing down from the loft.
Marinette sighed and followed her sister down the stairs, then paused in confusion when she didn’t see her mother in the kitchen. “Maman?”
“In here, girls,” Sabine Cheng called from the next room. “Look at this!”
Marinette crossed the kitchen after Bridgette and stopped next to her mother, whose excited gaze was riveted to the screen.
“—absence of any announcement has given rise to a great deal of speculation,” Clara Contard was saying, speaking to the camera from in front of an impressively ornate gate, and gesturing to the bustling activity going on behind it, “but it seems clear that someone is finally moving into the Agreste Mansion here in the heart of Paris. Whether it is the notoriously reclusive designer himself, or perhaps his equally reclusive son, is anyone’s guess. Either way, the sudden activity here has caused a ripple through the social elite in Paris and everyone in the city is excited to see who will be taking up residence.”
The screen split, and the on-site feed was joined by a nodding Nadja Chamack in the studio. “Thank you Clara. This is exciting news, and of course, we will continue to cover the story as it develops.”
Clara nodded, smiling widely. “Absolutely, Nadja! Make sure to stay tuned for the latest updates on Paris’ favorite celebrities!”
The screen shifted again, leaving only Nadja in the studio, and Sabine muted the volume as she passed things over to their resident meteorologist. “Isn’t this exciting?” Sabine asked, turning to her daughters. “I know you probably don’t remember, but Emilie Agreste used to be one of our very best customers! If it hadn’t been for her regular orders back when your father and I were just starting out—“
“—And her referrals to other wealthy clients—” Bridgette interjected, grinning.
“You might not have gotten the boulangerie off the ground,” Marinette finished for them in fond exasperation.
Sabine nodded, chuckling at the girls’ perfect recitation of her oft-spoken praise. “And we might not have added the pastries to our menu if she hadn’t been so insistent that we expand!”
“We know, Maman,” Bridgette said, rolling her eyes good naturedly. “Do you really think that she’s back?”
“I don’t know, but I hope so! She’s a lovely woman, and I’d be thrilled to get reacquainted with her.”
“I hope they are back,” Marinette said. “Gabriel Agreste is the undisputed king of high fashion, and I would kill for an opportunity to meet him.”
Bridgette shuddered. “The ice king, maybe. Isn’t he supposed to be brutally cold?”
“Misunderstood genius, Bri. Could he really be that awful if his wife is as sweet as Maman says?”
The girls looked to their mother, who shrugged. “I’ve never met him. Even back then, he was terribly reserved.”
“Hmm. Well, you’re welcome to him, Nettie. I’d much rather meet their son.” Bridgette nodded to the photo currently displayed on the muted television, waggling her eyebrows. “I love that tousled, just out of bed look.”
“Bridgette!” Sabine gasped in mock outrage. “What do you know of men just out of bed?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” she quipped, grinning at her mother.
Marinette laughed. “Felix Agreste is the taller one, with the smirk. Bed-head guy is Adrien Bourgeois.”
Bridgette blinked. “The mayor’s son?”
“The very one,” Marinette said, eyeing the next photo appreciatively. “Honestly, I’d be thrilled to meet any of them, but my interest in those two has little to do with fashion.”
“What do you think, Fe? How does it feel to be back in Paris?”
“Stifling,” Felix said flatly, gazing around Adrien’s chosen room with distaste. Years ago, his father had filled this room with a veritable arcade in a failed effort to fill the void left by his absence in his son’s life. Felix hated every bit of it.
Adrien gripped the handle of the foosball rod to stop its spinning, and looked over at his friend, his brows knit. “Are you sure you don’t mind me taking your old room?”
Felix scoffed, frowning. “Not in the least. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here at all, and I certainly wouldn’t have taken this room. You’re welcome to it.”
Adrien straightened, looking around the room himself. He frowned. “You didn’t have to come, you know. And you didn’t have to open this house. We could have taken rooms at the Grand Paris.”
Felix’s expression softened. “I know. I came because I wanted to, and I opened the house because I’d much rather live here than subject either of us to the scrutiny of living in a public hotel. Besides, New York had grown stale, and I know you enjoy your father’s company as little as I do, mine.”
Adrien snorted at that; both men knew the truth of that statement, and it needed no further discussion. Instead, he rolled from the bed and crossed to the large open windows to peer out at the people below. “How long do you think it will take for that circus to clear out?”
“The movers will be done by this evening.” Felix joined Adrien at the window, and gestured to the media personalities gathered just outside the gate with his chin. “The vultures will continue to circle until after we’ve shown ourselves, and some other society news comes along to distract them from us.”
“This is no better than New York was,” Adrien muttered, dismayed.
Felix grunted his agreement. “Honestly, it will probably be worse. We’re novel here. They’re going to dog us until the novelty wears off.”
“I guess it was unreasonable to think that I could just slip quietly back into town and go to university like everyone else.”
Felix arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. “I told you that it would have been better to let your father make an announcement.”
“No, no announcements! Then everyone will definitely know where to find me. This way, I at least have a chance at anonymity.”
“If you say so.” The smirk deepened, and amusement colored his tone.
“Killjoy.”
“Realist.”
“Come on, Fe. Let’s test it out.” Adrien turned to face him, his face lit with excitement. Felix raised his brow in question, and Adrien continued. “There’s a mixer at the university tonight, and we both need some fresh air.”
Felix shook his head. “We’ll never make it out the door without being mauled by that pack of rabid dogs.”
“Of course we will.” Adrien grinned, and Felix felt a prickle of unease at the expression. That smile always meant mischief. “I have a plan.”
“Marinette, Bridgette, there you are! I was starting to think that you’d bailed on us.”
“Of course not!” Marinette grinned, winking. “We just wanted to make an entrance, that’s all.”
“Entrance-schmentrance. Nettie had a wardrobe crisis that took forty-five minutes to resolve, and that was after she lost track of time and started getting ready late.”
“You’re dead to me, Bridgette.” Marinette deadpanned.
“You both need watches, but we all know you’d just lose them,” Alya interjected, smiling to take any sting out of the words. “But you both look amazing, so whatever it was that took so long, it was worth it.”
Marinette looked down at her red and black cropped halter top with a proud smile, then cocked her hip out to the side in an exaggerated pose. She’d paired the delicately crocheted halter with a pair of black, high-waisted skinny jeans that showed her petite figure to great advantage. She grinned and struck another pose.
“Looking good, Nettie!”
“Nino, hi! Thanks. I just finished the top this afternoon.”
“What am I, chopped liver?” Bridgette pouted, looking down at her own Marinette original. As the more demure of the two, she wore a shirred off the shoulder blouse and coordinating harem-style linen pants. “Marinette assured me that I hadn’t sacrificed style for comfort but now I’m thinking she must have deceived me.”
Nino laughed, and slipped his arm around Alya’s waist. “Hi, Bri. You’re lovely, too, and you know it.”
Bridgette abandoned the pout, and grinned instead. “I do, don’t I?”
Marinette looked Nino and Alya up and down, and nodded in satisfaction. “We all look good. We need to get gussied up more often.”
“Right? And we’ll have plenty of opportunity to do so. There are a ton of events coming up over the next few weeks!”
Marinette and Bridgette nodded excitedly, but Nino groaned. “And you girls are going to drag me to all of them, aren’t you?”
Alya snorted. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, babe.”
“Seriously.” Marinette gestured drily to the dancefloor, where women out numbered the men two- or three-to-one. “This is a veritable sea of nubile young women. How are you complaining?”
“Oh, that part is fine.” He smiled wolfishly, his gaze taking in all three of them. “Especially since I get three of the hottest women in here all to myself.”
Alya pinched him on the ass, and he jumped. “Down boy.”
He grinned unrepentantly. “This would be awesome if you guys didn’t make me get all dressed up. How am I supposed to be comfortable in this stiff, button-up nonsense?”
“Stop being melodramatic. I’ve slept in that shirt, remember? And I know you know how much I like it when you wear your sleeves rolled like this.”
His gaze darkened at that, and the sisters shared a knowing look.
“None of that, you two. You can go snog later.”
Bridgette nodded, and began dragging Nino to join the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor. “Right now, we want to dance!”
Marinette and Alya whooped their agreement and ushered him from behind.
He shrugged, allowing himself to be led. “Who am I to deny a trio of beautiful…” He trailed off, looking around as a ripple of murmurs swept through the room.
“Holy shit,” Marinette breathed, staring back the way they’d come. “It’s them.”
“What?” Nino asked, at the same time that Bridgette said, “Who?”
“Felix Agreste, and the Bourgeois heirs.”
Alya’s eyes bugged out, and her jaw dropped. “Fuck me, it is them! I didn’t recognize the guys at first, but that’s definitely Sabrina and Chloe.”
Marinette nodded. “I guess we know now who’s moving in to the Agreste mansion, Bri. But what are they doing here?”
Bridgette peered through the crowd, frowning. “Are you sure? They don’t look much like the pictures we saw earlier.”
“It’s them. I think they’re trying to lay low. I’ve never seen either of them so…” She trailed off, her head tilted to the side in consideration.
“Common?” Alya supplied, her brows raised. Then she giggled. “Here we are, all dressed to impress, and they come in here slumming it and still manage to look gorgeous.”
“I’m still here,” Nino cut in.
“Of course you are, babe.” She dragged her eyes away from the group still standing awkwardly near the front, and squeezed her boyfriend’s hand. “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten who I’m going home with tonight.”
“Fuck, he’s even hotter in person.”
“Bridgette Dupain-Cheng, don’t let our mother hear you talking like that!” Marinette jibed automatically, but her own eyes were drawn to Felix—and she couldn’t help agreeing with her sister.
“I think she’d forgive me just this once. I mean, look at that smile! He looks like such a sweet cinnamon roll and—oh shit, he’s looking this way!” Bridgette darted a glance at her sister. “Are you seeing this?”
Marinette nodded, watching as the new comers moved farther into the room. Around them, people went back to dancing and drinking and talking, though it was clear that many of them still had their eyes on the infamous socialite sisters and the young men trailing them.
With an effort, Marinette turned her back on them and started dancing. She’d come to have a good time with her friends, and by all appearances, so had Felix and Adrien. No matter how badly she wanted to introduce herself to Felix Agreste—both as the son of her fashion idol, and as an interesting and attractive person in his own right—she wasn’t going risk exposing him by drawing more attention his way. Besides, she couldn’t imagine that he would welcome any such interruption.
“I don’t think many people have recognized them,” she murmured to her friends later, when they’d left the dance floor for drinks and a bit of air. “And I think that those who have are afraid to approach them.”
“I don’t blame them.” Nino shuddered theatrically. “If they have any sense, they’re steering clear of the Bourgeois Brats and hoping they’ll terrorize someone else.”
Alya snickered. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Actually, I’m surprised that you haven’t gone over there, Nettie,” Bridgette said. You’ve never been intimidated by the Bourgeois girls before.”
“No, but I’ve also never gone out of my way to pick a fight with them, either.” She shrugged, and tried not to watch Chloe Bourgeois clinging familiarly to Felix’s arm. “They’re just…hanging out. It would be rude to butt in when they’ve gone out of their way to be circumspect.”
“That’s true,” Bridgette allowed. “But when will you get another chance to—“
Nino’s eyes widened comically and Marinette grinned mischievously. Don’t look now, Bri, but you’re going to get your wish. They’re headed this way, and Mr. Bed-Head seems to have his eye on you.”
“Nettie!” Bridgette froze, and Alya giggled. “Please tell me you’re joking!”
Marinette’s smile widened, and she shifted her focus to a point just past her sister’s shoulder. “Hi!” she offered, and was rewarded with a shy smile from none other than Adrien Bourgeois himself.
“Um, hi. I’m, um—“ He broke off with wide eyes, suddenly realizing that if he identified himself, that his anonymity would be lost.
“Welcome to join us for a drink,” Nino finished for him with a wink, making a space for Adrien between himself and Bridgette. Felix, who’d followed Adrien over, lingered just outside the group.
Alya leaned in conspiratorially, and Adrien did the same. “We recognized you when you came in,” she whispered, smiling reassuringly at his panicked expression.
Marinette leaned in as well. “Don’t worry, we haven’t outed you.” She nodded to his rough ensemble with a grin. “Love your disguise, by the way. You look like you just came from work.”
His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled back. “That was the idea!” he chirped happily.
Behind him, Felix scowled. “We smell like we just came from work, too.”
Bridgette giggled behind her hand, and Adrien turned to her with a blush. “I don’t smell that bad, do I?”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head “No! Not at all.”
He smiled charmingly. “So, if I asked you to dance with me, you might say yes?”
“You want to dance with me?” she squeaked, blushing hotly.
Marinette gave her a nudge. “That means yes,” she told Adrien, rolling her eyes. “It’s…Ren, right?”
“Ren? Oh! Yes! Ren!” Nino snickered, and Felix scoffed in apparent disgust. Adrien jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “The grump back there is Fe.”
“Well, Ren, I’m Marinette, and this is my big sister Bridgette.” She nudged her sister again, and then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “We all call her Bri.”
“I cannot believe you dragged me here, with your sisters no less!” Felix hissed at Adrien when he finally left Bridgette with her friends and returned to his own. Felix clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth furiously. “And then you abandon me to them so you can go off and dance with the only attractive woman in the whole room!
Adrien ducked his head sheepishly. “I didn’t know any other way to escape notice,” he said apologetically. “At least we did manage to evade the press.”
“Thank god for that,” Felix muttered darkly. “Though I feel compelled to point out that we could have done so without their help or attentions if we’d simply stayed put.”
“Come on, Fe! Where’s the fun in that?”
“Where’s the fun in drinking cheap liquor with sleazy people at a lame party while trying to avoid your grasping harpy of a sister?”
Adrien blinked at him, his expression disbelieving. “We are at a college party, in Paris, without body guards or paparazzi, surrounded by beautiful women in various stages of intoxication, and that ‘grasping harpy’ is the one who got you out here. Are you really complaining right now?”
Felix merely pursed his lips and glared out at the party as if it had personally offended him.
“Look, there’s Marinette, right there. She’s every bit as beautiful as Bri, and a damn good dancer to boot. Go, ask her to dance, have some fun, cut loose a little bit. I can’t stand to see you over here looking like a miserable thunder cloud.”
Felix glanced briefly at Marinette, then shook his head. “You’ve already staked a claim on the only good looking woman here, and I am in no mood to waste my time dancing with a girl who can’t find her own partners.” From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl stiffen and he fought the urge to wince guiltily. Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that, much less for her to hear it. Why did feeling awkward always make him surly and mean?
Adrien seemed to agree with his unspoken thought, because he was now frowning at him in disapproval. “Sometimes, Fe, I swear that you go out of your way to find things to be pissy about.”
“And sometimes I think you go out of your way to see only sunshine and rainbows,” Felix shot back, “no matter how foul the weather.” Adrien drew back, stung, and this time Felix did wince. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass. You go dance.”
“You know, Fe, you might actually make some new friends, if you gave people a chance.” Adrien clapped him on the arm, and then made his way back over to Bridgette’s group.
“I don’t blame you at all for not wanting to dance,” Chloe said, appearing at his elbow. “Especially not with her. Bridgette isn’t bad, but Marinette is just a bitch.”
Felix looked at her in surprise, wondering just how long she’d been standing there, and then her words actually sank in. “Wait, you know them?”
She nodded, her lip curled in distaste. “Her parents run the best boulangerie-patisserie in Paris, and it is the place to go for coffee. Both girls work in the café there.” Chloe sniffed disdainfully at the idea of working in a café, then continued. “Bridgette knows her place. Marinette does not.”
Felix felt his brows raise. In other words, Bridgette let Chloe run roughshod wherever she pleased, but Marinette did not. Felix acknowledged a grudging respect for the young woman. He glanced to where she’d been sitting a moment ago, but she was gone.
Are you gonna be continuing the Elementals fic?? I really wanna read it but I won’t be able to handle not knowing how it ends - I tend to only read things that are being updated or are finished lol
I will be coming back to it, but unfortunately, I have no timeline. I’ve just broken a long hiatus to start another new fic. Elementals is next on my list for an update.
Thanks for your interest! If you end up reading it, I hope you enjoy it!!
