Sabrina isn’t looking forward to prom without Chloé by her side. She didn’t consider that Zoé might understand better than anyone how she feels.
---------------------
Why does everyone say prom is the most magical night of high school?
No, really, it doesn’t make sense. Every television show with a prom that Sabrina has ever watched always ends in drama. It doesn’t matter that Sheldon says “I love you” to Amy if Howard is fistfighting Stuart for asking out Jeanie. Who cares if Fred and Daphne get to dance together - the ghost girl still tries to kill them! Kim has to leave to save the world and doesn’t get to the ‘Ron was perfect for me the whole time’ thing until after Eric is revealed as evil. Shouldn’t prom be the post-happily-ever-after celebration? You should get to go after getting your life together.
Of course Sabrina’s prom comes when she’s never felt less put-together. She’s not imaginative by any means, but she knows her classic literature, and she feels like the Little Mermaid in Hans Christian Andersen’s original work. The bitter realisation that Chloé’s love has always been conditional still stings.
Well.
It wasn’t really a realisation, was it?
Sabrina has always known Chloé’s love was conditional. Deep down.
It was really more admitting it to herself. Accepting it. Wishing it could have been different.
But it’s not different. Chloé does not want the Sabrina who is happy, who is reaching out for friendships and connection. She wants the old Sabrina who listened to her unconditionally, acted the part of the devoted lapdog, did everything she could to gain approval and acceptance. And even if she decided she did want who Sabrina is now, well, Sabrina’s not so sure she wants Chloé anymore.
And, well, that’s hard to get used to. After all, Chloé was everything to her for so long. It’s difficult to not run back to her and beg to turn back time.
But Sabrina’s Kwami is Barkk, not Fluff. Barkk represents Adoration - that is, love. And Sabrina has found herself happier learning to love herself than she was when she measured her worth by Chloé’s love.
But it means that, well, prom is… lonely.
Everywhere she looks, there are happy couples. Adrien and Marinette are alternating between slow-dancing and blushing at each other. Alya and Nino are as in tune with each other as ever, Nino somehow knowing the exact ratio of red punch to yellow punch Alya likes, while Alya is balancing two buffet plates, one of which is all Nino’s favourites and the other her own. Myléne and Ivan are talking and laughing with Luka Couffaine and his pretty dark-haired girlfriend - Sabrina thinks her name might be Carlotta; Alix and Max, ace-aro as they both are, have escorted each other in and are congratulating Kim and Ondine on being official; even Kagami is pink-cheeked and smiling with Adrien’s friend Wayhem. Juleka and Rose are dancing. Nathaniël is requesting a song from the DJ while Marc waits for him, smiling widely. Aurore is just entering, beaming like the sun, her pretty blonde girlfriend, Robbin, on her arm. Mirielle and Jean are feeding each other cocktail shrimp at the buffet table.
There are only two people missing from the scene.
Lila is lighting up the groupchat with insistence that her ‘millionaire boyfriend’ is running late in picking her up and that she will absolutely be there. Given that her ‘generous offer’ to have Clara Nightingale sing at their prom fell through at the last minute, and somehow there was a ‘mistake’ with her ‘Gabriel original’ ‘free’ prom dress that meant she ‘had’ to buy a different dress at full price, Sabrina is not exactly inclined to believe her.
Chloé is nowhere to be seen.
Not, of course, that Sabrina’s ‘dancing together declaration of love’ fantasy was going to be fulfilled even if she was here.
She needs some air.
Sabrina pushes through the hall into the foyer, avoiding the eyes of the few stragglers still out here as she tries not to run for the door.
She just always secretly, subconsciously dreamed that maybe, just maybe, the whole ‘prom is the most magical night of our lives’ thing might come true for her and Chloé.
The night air is like a slap. Sabrina can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.
She decides that it will be a good thing as she leans against the wall. After all, deciding that ambiguous things were going to be good things is how she’s survived most of her life. Like when her parents split up. Two Christmases. Or when her class schedule couldn’t accommodate both History and Physics. More time to study for History.
Like Chloé.
“Oh, thank god, I’m not the last one out here!”
Sabrina looks up at the voice, which is familiar, yet not familiar, yet definitely familiar. It’s Zoé.
Chloé’s sister.
Chloé is nowhere in sight.
Good thing, Sabrina decides.
“Wow, Zoé, you look great!” she says, and means it.
Zoé does that cheerful little pocket-wiggle girls do when their outfit gets complimented. She’s forgone a dress in favour of a fitted black velvet tuxedo jacket and glittery rose-gold leggings, her ever-present beret and converse exchanged for a bowler hat with a ribbon that matches her leggings and sparkly black pumps with ankle straps. In other words, she’s the definition of ‘stylish’, and in comparison, Sabrina feels very overdressed, her turquoise tulle skirt suddenly overly fussy and her green wrap cardigan with its little pink bow seems to be trying too hard. Chloé would have thought so.
But Zoé is not Chloé, and she beams. “Thanks! So do you - I love your shoes!”
Sabrina automatically glances down at the little pink bows on her green mary-janes. “Thanks!” she hears herself say. “I got them online - I was a little worried they would arrive in the wrong size…”
What is happening? Zoé should surely be criticising Sabrina’s outfit right now. It’s what Chloé would do.
Zoé is not Chloé.
Maybe this time Sabrina won’t have to decide that that’s a good thing.
Zoé gestures to the doors. “Do you want to head in, then?”
Sabrina wants to nod. But the thought feels overwhelming.
“I was just getting some air,” she croaks out. “I’ll head back in in a minute… you should go in though, it’s ok -”
“I can wait with you, if you want?”
If Sabrina wants? What is she supposed to say to that? No one ever asks her what she wants - well, not in this way. She’s usually just told. I’ll wait with you. I’m going back in. We’re going in now, together. Fine, stay out here and make us both look like losers.
But Zoé’s face is open and earnest, and maybe Sabrina would like the company.
And so she nods. “That would be nice, thanks…”
Zoé leans against the wall next to Sabrina, effortlessly cool in a way Sabrina herself could never manage.
“So, are you here yourself, or -?” Sabrina asks, her voice trailing off before she means it to.
Zoé seems to know what she means even without Sabrina finishing the question. “I don’t know if she’s coming,” she says softly. “She started yelling at Andre when she found out she couldn’t ban me from the prom. I slipped out while I still had the chance.”
There’s a slight frown on her face, but it clears and brightens in a millisecond, and she changes the subject.
“So, no date tonight?” she asks, but it’s not mean. Her voice is friendly.
“No,” Sabrina replies, shocked at how easy it is to answer Zoé. “Never really thought about who I might want to take to prom.” That’s a lie, but the truth is painful, and Sabrina isn’t going to unload that onto Zoé, who is clearly just being nice, not probing.
Zoé chuckles. “Yeah, me neither. Doesn’t help that most of the ladies in our school are either taken or painfully heterosexual.”
Sabrina blinks. “You’re -?”
Zoé laughs. “Come on, how many straight girls do you know who can rock this haircut?” she asks teasingly.
That is a fair point.
“That is a fair point,” Sabrina repeats aloud. “I think I’d just subconsciously filed it away as a culture difference.”
“Have you ever been to New York?”
“Yes I have, what’s your point?”
They both burst out laughing. Sabrina’s heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.
“There was a boy I met in New York,” Sabrina confesses softly. “He’s one of the few people I’ve ever really liked. Like, like-liked. One of three, I think.”
“Who were the other two?”
“Marinette, for a bit -”
“Valid and understandable.”
“And…” Sabrina trails off. She doesn’t want to say it. Saying it to Zoé means admitting it to someone besides her journal.
She can’t admit it.
But Zoé seems to understand.
“I’m sorry,” she says gently, and seems to mean it. “You deserve better.”
Sabrina’s jaw drops at this. “She’s your sister!” And then her jaw drops again, because it’s the first time she’s said it out loud - ever.
Zoé shrugs. “This isn’t The Godfather. Family isn’t the be-all or end-all.”
And Sabrina realises that out of everyone she knows, Zoé probably knows better than ever how Chloé has hurt Sabrina. Knows what it’s like to desire that love that is completely and utterly conditional. Chloé made it clear from the beginning that her love for her sister hinged on how alike they were, and vanished when it became obvious that they were not alike at all.
Zoé isn’t Chloé. But she’s been hurt by Chloé.
Zoé isn’t Chloé, and that’s a good thing. And for once, Sabrina doesn’t have to rationalise it at all.
“Do you want to go in?” she asks Zoé. Zoé grins.
“Sure.”
And, so casually she has to have done it before, she offers Sabrina her arm. Sabrina takes it.
“Did you ever see that episode of Sabrina the Teenage Witch where they go to a prom-type thing?” Zoé asks conversationally as they head through the doors. Sabrina shakes her head.
“Chloé never wanted to watch it. She found it weird that the main character had the same name as me.”
“Pity,” Zoé sniffs, still grinning. “We could’ve reenacted the scene where Sabrina and Harvey dance together outside.”
There and then, Sabrina vows to herself to find and watch the episode as soon as she gets home tonight.
Just for research purposes, you understand.
And her cheeks are only pink because the inside is so much warmer than the outside.
The dance floor is full when they get back to the hall, the end of Flo Rida’s ‘Low’ just trailing off. Sabrina is a little sorry to have missed it. It’s the kind of song where you get included, even if it’s just to risk your ankles attempting to slut-drop. Maybe it’ll come on again later. Hey, maybe she can request it to play again. There’s no one stopping her tonight.
The thought makes her slightly giddy, and she notices a moment too late that everyone is pairing off with their dates as the soft opening chords of Taylor Swift’s ‘Enchanted’ begin to drift out over the floor. It’s a slow-dance song.
One she’s dreamed of dancing to at prom for ages.
Hmm. Maybe Sabrina is tired of pushing away her dreams. And so she offers a hand to Zoé.
“Would you like to dance?” she asks. After all, Zoé had stipulated she wanted to go with someone who was neither taken nor heterosexual.
And Sabrina is neither of those things.
Zoé looks pleasantly surprised. “Yes, I would,” she says, smiling, and takes Sabrina’s hand as Taylor Swift’s gentle vocals fill the room.
All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you…
Hmm. Maybe prom is going to be a little magical after all.
Nora Césaire, tall, strong and beautiful, has a sensitive, insecure side that she tries to hide from everyone.
Jalil Kubdel, diligent student, historian and archaeologist, loses his capacity to think when he bumps into Nora.
What happens when such opposites meet? Well, a school party and a painfully oblivious couple of teenagers may help them find out.
This is my July participation for the @mlwritersguild, fulfilling an anonymous request for the Noralil pairing. Thanks to @adventuremaker21 for the beta read.
It all began on a perfect, sunny Saturday afternoon.
The graduating classes of the Françoise Dupont school were hosting a Family Day. There were art exhibits, coffee, art auctions, food stands, and school newspapers for sale. They even had live music, with Kitty Section playing soft bossa nova ballads, instead of their signature hard rock. The students were enthusiastic, and most of them had their whole families there.
Alix waited by the door for her father and brother to arrive, excited as she was to show them her art installation: a mural mixing urban graffiti with Ancient Egypt designs and pictograms.
“Hmm, yes, Alix. Very well done,” her father said, as he tapped her shoulder. “I really like your work. I might even use it for the Museum’s next youth guide!”
“Wow, Dad! That would be so cool!” She hugged her dad, as her brother, Jalil, examined the graffiti more closely.
“Are you sure, Dad? There are a few errors in these hieroglyphs…”
“Don’t be a spoilsport, Jalil!” M. Kubdel scolded. “This is a great project, and you should be proud of your sister.”
Jalil sulked and walked away from his family to go look at the other exhibitions.
Blah blah blah! You should be proud of your sister. You should be proud of me, too, Dad!
He knew it was unreasonable to be jealous, he was an adult now! So what, if Alix was his favourite? He was the one actually studying History and Archaeology to follow in his father’s footsteps. No, he would surpass him! He’d be—
Jalil was so caught up with his thoughts, he bumped into another person. He looked up to apologise… and kept looking up.
“E-excuse me, I—”
“No, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
His brain stopped working when he got a good look at the person he bumped into.
She was a tall, strong and beautiful woman, dressed in a ruby red off-shoulder top and skin-tight black shorts, showing off her toned muscles and tiny waist.
“G-goddess…” Jalil whined, then dry swallowed and cleared his throat. “I mean, GOSH, yes, I’m fine! Are you alright?”
She chuckled, and Jalil went weak at the knees.
“Of course I am!” She smiled and flexed her muscles. “It takes more than that to knock me down!”
Jalil whimpered an imperceptible reply.
“Excuse me, I have to go.” She ran across the school patio as she shouted. “Ella! Etta! Get your hands off that cake!”
“Huh? Bye?”
“No!”
“Please?”
“NO!”
Jalil actually knelt down at Alix’s feet with pleading hands.
“Please! I promise I’ll never ask you for anything again!”
“You’re a grown-ass man, Jalil. You find a way to talk to her.”
“How? I don’t even know her name, or where she hangs out!”
“Fine! Her name is Nora.”
“Nora…” Jalil repeated in a dreamy voice. “What a beautiful name.”
Ugh! I just made him worse, Alix thought.
“You have to set us up, my dear little sister… I’ll do all your chores for a month!”
Alix looked at him, smirking.
“Three months!”
“Two months… and I’ll do your History homework.”
“Deal!”
It wasn’t long before the tables were turned, as Alix begged Alya for help.
“You have to help me, Alya! He won’t shut up about Nora… he’s writing poems for her! And then he sings them, playing that awful drum of his, all day and all night!”
Alya tapped her chin in deep thought. At first she thought Alix was pulling a prank on her. How could Jalil, the impish bookworm, be interested in her super strong, kick-boxer sister?
Then again, maybe it was true. The heart works in mysterious ways, as she very well knew.
Nora had been dumped by her training partner a few months ago — his fragile masculinity couldn’t handle getting his ass kicked by his girlfriend every day. Maybe it would be good for her sister to be wooed properly, with poems and songs. From what she knew of Jalil, he was a really good guy, in a nerdy-cool kind of way. He was dedicated to his family and fanatic about his interests, just like Nora.
Alix’s voice interrupted her musings.
“I’ll do anything you want, just… help me!”
Alya twisted her lips into a wicked grin and tapped her chin.
“Anything, huh?”
“Well…” Alix replied, narrowing her eyes. “Anything within reason!”
Alya cracked her knuckles and bent down to look Alix in the eyes.
“So… Shorty? What do you have in mind?”
“Just… introduce them, or… or set them up on a date, and let Jalil do the rest!”
Nora finished getting dressed and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Maybe playing chaperone won’t be so bad, she thought.
She had to admit, she looked good in this dress. Usually she just wore training clothes or comfy shorts and baggy t-shirts. It was hard to find nice clothes that suited her: regular sizes didn’t fit her, and plus sizes were designed to hide big bodies instead of showing them off. She always got upset after she went shopping, looking at endless pretty clothes that would never fit her, only to end up getting ugly stuff from the man’s section.
One day, after one of those excruciating shopping trips, Alya suggested commissioning her friend, Marinette, and she was a true godsend — she’d been so nice to her all this time! Always patient when taking her measurements, making sure to use elasticised fabrics, so they could adapt to her muscles whether she was in competition season or on a calmer period with less training. All while making feminine, practical clothes.
Little Baguette was definitely an impressive seamstress, but Nora’s dress for the school graduation party was a masterpiece. She looked amazing in her jade green, draped satin dress, and the plunging halter neckline and thigh-high slit made her feel confident, feminine and sexy.
With Alya’s help, she styled her dreads into a bun and enhanced her honey-coloured eyes with green glittery eyeshadow, and painted her generous lips with bright red lipstick.
Alya’s dress was a Marinette creation too — a short, fitted little number, where the true standout was the colour: bright, almost fluorescent, orange.
When the sisters walked out of Alya’s room, the twins jumped on them.
“Nora! Nora! You look like a Hollywood star!”
“Can I wear that lipstick, too?”
“You look pretty, too, Alya!”
“Can I borrow your dress?”
“Come on, girls, let us go, or we’ll be late,” Alya scolded, trying to keep a straight face.
After prying the twins’ hands off, they went downstairs, where a limousine was waiting for them.
“Alya, how did you—”
Nino came out of the limo for them to go in, guiding them in by the hand. There were more people inside: she knew the model kid — oh right, he’s rich, this must be his car; Marinette sitting next to him, pretty in a rose-coloured dress and rosier cheeks; the pink-hair little girl — Alice? Alex? She knew it was similar to her sister’s name; and an older guy she hadn’t met.
Alya sat next to Marinette, with Nino on her other side. Nora took the only empty seat, next to the other guy.
“You know Alix’s brother, don’t you, Nora?” Alya said in a sing-song voice.
Nora looked at the man by her side, who was offering his hand for her to shake.
“Jalil… I bumped into you the other day.”
She took his hand and shook it vigorously.
“Oh, yeah… Family Day, right?”
Jalil smiled as he retrieved his hand, flexing his fingers.
“Yeah, right. Nice to meet you again, Nora.”
He was kind of cute, in his black suit and tie, matching his lovely blue eyes. His long red hair was tied up in a ponytail.
“Thanks again for agreeing to this, Nora and Jalil!” Marinette said, after some moments of silence. “It’s thanks to you that our whole class can go to the party.”
“It’s cool, Baguette,” Nora smiled. “You kids are almost eighteen anyway, I’m sure you’ll behave…” she made a serious face and punched her left palm with her right hand. “Right?”
The younger crew collectively gulped and nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jalil gulp and nod too.
The conditions for the party had been set by the class parents’ association: no alcohol, no substances, at least an adult chaperone present at all times, and no funny business. Jalil wasn’t sure about that last part — it would be impossible to control a bunch of hormonal teens in their last class party.
When Alix asked him to chaperone, he almost turned it down, but quickly changed his mind when she said Nora would be there, too.
Now here he was, sitting next to her in a limousine, reminding himself he ought to breathe. If Nora looked good on the day they met, tonight she looked fantastic! Sitting next to such a beauty, legs and shoulders touching when the car took a turn, having her smile at him and shake his hand… he was in heaven.
If tonight went well, he’d be thankful to Alix forever. Even if he had to do her chores for the next months… Nora was worth it.
The limousine pulled up at the Hotel Grand Paris. The party would be on the top floor and terrace.
Being closer to the door, Jalil exited the car before Nora and offered his hand to help her out. Not that she needed any help, he was just being gentlemanly, as he saw the other boys do with their girls.
It was early, so the party hadn’t started yet. They couldn’t all fit in the lift, so Jalil and Nora let the kids go up first. After all, it was their party.
Only after the doors closed did he realise he was in an enclosed space with the person who’d inhabited his dreams for a few weeks now. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, trying to make himself look taller.
“You, erm… I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but… you look very pretty tonight, Nora,” Jalil started.
Nora looked a little embarrassed by the compliment, but not in a bad way.
“Why…” she pulled a stray dreadlock behind her ear. “Thank you, Jalil. You look nice, too.”
Yes! Jalil fist-pumped internally, thankful that Alix’s friend, Adrien, loaned him a suit and helped him with his look.
The doors opened to the terrace. It was all decorated with banners and paper lanterns made by the class. Nino was already setting up his DJ table, with Alya helping with the wires. His sister was already jumping in and out of the pool, which was filled with balls for the occasion. The other two kids seemed to be talking and appreciating the view from the railed balcony.
“So… uh… how do we do this?” Jalil asked.
“I don’t know, I never did this before,” Nora answered with a laugh. “I guess we let the kids have fun and try to enjoy the party too.”
“Well, they’re good kids, most of them anyway. I’m sure we’ll survive the night.”
“Haha! You’re funny, Jalil.”
His heart swelled with her compliment, and he wanted to hear her loud and raspy laughter some more.
They found a table near the bar and sat down for their duty. The other official chaperone was the hotel’s head butler, who was in charge of serving the drinks while keeping an eye out for any contraband.
Nora fanned herself with her purse after a while.
“Can I get you a drink, Nora?” Jalil asked.
“Sure. Surprise me.”
He nodded and approached the bar, where Jean was filling champagne flutes with non-alcoholic cider. After some consideration, Jalil picked a water bottle and put it in his pocket, then took two bubbly flutes.
“Mademoiselle,” he said, handing Nora her drink with exaggerated formality.
“Ooh la la,” she said as she took a sip of her drink, “I see they have the good stuff here.”
They shared a laugh as they drank. Conversation flowed easily between them, and they almost forgot what they were there for. By now, more kids had arrived, and the party was in full blast.
“We should let ourselves be seen,” Nora said. “Let’s take a stroll around the terrace. You go left, I go right.”
Jalil was a bit pained by the plan, but nodded and stood up.
As he expected, everyone was in their best behaviour. Some teens were dancing, others goofing around (there was Alix’s silly friend Kim, having some kind of push-up bet with another boy), but they all seemed to be having a good time.
Well, maybe not everyone. One of the girls was leaning against the railing, hiding her head in her arms.
“Marinette, are you alright?” Jalil asked. She was one of Alix’s best and oldest friends, so he’d come to see her almost as a family member. She looked like she’d been crying.
“Jalil!” She snapped straight up and turned her face away, trying to wipe away some tears. “I’m fine! Just f-fine!”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really… but thank you.”
Jalil didn’t quite know what to do, so he gave her a few consoling taps on her shoulder and kept walking. Spotting Alya dancing close by, he pointed out to her that her friend might need her.
He walked on, after a few stern looks at a couple getting too frisky while making out, and some boys being too rowdy. Halfway around the terrace, he crossed paths with Nora, and was once again blown over by her beauty. Her dress floated around her body in the summer breeze, and her smile lit up the night.
“All clear?” Jalil asked, when they met.
“All is well!” Nora replied.
Nora felt a little dizzy when she got up for her lookout, even if the champagne was fake. Jalil was a cute little guy, polite and knowledgeable. They’d talked about their interests, finding common ground in things like French hip-hop and old adventure movies. She was sure they’d be very good friends after this, but didn’t dare think about taking it any further. She reminisced about her ex and how some men could feel threatened by her.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by a sad, soft melody, which she could hear despite the booming dance music. It came from the white grand piano, a few steps further.
Nora approached the piano to find the model boy — Adrien, playing. He stopped when he saw her approaching.
“Don’t stop,” she smiled at him.
He nodded and resumed his song.
“Everything okay there, kid?”
“I… I think I just broke my friend’s heart.”
“Marinette?” Nora asked, concerned. “Did she finally manage to confess her love?”
“Wait… you knew?”
Nora gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder.
“Everyone in Paris knows, Adrien.”
“Then how could I be so blind?”
“You… don’t love her back, huh?”
“No, I mean… yes, but not—”
“How can anyone not love Marinette? You’re so weird.”
Nora was well aware of the whole situation. Whenever the girl gang had a sleepover at their apartment, they made sure to include her in the games and conversations.
“I… do love her… but I’ve been in love with someone else for a long time.”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
Adrien dropped his head onto the piano keys, producing an almost comical sound.
“Think about it, kid. Don’t let her get away from you… again.”
She ruffled his hair and walked away, reaching the other side of the terrace in a few steps. When she saw Jalil walking towards her, she couldn’t help but smile.
“All clear?” Jalil asked.
“All is well!” she replied.
They walked back to their table together. The party was at its peak, Nino’s beats at their fastest, and almost everyone was dancing. Nora turned to Jalil.
“Do you want to dance? I feel like dancing!”
“I—” Jalil started, momentarily surprised, then smiled and nodded.
Jalil swayed awkwardly, snapping his fingers to the beat and singing along. He couldn’t take his eyes off Nora. The way she moved her perfectly toned legs, rocked her hips with her arms in the air, and totally lost herself in the songs, were absolutely hypnotising.
They danced a few songs before heading back to their table.
“I really needed that!” Nora sighed, as she sat down.
Jalil, still panting from the effort, took a sip from his water bottle.
“I hope that’s water and not vodka, young man,” she joked as he drank.
“O-of course it’s water!” Jalil replied.
“I’m kidding you. I know you wouldn’t do that!”
Jalil sighed in relief, then wet his finger in the water and flicked it in her direction. Nora feigned indignation.
“Why, I never—”
Both broke out in laughter, then resumed their animated conversation from before.
It was the best night in Jalil’s life.
It was almost time for the party to end. The music changed to a calm, pre-recorded playlist, so that Nino could hang out with his friends, too. A few couples were slow-dancing in the moonlight.
Nora noticed Adrien and Marinette dancing together.
“Aww, look at them,” she cooed. “Looks like they worked things out.”
Jalil followed her line of sight to see the young couple. Adrien was cupping Marinette’s face and speaking to her, then he leaned in to kiss her.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Finally.”
“I know, right? Four years those two danced around each other, can you believe it?”
“I know, Alix used to tell me all about the shenanigans to help her confess.”
“I can’t believe he never figured it out… what a waste of time.”
“Indeed.”
Jalil was lost in his thoughts for a few minutes, then turned to Nora.
“I… I don’t want to waste time,” he said, putting a hand on top of hers. “Please go out with me… on a date.”
Nora looked at him, a little confused, but didn’t remove her hand. Encouraged, Jalil continued.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ve been thinking about you since the day we first met, but tonight, talking to you, dancing with you, making you laugh… I want us to do that again!”
“Okay.” Nora replied.
“Okay?”
Jalil held her hand tighter, with a smile of pure happiness, as she put her other hand on top of his.
“Okay! I don’t want to waste time, either,” Nora said.
Nora pulled him closer to her and planted a kiss on his lips.
The @mlwritersguild June 2021 challenge was to create bonus content for one of our fics. Here’s my second participation.
Below is the playlist that helped me write this story, mainly soundtracks of Austen adaptations and other instrumentals that fit the mood.
Austenian
About the fic:
Summary: Success for a young woman in 1820 means learning arts, grace and elegance, in the hopes of securing a good marriage proposal. Marinette Dupain’s dreams, on the contrary, are full of adventure, intrigue, gothic realms and handsome heroes.
One night, Marinette catches the eye of the eligible bachelor Adrien Agreste. She is instantly smitten by his character and charm. Could he be her hero? However, the more she learns about the Agreste family, the more it seems that even the walls have secrets.
"Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery".
Charles Caleb Colton
When two of my favourites collide, you get a Miraculous Jane Austen AU.
The action takes place in Paris, Vichy and Rouen, and later than the original: around 1820, after the end of the Napoleonic wars.
I wrote this because I believe the original, Northanger Abbey, is an early form of fanfiction, not for any work in particular, but the several gothic novels it mentions.
This month’s @mlwritersguild challenge was to create bonus content for one of our fics. Here’s my participation.
Playlist
About the story
This story was written in 2019 as a Secret Santa gift to @hari-writes, shortly after I began writing fanfiction. I decided to set it in London because Hari lives not too far from there.
Additionally, I worked and lived in England for some time back in 1994-1995, when I was 20-21. It was just such a life-changing experience! I lived close to London and spent most of my weekends exploring the city. You can really spend a lifetime there and have something new to visit every day.
I was there over Christmastime, and it was just magic: the street lights, the elaborate department store windows, the street markets, the shopping! I had lots of fun writing this, revisiting my favourite places and even threw in some actual memories of mine!
In the end, this story turned out to be my little love letter to London.
About the cover
Four Weddings and A Funeral was released in 1994, shortly after I moved to England, and it was everywhere! Hugh Grant was in every magazine cover and the movie was, well, all around. I’ve been a fan of its writer Richard Curtis since Black Adder, and I love his romantic comedies, so Love Actually was in my mind when writing this.
Designed by me, based on the Love Actually poster. London skyline illustration by G Lopez on Pixabay. Screenshots from the Fandom Wiki Galleries.
About the playlist
The playlist I created is an eclectic mix of some of my old favourites from those years: songs that take me back to the time I spent in England (the Great Blur-Oasis Britpop war — look it up), a little something from ML, plus my ‘best-of’ Richard Curtis romcom soundtracks. The Love Actually song isn’t available on Spotify, but you can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Jo08wyCdUg —yes, it’s bad, it’s supposed to be! And of course, The Clash’s London Calling because it’s a freaking classic.
“Wait, when was the last time you slept, Marinette?”
“A few days. Haven’t slept... for a few days... Work to do… Black coffee… Monster drinks... Caffeine in blood…”
“I am totally sure the last thing was other way round."
@miraculousfanworks Fulfilled for a prompt in @mlwritersguild!
Read the story under the cut!
“Marinette, it’s 4.30 A.M. in the morning! You need to sleep!”
“Just one more stitch, Tikki,” the girl mumbled to her kwami as she focused on the dress she was trying, trying to get the golden embroidery completed. Kagami’s birthday was in two days and Marinette wanted to give something to her new friend. Hence, she had decided to make the fencer a nice red jacket with black accents, and with a beautiful golden dragon embroidered on it. And she really wasn’t in a mood to mess her hard work up.
“But Marine--”
“Just a second, Tikki…” the girl gritted out before letting out a whoop of joy. “There! It’s done! How does it look like?”
The designer turned the mannequin to show her little friend the final result. The red jacket with its black trims and buttons looked pretty simple. However, it was the majestic dragon that gave the jacket its signature look. It started from the left breast pocket, occupied most of the jacket’s behind and ended with its tail curling near the right hip.
“Wow Marinette, it looks just as if the dragon is embracing and protecting the wearer of the jacket!” Tikki commented, running her hand along the jacket’s embroidery. The golden thread glimmered under the kwami of creation’s touch.
“Thanks Tikki, and now,” the girl let out a long yawn as her eyes drooped. “I guess it’s finally time for a good nap.”
“Yes Marinette!” The kwami chirped, flitting around her chosen’s head in concern. “You haven’t had a proper sleep for a few days. That’s not good for you!”
“I know, I know Tikki, but…” the girl paused as she tried to get her bearings, her hand on the railing to hold herself steady. “There have been just so many commissions for Jagged and Kitty Section, and then the class presidential duties, and let’s not forget Hawk Moth--”
“Along with which you also took it upon yourself to make Kagami a birthday present and babysat Manon for a day, I know!” Tikki completed her statement for her. “That’s why I’m saying, you need to sleep.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m just going to do that,” Marinette sleepily chuckled “Gonna climb the stairs and just flop down on my bed and--”
The moment she lay her head on her pillow, she immediately shot up, eyes bugged out in horror.
“What happened, Marinette?”
The frantic girl yanked at her pigtails as a crazed look appeared in her eyes. “Tikki, I forgot to complete the Literature homework due today!”
*************************************
“Cesaire, Alya?”
“Present!”
“Dupain-Cheng, Marinette?”
There was a silence in the room.
“Dupain-Cheng, Marinette?” Ms. Bustier called the name out again, looking up from her register.
Alya raised her hand. “Um, Ms. Bustier, Marinette’s still not here and--”
“Present!”
Immediately the classroom door slammed open as someone dropped on the classroom floor with a yelp. Papers went flying by and the students in the classroom got up to find Marinette sprawled out on the ground, grumbling something incoherent.
She quickly sat up and started to assemble her papers. Adrien and Nino got down to help her as the others went back to what they were doing. Thanking the two guys quietly, Marinette marched up to Ms.Bustier’s desk and slammed the papers down on her table.
“The homework that was due for today, Ms. Bustier. Complete with detailed analysis of the scene that we studied yesterday.”
The teacher took in Marinette’s appearance and tentatively nodded in response, immediately to cringe a bit at the maniac smile that the girl gave her. With a skip in her step, Marinette walked over to her desk and plopped down in her seat beside Alya.
As Ms. Bustier continued taking the attendance in the background, Alya leant into Marinette’s space, holding her hand up in a whispering notion. “M, what the heck? Your hair’s a bird’s nest, your eyes bloodshot and the dark circles make you look like a ghost. What the hell have you been doing?”
Marinette hummed distractedly as she dug into her backpack, before pulling out a big can of Monster energy drink, causing her best friend’s eyes to bug out. “Oh nothing much, just homework,” she nonchalantly spoke, waving her hand as she took in a big gulp of the drink.
“Just…. Homework, you say?” Alya eyed her friend as she continued to drink. Clearly Marinette needed some help, for no normal teenager should be drinking that .
“Yeah, and a bit of designing. Woke up a bit late but thankfully managed to get a croissant and two cups of black coffee.” Marinette put the drink down and wiped at her lips. Alya peered into the can. It was half-finished.
“Girl, are you sure you don’t want to have a heart attack?”
“Mhmm,” Marinette grinned at her manically and Alya decided then and there that her best friend did not need just some help.
She needed some serious help.
***********************************************
“Okay class,” Ms. Bustier clapped her hands, gaining the students’ attention. “Since today’s lecture was based on stress management and relaxation, I want you all to write something about your life. It doesn’t have to be long: a short paragraph or poem also works!”
The children scrambled to get their supplies out and started working on the task assigned to them. Satisfied with having kept the students busy, Ms.Bustier sat down at her desk and started going through her paperwork.
Five minutes later, a paper was put on her desk.
The teacher looked up to find a weary Marinette looking at her expectantly. Smiling at the student, Ms. Bustier took the paper and turned it, letting out a gasp.
“Marinette, what is the meaning of this?” She asked the girl, pointing at the random squiggles and scribblings that filled the paper.
Marinette shrugged as she swayed a bit. “You asked us to write something about our life. Well, that’s me, a total sleep-deprived mess.”
“You haven’t been having proper sleep, dear?” The girl responded with a small shake of her head.
“Okay.” The teacher immediately signed a note and handed it to Marinette. “Take this to the nurse and she will give you the permission to rest for the day. Grab a proper sleep, it is important for your health.”
Marinette gave her teacher a small smile of gratitude and a thumbs up before grabbing the note and moving out of the room. Sighing in relief at having helped a student, Ms. Bustier started to get back to grading the homework.
The thudding sound of someone falling down the stairs made her run outside the class, to find Marinette staggering quickly (and wearily) in the direction of the nurse’s office.
****************************************
Being in bed was a wonderful feeling, Marinette decided that day.
After having completed the homework, she had gotten to sleep at 6.00 A.M., only to be rudely woken up by her alarm at 7. The dark coffee and the Monster drink had got her through the first half of the day, but by the time Ms. Bustier had suggested them all to write something about their life, Marinette had been done with.
Her brain had come to an abrupt stop and she couldn’t think of anything except squiggled and wiggled and incomprehensible stuff. So when Ms.Bustier had granted her the permission to actually gain some rest for the day, Marinette had been very excited.
A bit too excited to not look where she had been going and end up tripping down the last set of stairs.
But having a bruised ankle only solidified the reasons for her rest, so she wasn’t sorry.
She closed her eyes and curled into herself, waiting for sleep to kick in. Given her state, sleep could ambush her any time. And she was very much willing to invest this time in her favorite pastime.
Dreaming of emerald eyes that twinkle in mirth. Cologne that made adrenaline rush through her bld. And blond hair that shone like the sun.
Right now she hated the sun.
Sadly, she ditched the dream in a dark corner of her mind and started to focus on her breathing, waiting for sleep to grab her in her embrace.
Just in a moment.
Just a moment more.
...
Maybe one more moment?
Marinette tossed in her bed with a groan. Why was she not sleepy?
The can of Monster energy drink winked at her from her backpack.
Stupid energy drinks, kicking in at the wrong time.
Marinette wanted to sob and cry and wail at her fate. Why did the universe hate her?
As if answering her pleas, the nurse turned on some soft music in the room. Music that was soft and sweet and serene and calming and relaxing.
Relaxing and soothing like the music that accompanied the smell of the ocean. Ocean… that reminded her of deep blue eyes. Framed by a mop of dark hair.
Darkness was welcomed, for it made her totally drowsy .
Marinette sighed in relief. Yeah, she could dream about soft music and ocean and deep eyes and mysterious smiles and--
The alarm on her phone blared suddenly, causing her to shoot up in bed as she spoke in a language so colourful, it would have made a real sailor blush.
The akuma news feed flashed on her phone in a deep red.
Marinette vowed to herself to not rest till she kicked some moth butt that day.
********************************************
“Watch out Ladybug!”
The warning came a bit too late. The pink beam hit the red and black spotted heroine square in the chest, and immediately she felt a wave of drowsiness crash over her.
The akuma, Sleeping Beauty, stole people’s sleep or made them drowsy, depending on the rested state of their mind.
Ladybug was totally done.
Done with the stupid akuma, done with the old looney toon of a butterfly supervillain, done with the ever-conspiring universe.
She just wanted a wink of a peaceful sleep. One that was not akuma-induced. Could she not even get that?
She simply wanted to get over with this quickly.
“Lucky Charm!”
A big carton of Monster Energy Drinks dropped into her hands.
Sadly, the cans were sealed tight and not meant for drinking purposes, as the notice on the top of it said.
She looked at the carton and at the rampaging akuma. The carton shone first, then the akuma’s head.
Such a nice plan.
Simple.
Easy.
Executable.
She hauled the carton over her head.
“Take that, you mangy akuma!”
And summoning all her strength, she yeeted the heavy box at its target.
The carton flew. Chat followed its line of motion with his eyes.
A resounding thud.
The akuma dropped. Ladybug fell to her knees.
“You okay, Ladybug?” Chat was by her side immediately as she panted in exhaustion.
“I am f-fine,” she managed to grit out.
A Cataclysm later, Ladybug tossed the carton once again, this time weakly, into the air with a cry of “Miraculous Ladybug!”.
The magical ladybugs fixed everything. Everything except Ladybug’s exhaustion.
She really wanted to drop dead from exhaustion right now.
“Milady, are you really sure you are okay?” Chat asked once more, looking at his ring worriedly as it beeped.
“As okay as a sleepwalking zombie,” she said with a thumbs up.
Chat stayed a little longer by her side, before vaulting away.
Ladybug gathered all of her strength and pushed herself up on her feet. She trudged forward and finally broke into a sprint.
She had to scale that gap in the buildings in front of her. She crouched. She leaped.
Her Miraculous beeped the final time before the magical suit faded away.
Oh darn.
**********************************************
Luka came up from behind the dumpster, brushing dust off his jacket. He made a way for his bike, when a yelp from above caught his attention.
The next thing he knew, Marinette was in his arms. And he was breathing as heavily as her.
“Marinette? What were you -- wait, how did you end up THERE?!”
“I-I-” she looked around with wide eyes, before letting out a breathless chuckle. “I was parkouring!”
“In the midst of an akuma attack? From that height? What were you thinking?!” He asked worriedly, his tone going an octave higher.
Marinette gripped his denim jacket and looked up at him with teary eyes. “I just...I--I am sorry!”
“Hey hey, don’t cry, oof calm down Melody,” Luka awkwardly shifted her a bit in his arms, patting her back slowly. He started walking towards where he had parked his cycle.
She curled into him, gripping his jacket as she snuggled.in deep. ‘I wanna sleep,” came her muffled voice.
That was when he took in her bedraggled state, her messed up hair and the dark circles that had been visible in her eyes. “Wait, when was the last time you slept, Marinette?”
“This morning?” Her answer was immediately followed by a yawn.
He got his cycle of the stand with one hand, balancing the vehicle and the girl in his arms awkwardly. “I meant a proper, nice sleep, Mari.”
There was silence from her side and Luka looked down to find her eyes screwed shut.
Oh well, she had fallen asleep.
Carefully, he mounted himself on the cycle, all the while trying his best not to disturb the girl in his arms. He adjusted his grip, and after making sure everything was secure, pedalled off in the direction of his home.
A few moments in the ride, and he felt Marinette fist his jacket as she mumbled something.
“What was that, Mari? I didn’t catch you,” he asked softly.
“A few days. Haven’t slept... for a few days.”
Luka was totally concerned. “But why? And how did you even function?”
“Work to do… Black coffee… Monster drinks... Caffeine in blood…”
“I am totally sure the last thing was other way round,” Luka grumbled as he continued to cycle.
Marinette didn’t speak anymore, just drifted off to sleep.
Once he reached home, he gingerly picked the girl in his arms and got aboard the boat. He walked quickly towards his cabin, all the while praying his mom would not see him (for heaven knows her boisterous congratulations would freak the sleeping Marinette out).
Luka gingerly put Marinette down on his bed and pulled the sheets over her. He picked up his guitar and moved to go to the deck, but found himself stuck in place.
For Marinette had fisted his shirt tight in her little hands.
Sighing partly in realisation and partly at the sight of her cute, sleeping face, Luka bent down to get his shirt free of her hold.
However, as soon as he made a move to loosen her hold, Marinette’s face scrunched up.
“Stay?” came her soft mumble, and Luka’s heart melted.
With no other alternative visible, the boy sighed before pulling his phone out of his pocket. Shooting a quick text to Juleka about Marinette resting at the Liberty, he gingerly sat down on his bed, leaning on the wall.
Marinette immediately shifted herself a bit, giving him room to adjust as she put her head in his lap and dozed off again.
Smiling down at the girl in his lap, Luka gently threaded his fingers through her hair, before pulling the hair ties out. He didn’t want her to get up with heavily knotted hair, after all. Plus, it just provided him more of an excuse to play with her soft locks.
Marinette snuggled herself to him, and Luka shifted his legs a bit to make her more comfortable. He hummed a lullaby, letting himself relax as the love of his life slept near him in pure bliss.
Sleep came to him discreetly, and he found happiness in dreams of pink cherry blossoms, the scent of chocolate and bread and the beautiful smile of the music of his heart.
************************************
Anarka entered the small cabin, looking for her son to get some groceries. However, the sight that met her caught her off guard.
Luka was leaning by the wall, his head tilted to the side as he dozed off, a content smile spread on his face. On his lap lay the sleeping form of the girl who designed for Kitty Section. Luka’s one hand was in the girl’s hair while the other was draped over her back protectively. The girl herself had a peaceful smile on her face as she used the boy’s legs for her pillow, while her one arm fisted his jacket and the other was near her waist, interlocked with Luka’s.
Smiling, the Captain of the Liberty simply pulled out her phone and discreetly clicked a picture of the two sleeping kids, before smiling and walking out of the room.
