Chapter Text
Adrien tapped his foot impatiently. “You're late.”
Within seconds, he was already irritating her.
Marinette rolled her eyes. “I wasn't given the right directions by my sat nav. It tried to send me down some tiny one-way road.”
“That's why we should go together,” he said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “It would save us time and money! My car isn't rundown like yours—”
“You honestly don't think that's my car, do you?” she interrupted. “It's a work car. It goes nowhere near my home, so don't even think about following it.”
Adrien scoffed. “I'm trying to improve our job performance.”
It was laughable.
“Who would they even replace us with?” she questioned rhetorically, stretching her arms out in front until her back clicked. “You got a scent yet? I hope you haven't just been sulking while waiting for me.”
“You are insufferable,” he muttered.
That didn't answer her question.
She snapped her fingers. “Time is money.”
“You're over twenty minutes late,” he pointed out.
Marinette shrugged. “You gonna snitch on me?”
“Maybe I'll get a competent partner if I do,” Adrien grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. As he pivoted on the spot to turn towards the woods behind him, he said, “I followed the scent to the east of here. I think there's a stream nearby.”
She looked down at her shoes sadly. “I should've known.”
“We're literally in a village,” he said. “Why are you wearing nice clothes?”
“I was on a date,” Marinette replied.
“A date?” Adrien demanded, looking at her in disgust. “You can't be serious. We got the alert last night—”
“Saying that we might be needed, yes,” she interrupted, brushing past him to start to enter the woods. The soil was still wet from the rain earlier that day. “I'm not going to cancel my plans just because of that. It was a flop anyway.”
Adrien pushed aside some branches to overtake her as he sarcastically said, “Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that.”
A branch hit her in the face. “What the fuck?”
He wasn't apologetic in the slightest. “I hate working with you.”
“You don't have to be so passive-aggressive about it,” she complained, rubbing her cheek where she'd been struck. It felt wet to touch. “Have you got a torch? I can't see shit.”
“I don't need one,” he said smugly. “And you might want to check the definition of passive-aggressive.”
“Oh, shut up,” Marinette snapped back, using her hands to try and slap away any branches before they could hit her.
The forest was never her favourite spot to explore.
The ground was wet and plants were low enough to hit her in the face, so she was taking tentative steps to avoid tripping and falling up in the mud. Adrien wasn't going to go out of his way to save her; the most he did was pull her up so they could continue walking at his pace.
Marinette cursed when she stubbed her toe.
Adrien didn't acknowledge her.
She fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket for a source of light. Unfortunately, it resulted in her keys falling down on the ground.
“Fuck,” she whispered. “Adrien, wait up. I dropped my keys.”
He was irritated. “Can't you take this seriously?”
Marinette crouched, turning on her torch to try and inspect the area. All she could see were wet leaves and mud.
Adrien came to stand in front of her and leaned down, collecting her keys from where they'd nestled in some leaves. “You're useless.”
Her knees clicked as she stood up. “I'm sorry I can't sniff out my mistakes like you.”
The light made it so she could see his upper lip curl in distaste. “Funny.”
“I try,” she said.
“I'm keeping your keys,” he announced, putting them into his pocket. “Just—keep up with me, okay? It's not that hard.”
“Again, I can't see in the fucking dark like you,” Marinette retorted.
Adrien stomped ahead without checking if she was okay.
There was mud on her hands already. The dress she was wearing was too chilly for the weather, her jacket was for looks only so it wasn't doing much to help, and her heels were digging into the dirt with every step. The only thing that could make it worse was if they came across a gravel walkway.
At least, that's what she thought until she lost an earring.
Adrien didn't ask what happened when she made an upset noise.
They weren't friends.
That was an understatement when Adrien hadn't so much as given her a genuine smile. He was upset with her presence whether she was on time or not, though she was aware that her attitude made it even worse.
If he wasn't willing to put the effort in, she was petty enough to be just as annoying right back.
It just so happened that this was the perfect job for her, so she wasn't going to get fired any time soon. No matter how many mistakes she made, there was no one that would be able to replace her successfully.
Adrien paused in his steps.
Marinette hit her face against his back. “Hey—”
“Be quiet,” he said, holding his arm out to stop her from trying to walk past him. “Turn the light off.”
“You can't be serious,” she muttered.
“Turn it off,” he demanded.
“I won't be able to see shit,” she hissed, turning it off and putting the phone in her pocket. “You can't ditch me in the middle of the forest, dude.”
“Oh, my god,” Adrien retorted. “Shut up, Meiyun.”
She sniffed.
He slapped a hand over her mouth.
She glared at him.
Adrien ignored her.
There was a faint rustling. Marinette tried to turn her head in the direction it was coming, only for Adrien to place his other hand on her neck and press tightly, holding her in place. It wasn't a friendly touch in the slightest; she could feel his nails digging into her skin, though he was careful not to put pressure on her choker.
She wasn't scared.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “They're nearby.”
She breathed out loudly.
He squeezed her neck.
It was a great working relationship.
There was the crunch of leaves, a snap of a twig, and her heartbeat didn't increase in the slightest. Marinette stayed where she was standing with Adrien keeping his grip on her—clearly not trusting her—and listened, waiting for the sounds to lessen.
It was a rule that if the two of them could hear their target, it was likely the target could also hear them.
She wasn't very good at being quiet.
Although it was annoying to admit, Adrien was the brains out of the two of them. His heightened senses helped a lot, then his stubbornness to sticking to the rules did the rest.
He removed his hand from her mouth slowly.
She tapped the hand still on her neck.
He pulled it away quickly, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”
Her neck still hurt. “Whatever.”
“We should follow,” he suggested. It was clear from his tone of voice that he was embarrassed by how forceful he'd been. “You can hold onto my shirt.”
Sometimes, that made his actions redeemable. It lasted only for a minute or two before he was a jerk again, though.
“Seriously?” she muttered. “Can't I just get my phone out? I can't see shit, dude. I'm gonna fall over.”
“We can't—”
“Carry me,” she demanded.
He sighed. “Meiyun.”
“I'm serious,” Marinette insisted. “You can see and your crazy strength means that I won't slow you down.”
“Why are you even here if you can't pull your weight?” he questioned bitterly.
“Adrien, stop being a dick about this,” she replied, pushing her hair away from her face. “Let me get on your back. Put me down when you need to send me in or whatever. It'll be fine.”
The leaves crunched beneath his feet. “I swear if you make a dog joke about this...”
“I won't,” she said.
“Get on.”
Marinette blindly moved her hands around until she found his back. It was incredibly awkward to try and get into the right position to climb onto him.
He stood up with her on his back without struggling.
“There,” she said smugly. “Now you can go track down the bad guy.”
“I don't want to hear a word from you,” Adrien replied, adjusting his grip on her legs. “You need to be quiet, all right? I don't care if a branch hits you in the face. Shut up and deal with it.”
She snorted. “Yes, sir.”
He started to trek through the forest confidently.
It was the same speed that he'd been walking with her behind him. It was no wonder she'd been lagging behind when he hadn't cared about her poor human eyes in the slightest.
There was some light peeking through from the moon and street lights on the outskirts, yet it wasn't enough for her eyes to fully adjust. It was a lot easier to wake up in the middle of the night and go to the toilet without turning the lights on than track down a criminal in an unfamiliar setting.
She could hear Adrien breathing in loudly.
And since he never appreciated her comments about it, she kept her mouth shut.
Although she tried to listen out for any clues, she wasn't successful. Whenever Adrien abruptly changed direction, she couldn't tell whether he'd been going the wrong way in the first place or had noticed something in the distance.
They did find the stream, though. Adrien was the only one to get his shoes wet.
She'd almost fallen asleep by the time he stopped.
“Huh?”
“Up ahead,” Adrien replied in a hushed voice. He crouched down to let her get off as quietly as possible. “They stopped to rest. You go in first and I'll be right behind you.”
It went unsaid what needed to happen.
Marinette sighed. “All right.”
“You can use your phone,” he advised.
“Well, yeah,” she muttered. “How else am I gonna be able to see?”
He didn't bicker with her that time.
Her hands weren't shaking when she got her phone out. This time, she put it in her non-dominant hand and used the other to get her pocket knife out of her jacket.
“Is that new?” he asked.
“Isn't it cute?” Marinette replied, moving it into the light so he could see the handle. “It's pink.”
“I can see that,” he said.
She decided to ignore how unimpressed he sounded.
Marinette took one step forward before deciding to take her shoes off. The wet ground felt even worse against her bare feet, though it would make her steps quieter.
She tilted her phone to show a wolf curled up sleeping against a trunk of a tree. It was a dry spot covered by a lot of foliage above.
Adrien hadn't said a thing about a wolf.
He would've been able to tell from the scent alone. It showed how much he cared about her.
There was no point in her knife now.
Her steps were slow.
She managed to walk right up to it. Marinette wondered whether it was normal for wolves to fall asleep that quickly—this one had known that they were nearby some minutes ago, yet it had come and found a place to rest.
They couldn't be that stupid.
That was proven when the eyes cracked open to look at her.
Marinette gave a shaky smile. “Hi?”
It lunged at her.
She didn't attempt to use her knife before the wolf went for her neck.
The pain was indescribable.
She screamed.
Marinette was startled awake.
She touched her neck to find that she was fully healed and her choker was still in place despite the sharp teeth that had ripped her apart earlier.
Marinette felt groggy, like she'd woken up too quickly from a nap. It wasn't the right amount of sleep to make up for that evening.
While the street light she'd parked under offered some light, there wasn't enough for her to see everything. She put on the light at the front of the car to look at the damage.
Her dress was ruined, blood was smeared all over her skin and pink hair, and her boots were missing.
“Bastard,” she muttered after realising Adrien had left them behind.
Thankfully, he'd put her keys in the ignition, so she had some way to get home. He'd already left instead of sticking around for when she came back.
She hoped he enjoyed the bloodstains in his car.
“You look tired,” Chloé noticed.
Marinette shrugged. “I didn't sleep well.”
“Because of your date?” Chloé questioned, tying her apron.
She kept creaming the butter in the bowl. “Nah, that went horribly. She wasn't that into me.”
Chloé was more interested. “What happened?”
“She was paying more attention to her phone than me,” Marinette replied, putting the bowl onto the side so she could start measuring out the sugar. “I said I was going to the toilet and bailed.”
Chloé raised her eyebrows. “That's unlike you.”
She shrugged. “It was overpriced.”
“You criminal,” Chloé remarked, pride clear in her voice. “I don't know what's gotten into you. I'm almost impressed.”
“That I left without paying?”
Chloé sniffed. “I'm so proud.”
She snorted. “Fuck off.”
“You never said anything, so I thought it went well,” Chloé said, lurking by the door that had a window to peer out into the front of the shop. Although the bell above the front door hadn't gone off, Chloé didn't like leaving it unattended. “Did you wait just to tell me this in person?”
“Yes, definitely,” she lied. “I'm always thinking about you.”
“As you should be,” Chloé said.
“You can just go out front,” Marinette replied. “I haven't got anything juicy to tell you.”
“We haven't even had a customer yet,” Chloé grumbled.
“Maybe we will if they can see your pretty face at the counter,” she pointed out. “Go on, shoo. I need to concentrate.”
Chloé sighed. “Fine.”
The time passed quickly.
Her playlist was playing quietly so the music wouldn't be heard at the front of the store. Marinette barely spoke to Luka when he came in midday to join her; they were both bad at multitasking, so they saved the talking for when they had nothing left to do.
Sometimes, she heard snippets from Chloé's conversations out front.
Since Chloé stuck to serving drinks and socialising with customers, Marinette was the one nominated to take a tray out to stock up the displays. Chloé liked to drag her into conversations and introduce her to the regulars, boasting that Marinette did the majority of the work.
That was why Luka refused to come out.
Marinette gave an awkward smile and wave each time.
That day, Marinette almost dropped her tray when she saw who Chloé was talking to.
Adrien stood there, smiling and laughing.
She'd never seen him look so happy.
For a moment, she could only stare. Adrien was perpetually serious and always dressed in black from head to toe. And yet, there he was, standing in the middle of her pastel-coloured work with a jean jacket on and a genuine smile on his lips as he spoke to Chloé.
Marinette was about to turn around and go back into the kitchen to escape.
Chloé had other plans, however.
“Marinette!” Chloé exclaimed, latching onto her arm to stop her. “This is my friend, Adrien. I've been begging him to come here for weeks.”
There was a lot to process in that one sentence.
All Marinette could ask was, “Friend?”
“We grew up together,” Chloé explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It's been years, so I had to recommend for him to come here! Gotta introduce a new local to the best place, eh?”
A new local?
The thought of living nearer to Adrien, or even sharing friends with him, wasn't a pleasant one.
She swallowed.
“Marinette?” Adrien questioned, still with that genuine smile on his face. “Hi, I've heard a lot about you. Chloé's been bragging.”
She tightened her grip on the tray. “Bragging?”
There was no way he would recognise her. The choker was off, her hair was a different colour, and she was even going by a different name. Adrien wasn't going to suddenly look at her in disgust.
“Fuck off, I wasn't bragging,” Chloé retorted, taking the tray forcefully from Marinette's hands. “You asked about my life and I told you.”
“You literally only told me about her,” he remarked.
Chloé scoffed. “So?”
“Don't you have other friends?” Adrien questioned without malice in his voice. It was strange to hear him so friendly.
“No,” Chloé bluntly replied. “Was that not obvious?”
Adrien blinked. “Oh.”
Marinette felt incredibly out of place. “I should—I should go.”
Before Chloé could stop her, she rushed back into the kitchen.
Her heart was beating more frantically than when she'd faced the werewolf last night. Adrien was an enigma to her; she knew his name and race, yet that was it. She didn't know anything about his personal life and she wanted to keep it that way.
He wasn't supposed to share her best friend.
It was a terrifying prospect.
Although he wasn't a threat to her, she didn't want to cross those parts of her life. Mingling with supernaturals had never gone well for her.
It brought up the question of whether Chloé knew what he was. If they'd grown up together, there was a chance that Chloé was in the know.
Luka looked at her strangely when she robotically went back to work.
She could hear Adrien's laughter coming through.
For the rest of the day, she made a lot of mistakes. A cake came out undercooked, she overfilled a tart and ended up having to redo it, and she inhaled icing sugar by accident.
Luka patted her in sympathy. “Bad day?”
She sighed. “The worst.”
Thankfully, it was Luka that had the closing shift. Marinette was able to slink away before Chloé could come in the back to speak to her.
It was when she was eating dinner that she got the call.
“Why didn't you speak to Adrien?” Chloé demanded.
“I hate people,” Marinette replied, trying to play it cool. “And you've never mentioned him before.”
“Yes, I have,” Chloé retorted. “I told you an old friend moved here, like, last week. You even nodded.”
“I wasn't listening,” she pointed out.
“I know that now,” Chloé complained. “You could've at least said hi! He's nice, I swear—”
“He's your friend, not mine,” Marinette interrupted. “I'll put up with him at your parties, that's it. You can't expect anything else from me.”
“Wow, you really are such a bitch now,” Chloé said. “Am I rubbing off on you too much? I know I said I was proud before, but this is a bit too much.”
Her laughter was forced. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Shouldn't you be happy I've got other friends?” Chloé asked. “You're always complaining that I'm sticking to you too much.”
“You know what?” Marinette replied. “Yes, that's great. You should take him shopping next time so I don't end up with all your bags. There you go, you've got a new servant.”
“What the—”
She hung up.
Surprisingly, Chloé wasn't annoyed with her.
When she was greeted with a smug look the following morning, Marinette looked at Chloé in concern. And as the day went on and she didn't receive an answer, she thought that would be the end of it.
At least, that was until Chloé poked her head into the kitchen to say that she was needed out there.
Marinette wiped her hands on her apron and obediently came out.
Adrien was standing at the counter.
He was dressed all in black this time.
With a bemused smile, he waved at her. “Hello?”
Marinette looked between him and Chloé in confusion.
Chloé's smug expression was back in place. “Hi, Marinette. Fancy seeing you here.”
“You called me out here?” she replied, furrowing her brow. “What's the problem?”
“Have we got any more muffins?” Chloé questioned. “They're Adrien's favourite and we're out.”
She didn't point out that Adrien had only visited once. “They're in the oven now.”
“Great, can you bring them out when they're done?” Chloé asked, putting her hands on Marinette's shoulders to forcefully turn her around to the door. “I'll be waiting. Thanks.”
And with that, Marinette was shoved back into the kitchen.
Luka looked over curiously. “What was that about?”
“I don't know,” she replied, a bit dazed. “I think Chloé's gone mad.”
He snorted.
“Seriously,” she insisted. “I don't know what's going on.”
“Do we ever?” Luka questioned, leaning down to peer into the oven. “If you don't complain, maybe she'll give us a raise.”
Marinette laughed. “Yeah, right.”
He sighed. “Wishful thinking.”
The answers came when she took the muffins outside. Chloé had been slumped on the counter, playing with her phone since no customers needed her assistance at that moment. As soon as Marinette came out, Chloé shoved her phone away and visibly perked up.
Marinette squinted. “What are you up to?”
“Me? Nothing,” Chloé replied in a sing-song voice. “I'd never do anything.”
Her suspicions increased. “What?”
“Can you take a muffin over to Adrien?” Chloé requested, pointing over to a table in the corner. “I would but I need to take a shit.”
“...What.”
“Great, bye,” Chloé said, slapping Marinette's shoulders on her way past.
And with that, Chloé disappeared into the kitchen.
Marinette watched her leave in disbelief.
It was stupid. When Marinette had agreed to work for Chloé, it had been under the condition that she wouldn't have to work out front.
Adrien was different, apparently.
It infuriated her.
The tray suddenly felt heavy in her hands. She put the rest of the muffins away on display before placing one on a plate, complete with a folded napkin and a cake fork.
She felt incredibly awkward stepping out from behind the counter. Adrien was too absorbed in his phone to look up when she approached. It made her hopeful that she could slip away before he noticed her.
That wasn't the case.
As Chloé had done, Adrien put away his phone when he glanced up and saw her.
“Marinette,” he said, sounding much more enthused than he normally did when addressing her. “Hi? I didn't think you'd be the one bringing this out. Chloé says you're a gremlin that stays in the kitchen.”
She awkwardly put his plate down. “Chloé made me.”
He laughed. “I'm not surprised.”
She didn't know how to respond to this.
Adrien wasn't interested in her personal life. He'd rather bicker and argue with her than listen to her talk about her friends, so they avoided that. He'd never laugh genuinely at something she said, let alone something that wasn't a joke.
And yet, this wasn't an imposter.
While this man was wearing black, it was still Adrien with an open and inviting expression.
Her stomach twisted.
Two nights ago, he'd callously thrown her dead body in the back of her car and left. The keys had been in the ignition and it was left unlocked. Anyone could've come along and stolen it, or found her corpse.
He hadn't cared.
“How are you?” Adrien questioned.
She took a step back. “Fine.”
His smile faltered. “Sorry, you probably need to get back to work. Thank you for bringing this over.”
Too tongue-tied to talk, Marinette nodded before turning on her heel. She didn't look back over at him.
Chloé was back at the counter with that same smug expression on her face.
Marinette refused to talk to her.
For the next couple of days, Chloé's attitude was infuriating. While they rarely spoke at work, Chloé managed to be annoying in that small amount of time.
Chloé kept sending her knowing glances and laughing to herself.
Eventually, Marinette had had enough.
“What the fuck is up with you?” she demanded, balling her apron up and throwing it onto the counter. “You keep giving me weird looks.”
Chloé shook her head fondly. “You're so easy to read.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she questioned.
Chloé's smile showed her teeth. “You think Adrien's hot.”
She made a choked noise.
“It's so obvious,” Chloé said, putting her hands on her hips as she nodded, confidence coming through with every word. “You couldn't stop staring at him. Hell, I know you haven't gotten laid in a while, but that was extreme. You looked like you wanted to jump the guy.”
Marinette had wanted to punch him.
She was too baffled to try and argue it.
“He's into you, too,” Chloé revealed, leaning forward and cupping one side of her mouth, as though she was childishly telling her a big secret. “He thinks you're really cute.”
It was not what she wanted to hear.
Marinette blurted, “What the fuck?”
Chloé snickered.
“That's not—that's not it!” she spluttered, horrified. “I'm not into Adrien. At all.”
Chloé wasn't listening. “Oh, you are.”
“No—”
“I'm not gonna force you,” Chloé assured her, rolling her eyes. “And I told him not to turn up here too often because it'll scare you away.”
“I barely spoke to him!”
Chloé shrugged. “You're cute.”
Her throat felt tight. “He can't think that.”
“He does,” Chloé proudly replied. “We've got the same taste, it makes sense. You're totally his type.”
She put a hand on her stomach. “I'm gonna throw up.”
“Chill, I'm over you,” Chloé said.
“I'm not into Adrien,” Marinette protested, running her fingers through her hair. “Why are you—why are you so obsessed with this?”
Chloé shrugged. “It's fun.”
She stared.
“What?” Chloé said. “You're lonely. He's lonely. It's a match made in heaven.”
“No, it's really not,” she replied with a sigh. “I don't want to date your friend.”
“Okay, so sleep with him,” Chloé suggested.
“Not even that!” she exclaimed. “I don't want anything to do with him. He's your friend, not mine. Let's keep it that way.”
Chloé crossed her arms. “You met all my other friends.”
“Yeah, and you never tried to set me up with them before,” Marinette pointed out. “Why's Adrien different?”
“I like him more,” Chloé replied without hesitation.
She squinted. “So?”
“So,” Chloé said, drawing out the vowel. “I want him to be happy. And you make me happy, so why can't that work for him as well?”
“You can't just decide that I'm supposed to make someone else happy,” Marinette said in shock. “That's not—that's not how this works at all.”
Chloé shrugged.
“Stop shrugging!” she complained.
“I don't have any big master plan,” Chloé said, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Adrien's been too far away to meet up for ages. And if him making heart eyes at you means he'll come back again, I'm fine with that.”
“I'm not,” she retorted. “I'm supposed to be in the kitchen, not your friend's eye candy.”
Chloé snorted. “He's nice.”
“I really don't care,” she bluntly replied. “I don't want to know him.”
“You're oddly aggressive,” Chloé remarked, raising her eyebrows. “What's got you so upset?”
“You!”
“Well, get over it,” Chloé demanded.
She breathed out audibly. “You're horrible.”
“Yes, I'm the worst for trying to get both of my friends laid at once,” Chloé said, tutting afterwards. “I'm a terrible person.”
“You are,” Marinette grumbled, taking her crumpled apron into her hand to fold it neatly and place it away for tomorrow. “Can you not, please? I don't need a matchmaker. You're only going to make it more awkward between us.”
Chloé scoffed. “Fine.”
“I'm serious,” she said.
Chloé held her hands in surrender.
She narrowed her eyes.
Adrien wasn't happy to see her.
“Honestly, can't you ever turn up on time?” he complained, going as far as to point to his watch.
“Who even wears watches any more?” Marinette replied, already riled up. “You don't need to show off, rich boy. Your car already does it for you.”
“God, I hate you,” he muttered, taking in an audible breath.
There was none of the friendliness she'd seen in his expression the other day.
Their place of target was a club rather than the forest, so he'd dressed up for the occasion. His dress shirt fit him well and there was even hair product in his hair to make it look better.
Marinette remarked, “You cleaned up.”
“And you're late,” he replied.
She rolled her eyes. “Not like that's anything new.”
“Don't you live near here?” he questioned.
“I'm never telling you where I live,” Marinette replied, smoothing out her outfit.
“I didn't ask,” he said.
“You kind of did,” she mused.
He shot her a look of distaste.
Marinette put her hand under her chin and posed. “How do I look?”
“Like bait,” he replied.
She sighed. “I guess that's good.”
“Put your hair up,” he advised, gesturing to his neck. “You need to show more skin.”
“Relax, this isn't anything new,” she replied, doing as he said and pulling her pink hair into a high ponytail. It was a bit difficult to brush her fingers through the hairspray she'd put in. “I've attracted vampires before. It's fine.”
“This one's picky,” he said.
She snorted. “I'm hot and I smell magical, we're fine.”
“Your confidence is disgusting,” he replied, wrinkling his nose. “As soon as you get her alone, I'll be there.”
“As soon as I die, you mean,” she corrected, touching her hair to check there weren't any bumps. “Are you gonna barge into the women's toilet? I'd love to see that.”
He sounded irritated. “Meiyun.”
“It's a legit question,” she said. “I'm not supposed to go to a secondary location, right? The bathroom's the only private place we can go.”
“I'll rent out a VIP room.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“We've got a contact among the staff,” he explained, rolling up his sleeves. “A room will be easier to clean afterwards with their help. I'll go in first and get it all set up.”
She caught on quickly. “I have to stay here and look pretty?”
“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “Stay here.”
Marinette felt like a child being told off.
The disguise was working, though.
She was Meiyun, his hunter partner who had pink hair and always wore a magical choker to protect her identity. He wouldn't be able to recognise her if they walked past each other in the street.
While she knew that was true, it had been an experience to meet him twice in person. Adrien's obliviousness to her identity had only pissed her off more.
To pass the time, she texted Chloé while waiting.
Chloé was already tipsy from going out to drink. Although Marinette had to cancel at the last moment when the police had messaged her, the clothes she put on were going to be put to good use.
Unlike her, it seemed that Adrien knew beforehand of where they were going.
She wasn't bitter.
It was more annoyance. Adrien had her number; he could text and give her more information than the location she was given by the police. Yet he never did, and always turned up knowing more about what they were up against.
Then, she felt irritated when she remembered how he hadn't told her about the werewolf last night.
Her well-being wasn't a concern of his. Adrien only needed her to show up and be a distraction.
He didn't care that she got hurt in the first place.
She wondered whether Chloé knew this was what Adrien did. For her, Chloé thought she was just being forgetful and hadn't checked her phone for a few hours.
The excuse worked well when it was true at times.
Adrien came back looking miserable.
“No luck?” she questioned.
“The room's ready,” he replied, putting his hands in his pockets. “The target's by the bar. There's already another woman with her, so you might have trouble getting in there.”
“Eh, it's fine,” she dismissed. “I've got time.”
“You can't let her get away,” Adrien said. “They're already classed as a serial killer.”
“When are they not?” she questioned. “It's fine, dude. I'll just run after her if I have to.”
“You can't cause a scene,” he reprimanded. “There are a lot of humans here.”
She scoffed. “How stupid do you think I am?”
He stared.
“Okay, rude,” Marinette said. “You have to have a little faith in me.”
Adrien frowned. “I don't.”
“God, you're so stuck up,” she muttered. “Can you at least remember my shoes this time? They were expensive. I can't find another pair in my size anywhere—”
He interrupted, “Do you seriously care about that?”
“Uh, yes?” she replied. “They were really good shoes.”
“You shouldn't have worn them for work,” Adrien chastised, curling his upper lip in distaste. “You need to take this seriously. I'm not having my reputation be ruined because of you.”
“I wore them for my date, not this,” she reminded him.
He wasn't impressed. “That doesn't make it any better.”
“Life doesn't revolve around the job,” Marinette said, crossing her arms. “There are other things in life. Come on, dude. You're anal about everything.”
He flatly replied, “I don't like it when my plans get ruined.”
“Well, maybe you should actually tell me these plans,” she replied, trying not to snap at him. “How am I supposed to do what you want when you don't tell me a thing?”
“You're always late,” Adrien replied.
“I'm bad at commitment.”
He sighed tiredly. “Can you just go inside? I have to get up early tomorrow.”
That was the first mention of his everyday life. “You do?”
“Yes, so hurry up,” he snapped back.
“Whoa, sorry for asking,” she muttered, turning on her heel to go towards the club.
Adrien didn't wish her good luck.
That wasn't their relationship, after all. He'd held a grudge ever since their first mission together. Although she'd been quite friendly, it had only deteriorated from there. Their success rate was high, the pay was more from one hit than she made in a single month working her normal job at the bakery, and it was Adrien's attitude that put a damper on her mood every time.
Well, that and dying all of the time.
It was never a pleasant experience.
The club wasn't one that she'd been to before.
It was more upscale than the ones she visited. There were a lot of tables to sit down, the music wasn't too loud, and there was a lot of security around. Marinette had to show her fake ID to get in—thankfully, the one that the police supplied her with worked all over, so she never had to use her real one.
Since she could be responsible when the time called for it, she ordered a non-alcoholic drink at the bar.
She'd love to see Adrien try and tell her off for that.
Her target was easy to find; the woman was at a table with another, leaning in close and flirting. Marinette took a sip of her drink as she watched them.
Approaching them wouldn't do any good, so she waited.
Marinette sat down at the bar within eye line of the table. She brushed off anyone that came her way, stirring her drink and talking to the bartender to pass time.
Adrien hadn't given her a time limit.
Marinette was very aware that she was impatient. That was why she rummaged into her bag to get her pink knife, slicing her fingertip lightly enough to draw out blood. It wasn't enough to need medical attention, so she ignored it and let it bead up as she took another sip of her drink, putting on her best act of being bored.
It didn't take long for the vampire to come over.
Blood and the smell of magic coming from one person had never let her down before.
Marinette's smile was genuine.
And when the woman told her that she smelled nice, her laughter was genuine.
“Some might say I smell pretty magical,” she replied with a wink.
The sharp smile she got in return was a good sign.
Marinette leaned in and said, “I've got a room upstairs.”
The woman took her up on it immediately. Marinette wasn't sure whether she was coming across as naïve or the vampire genuinely didn't think that anything bad would happen. It wasn't often that a mage would come across them, let alone offer themselves up as a meal.
Marinette pretended to stumble as they walked.
It helped that her shoes were a little too high.
There was security to confirm her identity before letting them into the VIP room.
Teeth were at her neck immediately. Marinette hadn't even had the chance to sit down properly before the woman was all over her, holding her wrists to try and stop her from fighting back.
It wasn't a pleasant nibble at her neck either. Her vision went black from the pain, her body tensed up, and her flesh was literally being ripped away instead of a gentle suck.
Marinette tried to scream.
She woke up on the floor.
With a shiver, she pushed herself up. The employee that had let her into the room recoiled away in horror, staring at her with wide eyes.
Half of her body was soaked in her blood. While she didn't know if the puddle on the floor was entirely hers, it was in her hair and all over her dress and skin. She shivered and tried to shake it off, only to find that some of it had dried already.
“Where'd my partner go?”
“He—he left,” the employee squeaked out.
The woman's body had disappeared. The one member of staff that was aware of their actions was clearly left in charge of the clean up while Adrien had taken their target away.
As always, he'd left her behind.
She sighed. “Of course he did.”
Their voice shook. “Are you okay?”
“Eh, I'm fine,” Marinette said, turning her head to the side to crack her neck. It felt satisfying. “Can you get me a coat or something? I'm gonna attract too much attention walking out like this.”
They came back with a tablecloth.
It was better than nothing.
Marinette turned up at Chloé's with dessert.
Chloé accepted it happily. “I knew inviting you was a good choice.”
“A good choice?” she questioned. “I thought we were having a movie night, not you using me for food.”
“Yours is better than ordering it in. I hope you remembered no chocolate,” Chloé responded, opening up the lid to inspect the baked goods. “Oh, you even iced them. Nice.”
“Well, yeah,” she said. “I like making them look pretty.”
“Make yourself pretty next time,” Chloé suggested.
She scoffed. “I don't need to dress up all of the time.”
“A bit of concealer would be good for those bags,” Chloé pointed out.
Marinette decided to ignore that.
She hung her coat up by the door before venturing inside. The socks didn't provide enough warmth to protect her from the floor, though Chloé wasn't the type to buy slippers for visitors to have. Marinette kept forgetting to buy a pair and leave them over here.
“Go sit down,” Chloé suggested. “I'll make coffee.”
“Yeah, all right,” she agreed, wandering through the home to the living room.
It was supposed to be a normal night.
When Chloé invited her over, nothing had seemed off. They were friends before they worked together, so spending time together was quite normal. Luka thought it was strange to hang out with them too much, so he only turned up for dinners at restaurants instead of coming over to either of their homes.
Marinette couldn't blame him.
Chloé was an odd boss to have.
She stopped in the doorway when she saw that there was someone already in the living room.
Adrien was sitting down on a sofa, playing with his phone.
Begrudgingly, she realised that he had slippers on.
And before she could think it through, she questioned, “Why are you here?”
He jumped.
She winced.
“Marinette!” he said, a bit high-pitched. It was definitely not the annoyed tone she'd heard the other day. “Hi, you're—you're here. Yeah.”
“Yes?” she replied, a bit confused. “Why are you?”
He gave her a shy smile. “Chloé invited me.”
She wanted to punch him so much.
Adrien had left her in a puddle of her blood a few days ago. He hadn't even bothered to move her on the sofa so she'd wake up comfortably.
“Right,” she said flatly.
His smile didn't falter. “Do you want to sit down?”
She sat as far away from him as possible.
“How was your day?” he questioned.
She gave him a strange look. “Fine.”
“That's good,” Adrien said.
The strange part was that he actually sounded like he meant it. Adrien had never been so sincere with her before. And when it was paired with a smile when he didn't look away from her, she felt her stomach twisting uncomfortably.
How was she supposed to deal with this?
Chloé knew that she didn't want anything to do with him.
And yet, Adrien was sitting across from her, waiting for her to say something.
She blurted, “I don't want to fuck you.”
He made a choked noise.
Her face felt hot.
“You—you what?” he spluttered with his face turning red.
“Chloé's trying to set us up,” Marinette explained, gesturing between them. “I'm not interested.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay.”
“Okay?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes. “That's all you have to say?”
He touched the back of his neck. “What... else am I supposed to say?”
“That you're not interested either?”
He quietly replied, “I don't want to lie.”
Marinette gawked.
“I'm not trying to pressure you or anything,” he rushed to get out, looking at her with wide eyes. “I didn't ask for Chloé to do this. I just—I said that I'd like to get to know you, that's all.”
She was suspicious. “Why?”
His ears were red. “Why not?”
There were a lot of reasons.
For one, Adrien hated being in her presence for only a few minutes. He never checked if she was okay, threw her corpse around like it was rubbish—which was caught on the dashcam of her work car at times—and he cared more about getting the job done than her well-being.
He hated her personality.
“You don't know me,” Marinette said.
“That's true,” he agreed, letting his hand fall to his lap. “I'd like to, though. Is that—is that a problem?”
She was incredulous. “Yeah, it is.”
Adrien swallowed. “It is?”
She left the room without giving him a response.
Chloé was in the kitchen with three mugs in front of her, waiting for the kettle to finish boiling.
“I'm leaving,” Marinette announced, walking past her without stopping. “Don't try this again. Bye.”
Chloé exclaimed, “What? Wait—”
She picked up her shoes and ran.
It took three days for Chloé to apologise.
And in that time, Luka noticed the tension between them. He kept glancing at the door when it was time to bring the fresh food out to the front, even going as far as to offer to take it out once.
Marinette refused to let the routine change, so she shot him down and did her job without exchanging a single word with Chloé.
It was childish, but that was their friendship summed up.
Chloé always refused to admit that she was wrong. And while Marinette knew that she jumped to conclusions quickly, there was nothing to misunderstand this time. Marinette had rejected getting to know Adrien as a friend as well as a romantic interest, so it was a betrayal all the same to see him sitting in Chloé's living room.
There was also the added annoyance that she didn't know if Chloé knew about the supernatural yet.
Marinette was the one to approach her first, asking Chloé out for dinner that evening.
They met up at the restaurant.
She arrived before Chloé, ordering drinks for the both of them. And when Chloé appeared, looking around the restaurant before spotting her, Marinette couldn't help but smile when she saw how stiffly Chloé was walking.
“I'm not mad any more,” she said, putting her elbow on the table to rest her head on her hand. “I will be if you try and force Adrien to be there again. I told you, I'm not interested in knowing him.”
Chloé sighed. “Really?”
“Really,” she confirmed. “Why are you trying to force this so much?”
“He doesn't really have any friends here and I feel bad,” Chloé admitted, taking the drink and holding it against her cheek to feel the coldness. “And I've told him about you for a while.”
She pursed her lips. “Still not a good reason.”
“Whatever, you're normally a pushover,” Chloé grumbled. “How was I supposed to know this is the limit?”
“By actually listening to me?” she suggested.
Chloé shrugged.
Marinette rolled her eyes. “You've never mentioned him before.”
“We fell out of touch,” Chloé explained. “We used to be super close—grew up as neighbours. He used to cry whenever I'd tell him to fuck off.”
It was easy to picture—Chloé being rude, not Adrien as a child. That wasn't an image that she wanted to think about any time soon.
She snorted. “You would.”
Chloé huffed. “I was a little angel, I don't know what you're on about.”
She had to ask, “Are you just trying to shove him into your life again?”
“Eh, I guess,” Chloé said, not sounding upset from the insinuation. “I feel bad. Seriously, any time we talk he's just at home, doing nothing.”
Marinette knew that wasn't true.
“Don't invite him to work for you,” she demanded. “I'll quit.”
“Yeah, don't worry,” Chloé replied, putting her drink down with a bit too much force. “He doesn't need the money.”
She squinted. “Is that supposed to reassure me?”
Chloé tutted. “He already said no.”
“You asked him?” Marinette demanded, slapping her hand on the table. “I doubt he even knows how to bake! You can't just hire anyone—”
“Chill, I was gonna give him shifts out front,” Chloé grumbled, crossing her arms. “I need someone to help. I'm fed up with cleaning up after people.”
She sighed. “Anyone but him.”
“Okay, what's your problem?” Chloé questioned. “You don't even know him.”
Marinette averted her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Chloé snapped. “Why do you hate him?”
“Uh,” she said.
Chloé waited for an answer.
She ran her fingers through her hair. “It's not him, it's me?”
“Yeah, right,” Chloé responded, completely unconvinced. “You've been funny about him since you met.”
“I don't want to fuck him—”
“You already said that,” Chloé remarked, sounding bored. “I'm still not convinced.”
It was a gamble to say, “I'm not into wolves.”
Chloé looked at her in shock.
It wasn't the response of someone not knowing what she was referring to. Marinette glanced away from nerves, tapping her foot on the floor, and that was the moment that the waiter came over to take their order.
She gripped onto the menu like a lifeline.
After the waiter left with their orders, Chloé slammed her hands on the table. “You know?”
She nervously glanced around. “You know?”
“I'm asking you!” Chloé exclaimed.
Marinette shrugged. “You never brought it up before.”
“You never did!”
“Well, we're both equally to blame,” she replied in a hushed voice. Although the tables beside them were empty, it was something they could talk about loudly in public. “How long have you known?”
“Since I was a kid,” Chloé revealed, looking at her strangely. “I went over to Adrien's and found him as a wolf once. It was weird.”
Marinette gestured awkwardly at Chloé. “You're not?”
Chloé shook her head. “I'm human.”
That was reassuring. “Oh, cool.”
“You're not?” Chloé asked.
“No, I'm not,” Marinette replied.
Chloé was looking at her expectantly.
“I'm not telling you,” she stated.
“What?” Chloé exclaimed. “Why?”
“I don't tell anyone,” she answered, tucking some hair behind her ear. “It's safer that way.”
Chloé demanded, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Marinette said, touching a bead of condensation on her drink glass. “I stay away from supes for a reason. I don't befriend or date them.”
“Oh, my god,” Chloé whispered. “You're racist.”
She choked out a laugh. “Fuck off.”
Chloé was delighted. “That's why you don't like Adrien?”
It caught her off-guard. “Yes?”
Chloé clenched a fist in victory. “It's not because you don't like how he looks.”
“I don't care about his looks,” she bluntly replied. “He could be the cutest guy imaginable, but I still wouldn't go for him.”
It wasn't as though she could get a good look at him when he was always scowling or frowning around her. The happy Adrien that greeted her in Chloé's home was an anomaly that she wanted to avoid in the future.
“He is very cute, though,” Chloé pointed out. “Everyone thinks so.”
“Irrelevant,” she dismissed.
Chloé beamed. “You're really not interested?”
“No, not at all,” Marinette insisted. “It's for my safety. Literally.”
“Is that why you wanna hide in the kitchen all the time at work?” Chloé questioned.
“Well, that and I hate customer service,” she replied honestly.
Chloé reached across the table to put her hand on top of Marinette's. “You're really not going to tell me?”
She slapped her hand away. “No.”
Chloé pouted.
“No,” Marinette repeated. “Seriously, I'm not telling you. I don't care how much you beg, I'm taking this to my grave.”
Chloé frowned. “But you're terrible at secrets.”
She snorted. “I can keep them when I have to.”
“Have to?” Chloé echoed. “You tell me everything.”
“Clearly not,” she muttered. “The only reason I'm telling you is to keep Adrien far away from me. I don't care how nice he is, Chloé. It can only end in disaster.”
Chloé hummed. “How disastrous are we talking?”
“The kind where I'm dead,” she bluntly replied.
The look she got in return was full of suspicion. “No shit?”
“I'm not lying,” she said.
“Why would I believe that?” Chloé questioned, twirling a curled strand of hair around her finger. “I've known you for years and you've never been this... shifty before. I mean, you've gone to shady clubs with me and everything. Something like that would kill you, not Adrien.”
Marinette scoffed. “Are you suddenly a supernatural expert?”
Chloé kept a straight face. “Perhaps.”
“You don't know shit,” she replied. Her tone of voice made it sound ruder than it was in her head. “If you care about me at all, keep Adrien away.”
Chloé breathed out audibly. “You're making me sound like a horrible person.”
“You are,” she muttered.
With a laugh, Chloé said, “Yeah, that's true.”
Marinette was stopped before she made it through the door out of the kitchen.
“No,” Chloé said, taking the tray from her hands. “I've got it, bye.”
It was so out of character that Luka asked from across the room, “What's going on?”
“Chloé's being weird,” she said, peering through the glass to try and see what was going on. “I have no idea why.”
Chloé was using tongs to put the new cakes on display. With a bit of concentration, Chloé stacked them up nicely and seemed quite pleased with herself after shutting the display door.
It was unheard of.
Chloé wasn't helpful; she was rude, selfish, and Marinette's best friend despite her bad qualities. There was always something to laugh at when Chloé was the polar opposite of her all of the time.
Later, when Chloé came in during a brief lull in customers, Chloé explained, “Adrien was here.”
Marinette blinked. “Huh?”
“You didn't want him to see you,” Chloé said with her eyes darting towards Luka. “Unless he can sense you nearby? Is that a thing?”
“He can smell me from here,” she replied.
It was news to Chloé. “What the fuck?”
“Do you... not talk about this?” she questioned.
“No, he's secretive as shit,” Chloé replied, furrowing her brow. “I looked it up online. It's hard to tell what's real or made up, so I gave up.”
She snorted. “I'll link you to some.”
Chloé was wide-eyed. “Really?”
She shrugged. “It can't hurt to let you know some. I warn you, I can only guarantee a few things are true.”
“Adrien says the opposite,” Chloé murmured. “He wants me to keep out of it.”
“You are only human,” she whispered. “It's best to stay away.”
“Fuck off,” Chloé snapped.
She held her hands up in surrender. “I'm just saying—”
“Well, just don't,” Chloé retorted. “I know what's best for me, not you.”
“That's why I'm giving you the links,” Marinette replied, trying to be reassuring. “It's up to you. Just—just be careful, yeah? Don't tell strangers that you know about any of this.”
“How stupid do you think I am?” Chloé snapped.
She raised her eyebrows.
Chloé glared.
For once, Marinette was there first.
When she climbed out of the car and glanced around, she thought that Adrien would be somewhere nearby scouting out the area. She'd only been given the street name and postcode to direct her, while he surely had more information.
And yet, he wasn't anywhere to be seen after ten minutes had passed.
She text him.
It was left on read.
This time she wasn't dressed in a short skirt, so she was able to sit on the curb and wait. The one time she'd waited in the car for Adrien to appear, he'd told her off for being lazy and ranted about work ethic.
She didn't want to repeat that.
And when his car pulled up onto the street, she hopped up onto her feet and smugly put her hands on her hips.
He was already scowling when he got out.
“Well, well, well,” Marinette started in a sing-song voice. “What time do you call this?”
“There was a car accident,” Adrien grumpily informed her.
“I got here just fine,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess you're not taking this very seriously, huh? Maybe I should ask for a different partner.”
“If they've ignored my requests, they won't answer yours,” he muttered.
She put a hand over her heart. “I'm more precious than you.”
“You're literally bait,” he snapped back.
“Precious bait,” she corrected. “Like those special glittery fake fish that you use to go fishing.”
Adrien scoffed. “I don't think anyone's ever going to consider you precious.”
“God, you really hate me,” she said, dropping her hands down to her side. “What did I ever do to you?”
He stared.
“Showing up late isn't a personal attack,” Marinette snapped. “I'm terrible at directions. I get lost, okay?”
Adrien wasn't sympathetic. “Leave early.”
“Oh, like you today?” she replied. “A lot of good that did you. Your perfect score is ruined.”
“Someone died and you're using it to gloat?” he demanded.
She put a hand under her chin to pose. “I die every time we team up.”
“That's a you problem,” he responded, brushing past her to start walking down the street. Since he hadn't asked her for any information, it was clear that he had it all already. “If you actually learned some self-defence, you wouldn't have this problem.”
It was a common retort he used.
Marinette had been offended the first time. Now it was expected for him to make digs at her in any way he could.
“I can beat up a human, not a supe,” she replied, jogging to catch up to him. “And struggling just makes it hurt more.”
“Learn a different branch of magic,” he suggested.
She snorted. “It doesn't work like that.”
He wasn't convinced. “Sure, it doesn't.”
“How many magi do you even know?” Marinette questioned. And before he could reply to that, she said, “The answer's none because we're rare. And for your information, I can't choose what magic I can use.”
Adrien didn't look back at her. “You can't choose?”
She had to laugh. “You seriously think I choose to be resurrected?”
“You sign up to die,” he pointed out.
“It's good pay,” she responded, feeling a bit winded. Adrien was taller than her and wasn't trying to slow down his walk so she could match him. “And I might as well put it to good use, I guess. Better than having others die from being bait.”
He scoffed. “Noble.”
“What is your problem?” she demanded. “You hate me for no reason!”
He glanced over his shoulder to shoot her a dirty look. “You're annoying to work with.”
“Well, I'm all you've got,” Marinette retorted. “Would it kill you to be a bit nicer?”
“No.”
“I haven't done anything!”
“Can you be quiet?” It didn't sound like a question. “I need to listen.”
“How about you fucking tell me?” she complained.
He sighed.
She shut up.
Their target was in a restaurant, eating with a group of people as though everything was normal. There was nothing glaringly wrong about them that would tip everyone off that they were a murderer.
Sometimes, humans weren't equipped to deal with supernaturals. Some accepted their fate and didn't fight the human police forces, while others reacted with their powers and fled, or were doing supernatural crimes from the start that humans were baffled by.
Not every officer was aware of everything.
And those that were were called in for help when the crimes were too extreme. Marinette was only willing to put her body on the line because of the amount of money she was paid each time. It was worth putting up with Adrien's attitude when she checked her bank account.
That night, it ended up with her approaching the target when they were getting into their car.
Her body was dragged into the woods nearby.
She woke up in a hole, covered in mud. Either the target hadn't finished burying her or Adrien had at least moved the dirt away from her face.
The latter was the least likely.
“Hi.”
She tensed.
“Marinette?” Adrien questioned, sounding closer that time. “Do you live near here?”
It was the worst time to meet him. She was tired from work, covered in icing from where it had missed the apron, and all she wanted to do was curl up in bed. It was the empty fridge that had her trudging to a local supermarket instead of the bigger one that she normally went to.
Now, she was regretting her choice.
She took a step back, clutching onto the shopping basket tighter. “Why?”
“Not to be weird!” he hastily reassured her, looking a little embarrassed. “I just—I didn't expect to see you here.”
“At a supermarket?” she asked.
“Yes, exactly,” he replied, relieved.
“Why wouldn't I be here?” Marinette questioned, taking another step back to put some distance between them. “I need to shop.”
“I—yes, of course,” Adrien stuttered out, visibly flustered. “I'm sorry, I'm not good with words.”
This wasn't the guy who complained at her every move.
Cautiously, she asked, “Do you... live near here?”
He brightened up, taking her question to be one of interest. “Yes! I didn't realise there'd be a shop so close when I moved here. It's definitely nice that I can just walk out to buy some milk.”
“Milk,” she repeated, bewildered.
Adrien was talking to her about milk instead of criticising her outfit.
He held up the milk he had in his hands.
“Oh,” she said. “I didn't notice.”
He laughed.
She didn't say anything that funny.
“How have you been?” Adrien questioned. “Chloé mentioned that you've been sick.”
It surprised her. “Uh, what?”
“That's why you haven't been coming out front at the bakery?” he replied, though there was a questioning lilt at the end. “Not that I'm waiting for you to come out or anything. That would be weird.”
She swallowed. “You're weird.”
His smile showed dimples on his cheeks.
She stared.
His ears were red.
And how strange was that? It proved that Adrien could interact with someone normally instead of complaining about every little thing they did.
Then, she remembered that Chloé said that he had no friends.
Marinette asked, “Why did you move here?”
Adrien adjusted his grip on the milk jug. “Not for this shop, obviously.”
She didn't laugh.
He cleared his throat. “A fresh start, I guess? And I thought it would be nice to see Chloé again. We started to catch up a couple of months ago and I... forgot how being normal felt.”
There was a lot that she could take from that.
Yet, all she could ask was, “Normal?”
“Uh, nothing,” Adrien hastily said, realising his mistake. “It's nothing.”
She squinted.
“Chloé doesn't exactly treat people nicely,” he clarified, glancing away from her before shyly meeting her eyes. “It's nice. She doesn't—she doesn't lie. That's what I want.”
Marinette frowned. “You want people not to lie to you?”
“Wouldn't you?” he questioned. “It's tiring being around people-pleasers all of the time.”
“That's one way of telling me that you're someone important,” she remarked.
He winced. “Is it?”
“Or really rich.”
“Only a bit rich,” he corrected.
She'd seen his car, but she wasn't going to say that.
Marinette took another step back, swapping the hand that she was holding the shopping basket in. “I should get back to shopping.”
“Oh, right,” Adrien said, straightening up. “I'm sorry for holding you up.”
“You should be,” she replied.
He looked dumbfounded.
She almost laughed. “Bye.”
“Bye, Marinette,” he called out, sounding breathless.
She almost ran to the other aisle.
Marinette woke up to the sound of her phone ringing.
Chloé greeted her with, “Adrien's asking about you.”
“You woke me up for that?” she complained.
“What am I supposed to say?” Chloé hissed.
“That I have a cold?” she questioned. “What the hell kind of excuse is that? You didn't even give me a heads up about it.”
Chloé demanded, “How did you find out?”
“I met him at the store,” Marinette replied, pressing her face further into the pillow. “Didn't he say?”
“No, he didn't!” Chloé exclaimed.
She winced. “Too loud.”
“That little shit,” Chloé continued, ignoring her last statement. “He kept saying that he hasn't seen you for ages.”
“Let's try and keep it that way,” Marinette muttered.
“Should I be worried?” Chloé questioned.
“That he wants to see me?” she asked. And when Chloé made an affirmative noise, she replied, “I don't know. I can't tell whether he has bad intentions or not.”
Chloé quietly inquired, “What does that even mean?”
“That I don't know if he wants to kill me or not,” Marinette replied honestly. “I don't know him at all. He was very... happy when he saw me, though. It was creepy.”
Chloé swallowed audibly. “I thought he was just into you.”
“Just assume the worst from now on,” she suggested.
Chloé exclaimed, “He's my friend!”
“Yeah, and so am I,” Marinette responded. “Did you even check out those sites I sent you?”
“Yes, but none of them mentioned anything about wanting to kill other supes,” Chloé replied, sounding frustrated. “How am I supposed to know what's going on if you won't tell me?”
It sounded like something she'd say around Adrien. “You're not.”
“Real helpful, thanks,” Chloé snapped back.
She laughed. “Sorry, I'm keeping it a secret.”
“Don't apologise if you're gonna keep being a dick,” Chloé chastised.
“I'm mysterious,” she replied.
“You're a pain in my ass.”
Marinette snickered. “Am I?”
Chloé hung up on her.
They were in the woods again.
Marinette had on combat boots that time, though they were more for the style than functionality. They gave her a bit of height and looked great with her outfit and that had been what she'd wanted at the time.
Chloé had invited her out for a drink.
Then, the police contacted her.
Chloé was suddenly under the impression that she had a terrible stomachache and needed to stay home.
With the knowledge that Adrien lived nearby, she was more conscious about how long it would take her to get to the destination. When it was combined with her driving to a nearby station to pick up a new vehicle to drive in in her disguise, there was enough time to make him think that she lived further away.
It would do no good to have him know anything about her.
Besides, Adrien wasn't interested.
There was no torch for her that time either, so she was using her phone again. Leaves crunched under her boots, her jacket was thick enough to stop the branches from scratching her, and there was still some light coming through the trees.
“Is it a wolf this time?” she questioned.
Adrien didn't answer.
“Any info will be good,” Marinette continued on. “I hate getting my throat ripped out the most. No one ever goes for the stomach, you know? It's an immediate kill or nothing.”
“Shouldn't you be happy you're not being tortured to death?” he asked, sounding bored.
She snorted. “Maybe it'll spice up my night a bit.”
“You said you don't like prolonging it,” he pointed out.
Marinette was surprised. “You were actually listening?”
“You talk enough for some of it to get through to me,” Adrien replied, swatting a branch out of his way.
“Right, I forgot that I can't do anything right,” she grumbled.
He didn't reply.
It was frustrating.
What did she do so wrong? Adrien had been excited to see her in the store before; he'd been all smiles and blushing, while now the most she got was a sarcastic laugh. It wasn't as though her personality was completely different—she'd been herself!
“Why do you hate me?” she demanded.
Adrien didn't hesitate. “I don't hate you.”
“You hate being around me,” she corrected. “Why?”
It caught her off-guard when he replied, “You smell bad.”
“What?”
“Your smell,” he said, gesturing to his neck. “It's horrible. That necklace makes it pungent and all wrong. It gives me a headache.”
The necklace that was protecting her by changing her appearance was the problem?
It was almost poetic how stupid that was.
She clenched her hand into a fist. “You can't be serious.”
“There's too much magic in it,” Adrien remarked.
“You mean to tell me,” she started, breathing out audibly in an attempt to reign in her anger. “The reason you've been so shitty with me is because you've always got a fucking headache?”
“Migraine might be better,” he mused.
She resisted the urge to kick him.
“You're a jerk,” she accused.
Adrien snorted. “Sure.”
“You could've told me!” Marinette exclaimed, getting heated. “All these months and you—”
He put his hand over her mouth to forcefully stop her from speaking. The grip was so tight that she made a choked noise in surprise, only for him to dig his nails into her skin.
“Shut up,” Adrien demanded. “Do you want to give us away? We don't want to alert them that we're here.”
God, she hated him.
He shot her a look of loathing. “You're loud and unprofessional. I'd dislike you even if you didn't mask your smell.”
Marinette glared up at him.
He kept his hand tightly over her mouth.
There wasn't a lot of trust between them.
And it was for a good reason when Marinette's job was to walk in and die to cause a distraction first. The ones they were contracted to find and kill wouldn't be aware of her powers, and they never lived to pass on gossip about her afterwards. She was the perfect victim for them every time.
Adrien's job was to use brute force and clean up while the target was busy with her corpse.
He wasn't there to protect her; he didn't care how hurt she got, never stuck around to see her reanimate, and now she knew that that was all because of her smell.
Adrien was infuriating.
There was a way to tell someone that they smelled bad! It wasn't to snap and argue with them for months before coming out with it in a way that sounded like an excuse.
Except—
Adrien had a sensitive nose, she knew that. All of his senses were heightened because of his species—such as him being able to see in the dark and not providing her with a torch—yet she'd never thought that one of those would be the reason.
Slowly, he took his hand away from her mouth.
She was still glaring at him.
That day, their target didn't kill her immediately.
It wasn't a wolf like the last time they were in the woods. Sadly, Marinette ended up breathing heavily on the ground with her arm torn off, slowly bleeding out.
Her vision was blacking out.
There was the soft crunch of leaves.
“Hey,” Adrien said, crouching down in front of her.
She could barely focus her eyes. The pain was too much and blood loss was kicking in. It was a feat that she was still conscious at all.
“Hold still,” he demanded, wrapping his hand around her neck.
Her head felt heavy.
He snapped her neck.