#reading to you. endless compliments and coos at literally anything you do

[sugurusladyknightt]

suguru and reader who hasn't yet grasped what it means to be in a relationship with him so he has to coddle you tenfold to help you understand

[mikauzoran]

Ladrien: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Eleven

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Eleven: Honest Conversations

“Wow,” Adrien breathed as he looked down at Paris stretching out before him from the top of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica.

While it was true that the Eiffel Tower was taller, from the top of that monument, the city seemed to spread out on all sides in an endless web. From the roof of the church on top of the hill, Paris spilled forth like a waterfall or the train of a wedding gown, perfect and beautiful like a carpet of blue and white flowers.

“It’s gorgeous up here.” He suddenly realized that he’d never seen this view before. Not really. Not like this.

He’d been to Montmartre for akuma attacks in the past, but he’d only been there for the fight, and he’d had to hurry back to whatever photoshoot or class or other obligation he’d left behind.

He’d never stopped to really see what his city looked like from this vantage point, so staring at it now with his Lady still with her arm partially around him, not having yet stepped back after setting him down… It took his breath away.

“Yeah,” she whispered reverently, savoring the moment.

They stood there together for a long stretch, transfixed, until it occurred to Ladybug that she still had her arm wrapped around his waist despite the fact that there was no longer any need.

She cleared her throat and smiled bashfully as she slipped away. “You…um…you have a beautiful singing voice.”

He returned the smile, rubbing at the back of his neck, embarrassed and pleased at her praise. “You think so? Thank you. I’ve been singing for a long time. Since I was a child,” he added for context. “My mother was a stage actor. She did musicals often, and, for a few years, she got it into her head that she wanted to be an opera singer. She got a vocal coach,” he chuckled fondly at the memory. “I used to hide in the music room and spy on her lessons. Then, I’d sing along with her when she practiced. I grew up singing Bellini and Rossini and Puccini.”

Suddenly, he realized he was monopolizing the conversation and immediately sought to rectify the situation. “Sorry. I’m rambling. I like singing. I’m glad you think I’m good at it. You have a really pretty voice too.”

She blushed, waving away his compliment as she went to retrieve the wicker picnic basket from where she had stowed it earlier at the seam where the slightly slanted roof met the base of the tower supporting one of Sacré-Coeur’s iconic, turnip-like domes.

“I’m just glad I didn’t make your ears bleed,” she snickered self-deprecatingly. “Like I said, I’m not a good solo singer.”

“I don’t know,” he hummed skeptically. “I like your voice, Nelle. Will you at least agree that we make beautiful music together?”

She had to try not to laugh as he waggled his eyebrows at her. “Okay,” she relented. “Yes. The duet was actually really nice. I liked that.”

“We’ll have to do it again sometime?” he replied hopefully, but it sounded more like a question, as if he were unsure whether lightning would strike the same place twice and he’d get another date with her.

She had gone into this with the intention of this being a one-time thing, but…he was looking at her so hopefully, and she couldn’t bear to break his heart.

“Of course,” she promised, setting down the picnic basket and spreading out the blanket. “One way or another, we’ll get together and sing more Disney songs. This was fun,” she assured, not certain if that would be with Ladybug, but she would definitely follow up with him as Marinette, if not.

“Oh, good,” he chuckled giddily in relief, rushing to help her smooth out the blanket. “I think I tried to warn you that I was a dork, but I’m not sure you truly got the full picture. I was a little afraid I’d scared you off.”

“Not at all!” she insisted, taking a seat and beginning to unpack all of the goodies she’d packaged up in Tom and Sabine’s takeaway boxes earlier that afternoon. “I’m having fun with you.”

“Good,” he reiterated, the dread and worry beginning to fade.

“And I liked hearing about your mom before,” she added, stopping to look up and meet his gaze. “Seriously. You weren’t rambling. I…I want to get to know you better, Adrien, so…I’m happy when you share things like that with me.”

The sincerity of her smile nearly made him forget how to breath.

“Oh.” A grin slowly spread across his lips, making his face shine in joy. “Thanks. I’m really glad.”

“You’re very welcome,” she assured, blushing down at the pastry boxes. She got out the tiered serving tray and started to open up the boxes and arrange the miniature blackcurrant scones, golden raisin scones, strawberry jam, and clotted cream on the bottom tier.

“Wow,” Adrien breathed in wonder, eyes widening as Ladybug unpacked an assortment of mini tarts, trifles, petit fours, and macarons for the top tier. “This spread is amazing, and I can tell you have good taste. Tom and Sabine are the best in the business.”

“Well, Marinette actually made all this,” she confessed, taking out a variety of finger sandwiches (egg salad, tuna salad, smoked salmon, and cucumber) and placing them carefully on the second tier of the tray. “But she learned from the best, so the quality should still be passable.”

Adrien’s eyes went even wider. “Marinette made all this?”

Ladybug’s blush flared up as she nodded. “Yep. I actually know her, so…”

“Wow,” Adrien reiterated, taking in the array of items with renewed appreciation. “She’s so unbelievably talented!”

He was going to give her a heart attack if he started gushing about her civilian self again.

“Look at how neatly she’s cut off the crusts! And the way she’s placed the berries on this tart just so…” He shook his head, blown away by Marinette’s many skills. “She’s just so incredible. I can’t believe she does so many things so well, you know? She’s amazing at everything she sets her mind to.”

Then he looked at her with the most earnest smile, and she was a goner.

“She’s…something all right,” she laughed nervously, trying to remember how to breathe through her nose.

Adrien frowned, picking up on her unease. “I’m really sorry. It’s kind of weird that I’m talking about another girl on our date, isn’t it?”

“No, no!” she rushed to assure him, waving her hands in a flurry and almost knocking over the tiered tray. “It’s okay. No worries. I mean, I’m the one who brought her up. I’m sure she’d be really happy to know you thought so highly of her.”

“I hope so,” he chuckled, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “We’re pretty close, since we’ve been friends for years, but I’m a little socially awkward, so I worry sometimes that I’m a little too effusive. I’m sure it’s kind of annoying to listen to me rant about her all the time.”

“I would never get tired of you ranting like that about me,” Ladybug insisted, sounding almost breathless.

He blinked and then grinned. “Oh. Good. Duly noted…. Because you’re sort of phenomenal. Like, has anyone ever told you that you’re radiant when you’re solving one of your Lucky Charms? And your laugh is endearing.”

“Oh,” she responded in a daze, unprepared to find herself in his crosshairs.

“Your smile? Killer,” he praised. “And that’s just you physically. Don’t get me started on how noble and brave and clever and funny you are.”

“I’ll be sure not to because I think I’d overheat and pass out if you did,” she laughed, only partially kidding.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he snickered impishly. “I’ll be sure to save some compliments for later, then. Sound good?”

She nodded, turning back to the food. “So…afternoon tea.” She carefully got out the plates, saucers, and cups, making sure they sat still on the inclined roof before retrieving the thermos of mint tea from the wicker picnic basket. “Marinette happened to mention that you’re something of a pescatarian, so I hope the sandwich varieties are to your liking.”

He gave a bit of a start. “You and Marinette talked about me?”

“Just a little,” she rushed to assure, hands going up in defence. “Nothing, like, too weird or anything. Nothing especially personal. I didn’t pump your friends for information about you or anything, but when I was placing the order with Marinette, I just happened to ask her if she knew if you had any preferences, so…”

“No, it’s okay,” he assured. “You were being thoughtful, and I really appreciate that.”

He attempted to fight the sinking feeling caused by Marinette knowing that he was on a date with Ladybug. She certainly wasn’t going to be inviting him out for a coffee date now, and that realization disappointed him. He felt like he was missing out…even thought that was ridiculous because he’d been dreaming of a date with Ladybug for years, and, now, here he was literally living a long-standing dream, but…

“I actually do eat meat,” he informed her with a smile, forcing himself to get out of his own thoughts and back into the present moment where he was having a lovely rooftop picnic with Ladybug. “If it’s set in front of me, anyway. I don’t particularly like it, and I wouldn’t choose it of my own volition if there were other things to pick, but…thank you. I really do appreciate you being so thoughtful. It was really nice of Marinette to come up with so many different pescatarian-friendly options.”

“She knows you don’t really get to make decisions a lot, so she wanted you to have a selection,” Ladybug replied, not sure why she was putting in a good word for her apparent “love rival”.

“Aww,” Adrien cooed. “That was so sweet of her. I don’t know what I did to deserve such wonderful, caring women in my life.”

“You’re pretty wonderful yourself,” she added bashfully, making him blush as a pleased smile slowly spread across his lips.

“Thank you for thinking so,” he hummed happily, drinking in the perfection of the moment.

“Of course.” She returned his grin.

“…So.” He cleared his throat. “What kind of tea are we drinking?”

“Mint,” she replied and then watched his face closely for a reaction, trying not to appear to be doing so. “I know it doesn’t exactly go with the rest of the menu items, but Marinette mentioned that it was a favourite of yours, so…”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep in the broad, beaming smile that was trying to rip his face in half with its force and radiance. “It’s… My mom used to make mint tea for us when we had a bad day. It’s a comfort food for me.”

“Ooooh,” Ladybug sang over three pitches, eyes widening as she pretended that this was news to her. “Well, that makes sense why Marinette suggested it, then.” Cautiously, she poured them each a cup.

“Marinette is a pretty good wingman,” Adrien observed, appreciating how well his friend knew him.

“She’s doing pretty well so far,” Ladybug chuckled, handing him one of the small dessert plates. “Go ahead and dig in. Don’t hold back on my account.”

“If you insist,” he replied politely, needing no further urging as he took a cucumber sandwich and a blackcurrant scone to start with.

Ladybug helped herself to one of the petit fours, a raspberry and custard mini tart, and one of the golden raisin scones. “So…do you mind me asking why you’re not such a big fan of meat? Is it the texture?” she inquired.

Marinette already knew the story, but she knew it was a good way to get Adrien talking.

“My mom was kind of one of those crazy vegetarians,” Adrien chuckled sheepishly, a fond expression settling onto his face. “Not that there’s anything wrong with being passionate about animal rights or anything. It is important, but my mom was a little extreme,” he explained, lest Ladybug think ill of him. “Like, she’d always try to get my father to stop eating meat by making tortured mooing sounds while he ate steak or by describing in gross detail all the bad things that the people raising the animals did to them and how they slaughtered them.”

Ladybug winced even though she’d heard the story before because she knew how Émilie had inadvertently traumatized Adrien as a child. “I bet that made for…um…an unpleasant dining experience.”

Adrien shrugged, looking down at his plate. “My father thought it was amusing, actually. He made a big show of enjoying his meal because he knew it drove her nuts.” Adrien’s fond smile shifted into a bit of a grimace. “I was kind of freaked out, though. For the longest time, I thought that the animals could still feel pain after they were dead, so I always used to cry when I was served meat.”

Until his father had severely punished him and let him know that that was not acceptable behavior, Adrien had confessed to Marinette several years before.

Adrien reinforced his grin and chuckled lighthearted, trying to keep up a jovial mood. “I got over that phase, but since I had such negative associations with meat as a child, I never really developed a taste for it. I’ll eat it if it’s put in front of me, but I’d rather eat other things.”

“But you eat fish and seafood?” she asked in seemingly earnest interest as she nibbled on her petit four. She always loved his next line.

“Well, yeah,” Adrien chuckled genuinely this time. “Shrimp and lobster and clams and snails all taste delicious in butter. My mom always used to say, ‘Fish don’t count. They swim’.”

Ladybug put a hand over her mouth as she laughed. “Did she eat seafood often?”

Adrien shook his head. “No. No, she didn’t, but I think she felt so bad about causing me to have an existential crisis over eating meat that she was trying to make me feel better.”

Ladybug nodded, smiling warmly. “That was nice of her. Didn’t you get confused, though? I mean, other things swim besides fish.”

He giggle-snorted. “I did. I was very, very confused, so I just went with whatever my parents told me to eat. Is it any wonder dessert ended up being my favourite part of the meal? There’s nothing complicated about cake.”

“Amen to that,” Ladybug snickered, popping the mini raspberry tart into her mouth. “…Talk more about your mom. I mean, only if you want,” she hastily amended. “It’s just…it sounds like you have a lot of happy memories with her, and I was thinking that maybe…maybe you don’t get to talk about her a lot.”

She bit her lip, smiling tentatively, hoping she hadn’t miscalculated. She remembered him saying something to that effect to Marinette at some point.

“You don’t mind?” he inquired warily, wondering if she was just trying to be nice but wasn’t actually interested.

Most people couldn’t deal with all the baggage he had surrounding his mother, their complicated relationship, and her disappearance. He didn’t want to dump too much on Ladybug too soon right when they were just getting to know one another.

“I really want to know,” she insisted, leaning back and supporting her weight with one hand propped behind her. “I like hearing you talk.”

“Okay,” he agreed cautiously, taking a bite of his cucumber sandwich as he mentally fished for a suitable topic concerning his mother. “…I mentioned she was a stage actor. I used to spend a lot of time backstage with her. I got to see a lot of rehearsals and performances from behind the scenes.”

“Oooh, I bet that was really neat,” she cooed, watching as his eyebrows danced in excitement.

“It was!” he affirmed enthusiastically. “The theatre has always been a really magical place for me. I loved seeing how everything came together, how all the sets slowly coalesced into enchanted castles or Victorian sitting rooms or undersea grottos. How props were made and how costumes and lighting were designed. I always felt at home backstage,” he confessed wistfully.

“You sound like you miss it,” she noted quietly.

He nodded, his smile turning sad. “She disappeared seven years ago, and my father hasn’t really wanted anything to do with the theatre since then. It reminds him too much of her.”

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug offered helplessly, wishing she could soften his pain.

Adrien shrugged and tried to force his lips back into a neutral smile. “It is what it is. I mean, I’ve seen plays and musicals and operas since then, but…it’s not really the same as being on the other side of the curtain. I think the closest I’ve come is doing some voice acting. That’s similar in some ways, but…you know. Not really…. I actually did some acting myself when I was younger.”

She leaned back in, resting her elbows on her knees as she focused her attention on him. “Oh, yeah? I didn’t know that.”

She’d seen him participate in Nino’s movie projects and some school plays, but his father had never allowed him more than a bit part because his modeling and extracurricular activities schedule was already so full.

He nodded, enthusiasm slowly coming back. “My first role was when I was a baby and my mom was staring in A Streetcar Named Desire. I’ve been in a lot of shows with my mom. Some on my own too, but…nothing recently.” He gave a little sigh of discontentment.

“Have you ever thought about taking it up again?” she timidly pressed.

He paused, considering, surprised at her suggestion. “I hadn’t…actually thought of that. I mean…acting was something I really loved, so…”

His eyebrows slid together into a frown. “…My father would never let me, though. It’s too much Maman’s thing. It could never be mine. He wouldn’t like it.”

“No disrespect, but you’re legally an adult. And it’s your life, Adrien, not your father’s, so I don’t actually think he gets a say in whether you try out for some community theatre show or take an acting class next semester,” Ladybug replied, trying to keep the heat and annoyance she felt for Gabriel Agreste out of her voice.

Adrien blinked, staring at her for a good ten seconds before reacting with an “Oh” of enlightenment. “Yeah. I…You’re right. I could totally do that.”

“And you should,” she encouraged with a wide smile. “If that’s something you decide you want to do, I mean. Never let other people dictate how you live your life, Adrien. You should do what makes you happy first and foremost. So long as you’re not hurting anyone, you should just do whatever you want.”

He hummed thoughtfully as he finished off his cucumber finger sandwich and reached for another one. “…I think you’re onto something, Nelle. Acting used to be really important to me, and I even dreamed about doing it professionally when I was little, just like Maman. I think I’d like to give it a try again. At the very least, maybe it will help me reconnect with some of my memories of her. I know it can never be like how it was when we were onstage together, but…I’m sure it will still be a meaningful experience.”

“Definitely!” She nodded enthusiastically. “I hope so, anyway. It sounds like you and your mom were really close, so it would be great if you found a way to tap into something you used to share together again. Kind of like how you two used to make mint tea and salads when you were having a bad day.”

Adrien opened his mouth to reply but then stopped as his brain caught up with what she had said.

An impish grin unfurled across his lips. “I never told you about making salads with my mom.”

Ladybug’s eyes went wide in a panic at her slipup. “Yes, you did.”

He shook his head slowly, smirk growing larger. “No. I only told you about the mint tea. Marinette told you about the salads…. You did pump my friend for information about me, didn’t you, Nelle? Admit it,” he chuckled, having way too much fun with this.

“Just a little bit!” she protested, fiddling with her pink sunglasses as her entire face started to burn. “Marinette was the one who just went off gushing about you completely unsolicited!”

She should have been concerned with how easy it was to throw herself under the bus, but, in that moment, she was more than happy to make this Marinette’s problem so that Ladybug didn’t have to deal with it.

“She did?” Adrien asked breathlessly, as if in awe at the very thought of Marinette Dupain-Cheng gushing about him.

Ladybug froze. “Um…yeah. I mean… To be fair, she just wanted you to have a really nice date, so…so she told me some things she thought would help.”

A faint blush spread across the bridge of Adrien’s nose, and his smug grin morphed into a warm smile, touched by Marinette’s thoughtfulness. “That was really sweet of her,” he mumbled almost to himself. “She’s such a wonderful friend.”

Ladybug averted her eyes so as not to overheat and die from an overdose of Adrien’s adorableness.

“Yeah,” she chuckled nervously. “Marinette’s great.”

“Sorry,” Adrien groaned, catching himself. “We’re going to have to have some kind of rule about how we’re not allowed to talk about Marinette or something because it’s really hard for me not to rant about how awesome she is whenever someone brings her up. I’m sorry my crush on her is so obnoxious,” he apologized with a wince.

“No, it’s fine. Really,” she insisted, feeling bad for making him feel guilty. “I get it. It’s not a problem. I think it’s really sweet, actually.”

“Oh, good,” he laughed, giving the back of his neck a rub. “Because I know I’m kind of breaking one of the top five rules of dating by talking about another girl, but…”

He shook his head and looked out at the city, taking in the view. “…Anyway…. You wanted to hear more about my mom?”

“Mmhm,” she encouraged softly, starting on her scone.

“I was really close to her,” he added with a fond sort of melancholy. “Over the years, I’ve started to realize that she was far from perfect. She didn’t always get it right, but she tried really hard, and I knew she loved me, so…”

Ladybug nodded, commiserating. “My parents don’t always get it right either, but knowing that they love me no matter what is a big deal. It makes it easier to forgive them when they slip up and easier to ask for forgiveness when I’m the one in the wrong.”

Adrien hummed softly, mentally conjuring up an image of Ladybug’s parents, not for the first time. He’d always imagined them as fun and loving and energetic and encouraging. He’d always imagined them a little bit like Tom and Sabine. The anecdotes Ladybug had shared with Chat Noir reminded him of the Dupain-Chengs and his experiences with them as both Chat and Adrien.

“I still have a lot that I can’t really forgive my parents for,” Adrien whispered sadly, remembering the times when his mother had taken out her stress and mental health issues on him and the times when his father had been cold and distant when Adrien needed his love and support the most.

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug mumbled, regretting her part in summoning that rueful smile to Adrien’s lips.

He shook his head, and his grin went back to a careful neutral. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” she assured. “I just feel bad for making you sad and…I don’t know…rubbing my family situation in your face? I didn’t mean to do that. I mean—”

“—No worries,” he cut her off before she could spiral further into guilt and awkwardness. “It’s…yeah.” He blew out a sigh as he tried to think of the best way to explain it. “It’s fine for you to talk about your family. It’s okay that you’re happy and that you have a good relationship with them. It’s great even. I’m actually really happy for you.”

“Oh,” she replied, her defences starting to come down. “I’m not making you feel bad or anything?”

He shook his head again. “What really makes me feel bad is making other people feel bad or awkward or whatever,” he confessed. “I know my father isn’t the best sometimes, and I know my mother either got murdered or abandoned me or something, so I know my homelife is really messed up, but…there were good times too. I had happy moments with my family, so… It’s okay.”

He caught her gaze and held it, his eyes completely earnest. “The best thing you can do is treat me like I’m like anyone else. Pretend I’m ‘normal’.” He put the word in air quotes and snickered, lightheartedly rolling his eyes. “Whatever that’s supposed to mean, you know? Just pretend I’m normal, and don’t feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”

She slowly began to nod. “Okay. All right. Thank you. I think I can do that.”

“Good,” he sighed in relief, looking back down at his plate. “And I apologize in advance if I say something that makes you uncomfortable. Like I said, I know my family is messed up, but it’s kind of what I’m used to, so…sometimes I just want to talk about things and not have people freak out on me. So…if I ever say something and you think, ‘Wow. His father is a real jerk’, I already know that, but…it’s my reality, so if you could just pretend I’m normal and not bring up things like ‘abuse’ and ‘neglect’, that would be really great.”

He looked back up at her with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I don’t know if that made any sense, but I’m just kind of sensitive about it.”

“No, it did,” she assured, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm as she gave him a bolstering smile. “I get it. Sometimes you just want to talk about your experiences without having to worry about the other person thinking about you differently or treating you like you’re a freak. I get that from years of being Ladybug and not having anyone but Chat Noir and my kwami Tikki to process that with, so…I’ll do my best,” she promised. “I’d like to be a safe space for you so that you can just talk and vent without having to worry.”

He rested his hand on top of hers, relishing the skin-on-skin contact their suits had always deprived them of.

“Thank you,” he stressed sincerely. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you just trying. Not a lot of people even get what I’m talking about most of the time, so… Thanks.”

The warm gratitude contained in his smile made her heart feel like it was about to burst. “You’re very welcome.”

“So,” he chuckled softly, returning to the food as he released her hand and she pulled back. “Um…I’ve always admired my mother. She dealt with a lot with my father’s career. She never wanted to be a society wife, and I know what it’s like for me to have to go out there with my public persona and deal with the media and everyone’s opinion of me, so I know it’s tough. I know it must have been tough for her. She struggled a lot with mental health too, so it was really hard for her at times, but she always gave her acting her all. She loved it,” he informed with a fond smile. “She was always so passionate about her job, and I wanted that for myself. I wanted to do something that I could really throw myself into and derive a sense of satisfaction from.”

“You don’t feel that way about modeling, do you?” Ladybug remarked sadly.

As much as Marinette had always been a fan of the Gabriel brand and Adrien’s work as a model, she had slowly realized over the years that Adrien modeled for his father more out of obligation and in an attempt to have something in common with him rather than out of any kind of enjoyment of his job.

Adrien grimaced, popping one of the snickerdoodle macarons into his mouth to stall a little before having to answer. “…Honestly? …I hate it.”

Ladybug winced. “Sorry.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “It’s just how things are. I mean, I’ll eventually stop modeling and run the company when the time comes, but…”

“You don’t want to run your father’s company either,” she surmised. “…What are you studying in university?”

“Business,” he sighed, grabbing a lemon curd tart. “I kind of hate that too. I’m not really suited for it. I get by okay and do well in class, but it doesn’t come naturally to me, and I don’t enjoy it the way some of my classmates do.”

“So…other than for the sake of your relationship with your father, why are you doing this to yourself?” she dared to ask the question she had always wondered but never had the nerve to voice as Marinette.

He looked at her for a minute in surprise.

No one had ever asked him that before. No one had ever thought to ask Adrien what he wanted to do with his life, what his dreams were. Everything had always been assumed and planned by someone else, just like all the other aspects of his life had always been.

“I…” He pursed his lips and frowned, trying to come up with a good answer.

Why had he always gone along with it?

…Because that was the way that things had always been.

“I don’t think there is another reason,” he admitted.

“…Is your relationship with your father something you’re willing to be miserable the rest of your life for?” she pressed her luck, feeling emboldened behind her mask.

He looked away and laughed ruefully. “I don’t know how to answer that.”

“That’s okay,” she assured gently. “You don’t have to answer now, but…maybe that’s something you just want to think about going forward?”

He was quiet for a minute as he studied the blackcurrants in the scones. “…What else would I do if I didn’t run Gabriel and model?” he finally asked in a soft, uncertain tone.

“Well…brainstorm a bit,” she encouraged. “What are some things that sound fun? What would you want to do with your life? What do you think would make you happy?”

He pursed his lips and gave his mind permission to go where it willed. “I don’t know. I haven’t exactly let myself think about it because my future has always been set in stone, but…I have daydreamed about what it would be like to be a househusband,” he chuckled.

She couldn’t help but blush as she imagined coming home from her atelier to Adrien in the kitchen with their baby secured to him in a carrier sling and their toddler on his hip while the six-year-old played on the floor of the adjoining den with the dog.

“I think that’s completely impracticable, though, because I lack basic survival skills like the ability to clean a toilet or do laundry,” he added, trying to be honest about his skill set while still not scaring her away.

“Well, you could always learn,” she prompted, not wanting to give up her mental image of Adrien as homemaker.

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’d actually want to be a stay-at-home-dad anyway. Yes, I would love to spend that much time with my kids, but I’ve been stuck at home by myself my whole life. I really want a job where I can get out and interact with my peers, socialize, feel like I’m connected to others. I’m sure being a househusband would be great and rewarding in its own right, but I think I want to work outside of the home at least part-time.”

Ladybug bit her lip, considering his line of reasoning before ultimately deciding that he was right. “Okay. So, what else would you want to do?”

He hummed contemplatively, finishing off his scone as he mulled it over. “Maybe I could do something with piano?”

“That’s a thought,” she replied encouragingly. “You seem to enjoy it when you play with Kitty Section.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m actually a big fan of ragtime and jazz. I like doing piano arrangements of popular songs too. I mean, I do love the classical repertoire as well, but I don’t think I’d enjoying touring as a soloist…if I were even that good,” he snorted disparagingly. “I’m not. My father will be the first to tell you I’m not good enough. I’m a hobbyist, really, so…I don’t think people would pay money to hear me play.”

“Could you teach?” she suggested, throwing the idea out there.

Adrien shrugged, his expression lukewarm. “I mean, I guess I could, but I don’t think I’d actually enjoy it. It’s not my passion. …It would be better than slaving away at my father’s company, though.”

“Well, what’s something you would enjoy?” she kept pressing him, trying to get him to think outside of the box. “You do so many activities. Could you do something with fencing? How about Chinese? Could you go teach French or English or something abroad? Could you be an interpreter? Translator?”

“I could translate manga,” he replied softly, surprised as the idea popped into his head. “I don’t know. That could either be fun or turn something I love into something that stresses me out.”

“It’s an idea, though,” she praised, giving him a wide smile of approval as a reward. “The point is just to get you to weigh your options and think of the possibilities. What else?”

He let out a startled laugh as an idea caught him off guard. “Okay, this is crazy, but I’ve sometimes daydreamed about Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng adopting me and teaching me how to be a baker.”

Her eyes flew open, and she blinked repeatedly in shock. “Oh, but…then you couldn’t marry Marinette.”

The smile fell off his face. “Shoot. That—” He caught himself and cut himself off before he could further explore the consequences of being adopted by the Dupain-Chengs on his love life. “Okay. I just want to point out that you brought up Marinette this time.”

Ladybug raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. Guilty. …What else would you want to do with your life?”

He tapped out a silent melody against his thigh with his left hand as he went back to the mental drawing board. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about being a florist. I think that would be nice, working with flowers and talking to customers. I don’t know much about flowers, but my mother had a garden, and I liked helping her out.”

She nodded supportively. “That’s a realistic idea. Honestly, you’ve probably made or inherited enough money that you don’t necessarily need to worry about working for a living. It should just be an enjoyable job that makes you happy and makes you feel accomplished. If you like working with people, a customer service job is perfectly respectable, even though it doesn’t make much.”

“My father would have a heart attack if I told him I was going to run away and become a shop clerk,” Adrien snickered, imagining the look on Gabriel’s face.

Ladybug had to hold in a burst of laughter at the mental image too and ended up snorting unattractively.

Of course, Adrien thought she had the most gorgeous snort ever.

“If that’s what makes you happy, though,” she pressed. “I don’t want you to end up wasting away, hating your job as a cog in the corporate machine. You deserve better than that.”

“Yeah,” he replied hesitantly. “I think maybe I do.”

“You do. Ask anyone,” she insisted.

He nodded, repeating, “Maybe I do. Maybe I should tell my father I want to…start acting classes next semester.”

“Really?” she asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” he affirmed with a wide smile. “I mean…why not? It’s fun, and I used to be good at it. I think I’m still good at it. I could at least give it a try and see if it sticks because anything would be better than taking over the company. I can always start there and see what happens, see if I find something I like better along the way.”

“Adrien, that’s wonderful!” she cheered, taking him by the hand and squeezing it joyously. “I’m so happy for you! This is definitely a step in the right direction. Like you said, you can go from here and see if you come up with something else you’d rather do, but just taking that first step and trying to find a career you’d enjoy is huge! Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” he chuckled in satisfaction, proud of himself for making such a big decision. “Seriously. Thank you for having this conversation with me. Like Marinette told you, I don’t get to make my own choices much because everything in my life is so structured and things are often decided for me, so this really is a big deal. I hadn’t ever seriously thought about trying to change the course others had set me on. Thank you, Nelle.”

She couldn’t bear to meet his gaze as he beamed at her like she had created the solar system. It was too much for her already overflowing heart.

“You’re welcome,” she mumbled shyly. “I’m really just glad I could help.”

“You did,” he insisted, “and I shall forever be in your debt.”

“I don’t know about that,” she hummed in amusement, giving his hand a squeeze before pulling back and returning to her fast-cooling tea. “So…what kind of roles would you be interested in acting? And would you do stage plays like your mom or musicals or movies or TV shows or what? What kind of characters do you want to play? I can easily see you as the charming romantic male lead,” she chuckled.

He bit his lip and thought for a moment, recalling theatre productions that held special meaning for him. “I’m thinking plays and musicals mostly. Maybe some occasional opera or movies or TV, but mainly the stage. …And…I’m not sure about romantic male leads, honestly.”

She arched an eyebrow in open curiosity. “Oh, no? What kind of characters interest you?”

“Well…” He bit the inside of his cheek, remembering the roles his mother had performed over the years, the characters he’d looked up to and wanted to be like. “I mean, yeah. Obviously, there are some lead male romantic roles that I’d be interested in, but…”

He looked away and scratched at the back of his neck as he tried to decide how and whether to go into it.

He gazed back at her and replied cautiously, “The roles I’m most drawn to are actually female roles. Like Laura in The Glass Menagerie or Shelby in Steel Magnolias or Viola in Twelfth Night or Irina in Three Sisters.”

She blinked in surprise. “O-Oh.”

“I think it’s because I’ve always really admired my mom, and those were the kinds of roles she’d play,” he hastily explained, beginning to fidget with the cuff of his sleeve. “I grew up idolizing these characters and aspiring to be like them. I’ve always identified more strongly with female characters in fiction.”

He looked up nervously to see how she was processing this, and she seemed to be listening with surprised curiosity, no disgust or horror or judgment, so he tentatively continued.

“It’s because of how I was raised. I mean, I’ve always been really sheltered, really controlled and restricted. I know there are strong female characters who shape their own destinies in fiction too, but I saw a lot of movies and read a lot of books where the female characters didn’t always have that power, and I really identified with them,” he explained ruefully, gaze flicking down to the half-eaten lemon curd tart on his plate.

“So the roles I’m more interested in are women who use whatever they have at hand to take control of their lives and make the best of their situations and find happiness, even though the system is stacked against them,” he mumbled, hoping at least some of what he was saying made sense to her.

“…I can see the appeal of portraying a story that aligns more closely with your own,” Ladybug replied carefully, wary of tripping the wrong wire.

He looked up at her in surprise, pleased at her neutral-to-positive response. “Oh, good. Because I was kind of worried about what you would think of me saying, ‘Yeah. I want to cross-dress and play women’s parts’.”

She shook her head, assuring, “No. The way you explained it makes sense. If you identify with the characters, you identify with the characters.”

His dour expression lightened a bit as he nodded, happy that she was hearing him and understanding at least somewhat. “Good. Because…I know everyone always sees me as some handsome, rich, prince-like personality or Paris’s most eligible bachelor, but the truth is, I’m more of a princess.”

Her head tipped to the side curiously at his word choice. “How so?” she inquired carefully, not wanting to step on any toes.

“I told you about how Marinette is a butt-kicking, world-saving princess, right?”

She nodded, remember the conversation they’d had the week before when she’d seen her civilian identity listed as “Princesse” in his phone.

“Well, I’m the ‘princess in a tower’ variety,” he sighed. “I’m a princess trying to break free of her prison so she can find happiness and be her authentic self. I’m not quite sure how I’m going to get there yet, but…I’m working on it.”

Ladybug bit her lip as what Adrien had been saying struck a chord in her mind. “Adrien?” she called tentatively.

“Hm?” He met her gaze.

“I know you said you identified most strongly with female characters,” she proceeded with caution, “but would you also say that you identify more as female yourself?”

He paused and blinked at her as he pondered the question. “…I don’t know,” he replied after careful consideration. “I mean, no, probably not, but I don’t necessarily identify very strongly with the typical male stereotypes either. I’m just me,” he summarized.

She nodded, accepting his answer. “Okay. Thanks for answering.”

“Sure,” he replied with a slowly growing smile. “I mean…I don’t know if that was much of an answer. I’m sure it raised more questions than it put to rest, but…I guess the main thing is that it’s not a big deal to me. I don’t feel uncomfortable in my body, and there’s nothing in particular I feel like I need to change physically or behaviorally. And, besides, the idea of ‘gender’ is just a societal construct that’s completely made up anyway, so I don’t personally feel like it’s important or relevant in my life.”

Ladybug nodded, not really fully understanding but getting the important parts.

“Like I said, there are male roles that I’d want to play too,” he continued, encouraged by her supportive response, “but I wish people wouldn’t freak out if I said I wanted to be Elsa or Elphaba or Jasmine. I wish there weren’t these dumb rules telling me what I’m allowed to do because I have a Y chromosome,” he huffed and then paused as he mentally reviewed the conversation.

“I’m sorry. This is kind of a heavy topic, isn’t it?” he realized, grimacing and hoping he hadn’t freaked her out.

“It’s fine,” she assured. “I mean gender identity isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about too much, so it’s really interesting to hear you talk about it.”

“Sorry,” he repeated, wondering if this was going to come back to bite him. “I realize this is sort of a weird conversation for a first date.” He winced, mumbling, “Maybe this is why I generally don’t get invited on second dates.”

“No. Adrien, you’re seriously fine,” she insisted, giving his sleeve a playful tug. “Thank you for sharing. I’m really glad that you felt comfortable talking about this with me.”

He gave her a scrutinizing look, worried that she was just being nice so that he didn’t get akumatized but secretly planning to never ask him out again. “Are you sure? I haven’t scared you away?”

She shook her head, giving him a kind smile. “No, you goof. Absolutely not. Like I said before, I genuinely want to get to know the real you, Adrien, so I’m actually really excited to learn more about you.”

She seemed sincere, but he was only ninety percent convinced. He’d have to see how the rest of the date went.

“Okay,” he eventually relented. “But…maybe you talk now,” he suggested with a sheepish chuckle. “I feel like I’m monopolizing the conversation with all of my deep, dark confessions. Tell me something about you,” he prompted, peridot eyes gazing hopefully, expectantly, into hers.

She gulped. “Oh. Um…. Okay. I…” She bit her lip, trying to come up with something sufficiently deep that it would balance out the things he had shared with her without being something so personal that it would jeopardize her secret identity.

She looked out at the city and took a deep breath. “I guess…in terms of ‘confessions’…I don’t know if this is necessarily considered a dark secret, but it is something I try to keep hidden.”

“Yeah?” he prompted gently, watching the way the bright, late-afternoon sun lit her face as he sipped at his mint tea.

“I doubt myself a lot,” she confided. “We talked about this a bit last week when I visited to ask you out, but I feel like the public sees me as this infallible, magical machine whom they can always rely on to save the day and figure things out and miraculously fix everything, but…the truth is, under this mask, I’m just a twenty-year-old trying to make it through university and succeed in my career and maybe find love and not screw up too bad.”

She smiled bitterly and shook her head. “I’m not perfect. I mess up. I make really disastrous mistakes sometimes, and there are times when I don’t know what to do.”

She looked up and continued in a slightly guarded tone, “Did you know I almost didn’t become Ladybug?”

His eyes widened as his heart sank at the thought of never meeting her, never fighting by her side, never knowing the joys and pain of loving her. “What?” he breathed.

She shook her head, chuckling ironically. “That first akuma was really rough for me. I had zero self-confidence, and I was totally freaking out. I mean, I was thirteen and a total klutz. I couldn’t even stand up for myself against bullies. How the hell was I supposed to fight supervillains and save Paris?”

“So, what happened?” he pressed, setting aside his teacup.

“I tried to give the earrings to a friend. I slipped them into her bag, but she didn’t find them, and then she was in danger, and…” She shrugged. “I sucked it up and put on the earrings. Mostly it was Chat Noir, though.”

His heart forgot how to beat for a second, and his lungs momentarily stopped functioning. “Chat Noir?”

She nodded, her smile turning warm and affectionate.

He nearly died of happiness on the spot, seeing her wear that expression while thinking about him.

“He believed in me,” she explained, her grin growing wider. “He believed in me and encouraged me to keep going when I didn’t believe in myself. I’m only Ladybug today because of him.”

“Oh,” Adrien exhaled, heart fluttering in his ears.

To hear her say that… He hadn’t known how much his words had meant to her, what an effect he’d had.

“Yeah,” she affirmed, chuckling to herself as she picked up a tuna salad sandwich. “So, I’ve never been very good at being my own cheerleader. I’ve struggled with self-doubt from the very beginning, and I’ve never really gotten much better. I mean, I have gained some self-confidence with each year of experience, but…I still doubt myself all the time.”

“How so?” he inquired.

In truth, he already had a good idea. She’d sometimes confided in Chat Noir about her doubts and sought comfort in his friendship, but he wanted her to feel comfortable telling Adrien as well.

Plagg had been right that the dynamic between Ladybug and Adrien would be different than between Ladybug and Chat Noir, but Adrien wanted to do all that he could to shrink the divide between them as fast as possible.

“Well,” she cleared her throat and looked away with a soft, cherry blossom blush to match her sunglasses. “Just the latest example of me doubting myself and chickening out would be asking you out as Ladybug.”

His eyebrows inched together into a slightly befuddled frown. “How so?”

She bit her lip and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, seeming to size him up as she debated how much to tell him. “…We’ve met before.”

He quirked an eyebrow, thinking that that much was obvious. She’d saved Adrien any number of times over the years.

“When I’m not Ladybug,” she clarified.

“Oh,” he replied, trying not to overreact because he knew she’d freak out if he let slip that he had figured that they knew one another as civilians when she’d asked him out.

“Yeah,” she sighed, still mentally kicking herself. “I could have approached you as myself, but I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes, and I’d heard you were a fan of Ladybug, so…”

“…From Alya?” he deduced.

She gave a start and stared at him like a mouse staring down a cobra. “Ye—No. What? No. Why would I—? …Alya who?”

He snorted in laughter and shook his head. “You know Alya who. The only people who know about my ludicrous crush on you are my friends Nino, Luka, and Alya. Alya told you, didn’t she?”

Ladybug froze in a panic, mind reeling as she tried to process what exactly Adrien thought he knew and how he knew it and what was going on. Eventually, she gave up and admitted defeat.

“She was just trying to give me the confidence to get me to confess to you as me. She didn’t mean to rat you out or anything. She was just trying to help because she knew we both liked one another, so please don’t be mad,” she pleaded, sick with herself at having given Alya away.

Meanwhile, Adrien was internally panicking because Ladybug very much made it sound like Alya knew her secret identity, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that.

On the outside, he kept his composure, pushing away those thoughts for contemplation later and assuring, “I’m not angry. No worries. Like you said, she was just trying to help us.”

Ladybug nodded, sighing half in relief, half in regret. “I should have listened to her. I should have believed in myself a little more and just sucked it up and asked you out as myself instead of hiding behind this mask.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I wish I would have asked you as me.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly, wistfully. “Me too.”

She turned to look at him in open astonishment. “Really? You do?”

He slipped his hand into hers, giving her a glowing smile that lit up his chlorophyll-green eyes. “Yeah, I really do. I know I’d love you under the mask once I got to know you.”

“Oh,” she gasped, her entire being melting even as she wondered how he came up with these lines and delivered them in such a way that the came across as painfully sweet and one hundred percent in earnest.

“Oh,” she repeated, realizing yet again how profoundly she had screwed this up. “I really should have asked you out as me because I don’t think we can keep doing this superhero dating thing,” she confessed in a tortured groan.

His eyes flew open in alarm. “Wait. What?”

He knew that. Deep down, he knew that it couldn’t be, but the prospect of living in a world where he knew she loved him and yet couldn’t be with him was becoming less and less supportable the more time he spent with her pretending that he could have this dream come true without any consequences.

She shook her head, looking down at the basilica roof. “I’m sorry. Just this short time we’ve spent together today has already been incredibly fun. I do like you, and I am having a good time, but the more I think about this all rationally, I don’t think this is tenable.”

He hated when she stopped and thought with her head instead of her heart. He was really enjoying his date with rash, impulsive Ladybug, and he wasn’t quite ready for responsible Ladybug to come back yet.

“I mean,” she continued with a snort, “putting aside all the safety issues, how can you be in a relationship with a girl who lies to you?”

He blinked, taken aback by her point of focus.

“You’re not lying,” he responded automatically, gaping at her in surprise.

She grimaced and sent a sheepish smile his way. “I’m sort of lying,” she haggled. “At the very least, I’m not telling the whole truth…and I feel like a horrible person,” she blew out with a sigh, regretting having sunk this low.

“You’re not a horrible person,” he whispered, scooting in closer and placing a reassuring hand on her back, beginning to rub soothing circles as his other hand gave hers a squeeze. “You’re not. You’re amazing and kind and brilliant and selfless. You’re one of the best people I know, Nelle.”

Her lips were slowly persuaded to form a genuine smile at his unwavering patience and support. “Thank you…. Part of me still feels like a liar, though.”

He bit his lip. “…Well, you’re not a horrible person…and maybe I have my own secrets,” he suggested, trying to lighten the load of guilt upon her shoulders.

She looked up at him, eyes narrowing as they studied his face searchingly. “Adrien…are you…?”

He held his breath, mind and pulse racing as he debated the odds of her having figured him out. She was exceptionally sharp.

“Are you Papillon?” she teased, arching a mock-skeptical eyebrow.

He burst out laughing. “Not…Not to my knowledge,” he managed, half relieved and half disappointed.

“Then, I think I can forgive you,” she informed softly, leaning in to place the daydream of a kiss to his cheek.

He nearly swooned.

“…I just hope you can forgive me,” she added in a dejected whisper.

“I’d forgive you anything…” He touched his lips to her temple, tempted to call her “My Lady” and out himself then and there.

“…Nelle.”