Adrien was beginning to think that, maybe, picking Nino for the Turtle miraculous had been a bad idea. For one, he was just too good at it. And, for two, he had way too many smart things to say—both in wit and wisdom. Granted, Adrien had already known Nino was intelligent (even if Nino didn't believe it himself), but he hadn't anticipated his friend's words would haunt him as heavily as they did.
As of the Saturday before—when he'd finally opened up about Volpina—Adrien had been certain of his actions. He'd known they would bother his teammates, but he'd thought it through enough to feel that the pros outweighed the cons. Of course, he'd assumed Mari would be peeved, and that Nino would be annoyed.
But, somehow, those evaluations didn't seem totally accurate, not now that he was dealing with the real consequences.
Dressed in his bed slacks, he stood some three meters away from the rock-climbing wall, an orange bouncy ball in his hand. Methodically, he tossed it, letting it bounce from the wall to the floor and back into his hand. Over and over, brows knitted together in tandem with his distracted thoughts.
He understood why Mari was angry—his plan was dangerous. She didn't like it when he put himself in danger. He also assumed that part of her was uncomfortable with the idea of him and Volpina being together. Not that they were really "together," but that was beside the point.
Yet, her reaction had still taken him... somewhat aback. Or, rather, the longer they went on without some sort of resolution, the further the stone in his gut sank, until a knot of nerves had him so uptight that he couldn't even sit still.
He'd anticipated Mari being mad. But this... this was different.
"You're literally hurting her by doing this."
Those had been Nino's words, and were the words that continued to drift in and out of Adrien's thoughts. Of all the outcomes he'd considered, that Mari would be hurt hadn't been one of them. That had never been his intention. None of it was real, after all, and, even if it was, he and Mari, they weren't...
They hadn't talked about being more than they were—whatever that was. But maybe that was part of the problem. The lack of certainty could lead to all sorts of conclusions. But still, even if Mari... Even if she wanted that from him, this was a job. It wasn't personal.
Or it wasn't supposed to be.
"Are you going to bounce that thing all night?" Plagg droned from up above, where Adrien had told him he had to stay. In case Volpina showed up. "You're starting to get on my nerves."
Grabbing hold of the ball, Adrien refrained from bouncing it again. The lack of motion, of regularity, allowed his chest to swell with what was becoming a regular sense of doubt.
"Hey, Plagg?" he asked after a moment. "You've been quiet about this whole Volpina thing. What do you think?"
"Why does it matter what I think?" Plagg asked. "You're not going to listen anyway."
A response that caused Adrien to turn and look up at the kwami. He was sitting on the banister, a piece of cheese in his little paws as he blinked back. The words had drawn a frown in Adrien's lips, the expression eventually pulling a sigh from Plagg's little body.
"Look, I'm all for you finally standing up for yourself and doing what you want," he explained. "But you've kind of stopped listening to other people in your quest for self-discovery." He popped the cheese into his mouth, before swallowing. "It's one thing to be self-aware and quite another to be self-righteous."
"You think I'm self-righteous?" Adrien asked, tone sharp.
"I think you're trying to do what's best for everyone without asking everyone what they want."
