This takes place in the current timeline post-wish maker so mild spoiler warning for those elements but the rest is just going to be ideas that I have. I'm not doing excessive background because it's quite frankly really cringey and annoying and I figure if you're reading a miraculous fan-fic then you probably know the background and I don't need to explicitly tell you what each room looks like.
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Chapter 1:
The gleam of a certain incandescent ray of light falling from the sky onto the pavement was all I remember seeing. My back was pressed into the curve of a tree and I could feel the rough side of the bark digging into my back through my shirt with even the slightest adjustment of my position, so I found much more comfort in staying completely, and utterly still. So still in fact the world seemed to stall at my command just for me and my attention was stolen from the simple task at hand of running a worn-out graphite pencil against a sketching book.
Cars flew by and I could almost feel the current of air they pulled through brush against my nose, brushing loose strands of my hair against my temple back and forth. The kind of peaceful distraction seemed to pursue my face pulling my lips apart and my eyes kind of wide, looking a little disarray but somehow never more together with my body calm and still concealed by just a tiny strip of shadow. I thought it was large enough to hide me away and to the average passerby that remained true but a certain gaze caught sight of me from the steps of the school, and somehow I didn't realize that's who I had hoped to be hidden from.
Dressed in all white holding a fencing helmet in the crater of his side and a duffle bag of sorts hung from his left shoulder. Padding was sewn in across the canvas white slate serving as his frame seemed to steal all those fragments of light creating a sort of blinding surface. I hadn't seen him coming so his words interrupted my state of distracted delirium,
"Marinette?" He said the end of my name, inflicting a certain loose questioning of my existence or so I interpreted, "I thought that was you," He pointed as he grabbed onto the strap of his bag, "What are you doing out here?"
"Me?" I say adjusting to the sun's cruel framing of his perfect face, "Nothing, nothing at all. What are you," I stopped to collect my scattered thoughts but the rest of the statement was halfway out of my mouth already so I continued, "What are you doing here?"
"Fencing practice." He said easily as if he wasn't aware he had no real need to answer at all. "Are you waiting on somebody?" He asked looking out to the streets scattered with people walking in and out of groups.
"Waiting yes, but not necessarily on someone." I managed to utter the blatantly convoluted statement with an air of pride.
"Alright." He stretched out for some effect, "What are you waiting on?"
"I don't know, something cool or interesting." I said leaning forward against the tree, "Inspiring."
"I see." He nodded, "For your designs."
"Precisely." I smiled at the thought that he really did know me in some sense.
"Well, I won't disturb you anymore." He nodded as he went to step away but something within me jolted with his removal so without much thought, out of some secondary reaction I leaned forward with the word,
"Adrien." On the tip, of my tongue,
"Yeah?" He responded as he turned back around,
"Maybe you could help me." I blurted out before realizing what I was really saying. He hesitated for a moment visibly, but it seemed more out of surprise than a sudden dread.
"I'm not sure how much help I'll be." He said,
"Well," I sighed, "You never know right?" I said offering some form of an understanding between the two of us which he seemed to have a little faith in.
"I guess not." He said sporting the same sly grin as he walked back towards the tree, "So what do you have so far?"
"Not much," I said flipping to a page sloppily filled with a few sketches none very meaningful. It didn't take long for his eyes to stick to a crossed-out dress donned with polka dots,
"That one's nice." He said,
"You think so?" I asked as I touched my cheek to hide the rosiness.
"Definitely." He said looking up slowly without realizing the power he had over her with one look of those bright green eyes. "See, you don't need my help Marinette." He smiled as she looked down at the pavement below them. "I look forward to seeing it when it's done." He said as he stood up,
"Alright." I nodded quickly, "Thanks."
"No problem." He said as he tightened his hold of the strap on his bag, "I'll see you tomorrow Marinette." He waved lightly before walking down the street and disappearing into his parked car.
"See you," I muttered mostly to myself when he was much too far to hear.
"Ready to go Marinette?" Said a small perky voice beside me and I nodded absentmindedly watching his car drive down the street haunted by his silhouette from the back windshield, and for a split second, I swore I saw him turn around.
"Let's go Tikki." I breathed outwards as I pulled my body off of the pavement and walked down the other direction. "Can you believe it?" I spoke to the flying creature beside me as I clutched my notebook against my chest, "Adrien liked my design."
"Your designs are good, Marinette, he'd be crazy not to think so." She responded in the same shiny squeakiness I knew all too well by then.
"Yeah but, he's a model and his dad is a famous designer, he sees all sorts of this stuff." I nodded, "And he liked one." I said as I pulled the sketchbook before my eyes, "He has a little more credit than you here Tikki." I laughed.
"Then I guess you should be getting to work." She said playfully,
"I will," I say as I pass a pillar with a poster of a familiar face, one I had just seen funny enough. I stopped as I was dazzled once again by that shade of sparkling green and the golden waves across his head. I leaned forward with a kiss promptly stolen from my shiny pink lips to the tips of my three fingers. I leaned forward and placed it on his lips which seemed roughly proportional to my hand at this printing. I held it there for a moment hoping no eyes were on me, "I have to." I smile as I pull my hand back with a step forward, my fingers still reach for the photo of his face until it's out of sight, but by then I've thrust myself through my front and up the stairs into my room left to tear needles and thread up from out of the woodwork with a certain drive and passion I hadn't had, not for a while.
