Falling Slowly

Not For Me

"Marinette?" She heard a knock at the door. The bluenette was sitting on the bathroom floor, head against the sink counters. Her legs were curled up against her chest.

"I'm fine Alya!" The door opened to reveal none other than Adrien, who ran towards her and wrapped her into a hug.

"I'm so sorry!" He squeezed her tighter, then pulled away to examine her face. The blood had stopped running by now, but some remained under her nose. Her eyes were wet and red. Luckily, the makeup she used was waterproof, so nothing smudged.

"I'm ok, Adrien, really. Don't worry about me." His eyes softened, and the boy locked their fingers together. 

"Impossible." Marinette blushed. She had a damp washcloth in her lap, as well as a few dirty tissues that worked to stop the rushing blood. Adrien gently took the rag and pressed it to her upper lip, wiping away the stain. They were both red from the close contact, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that Marinette was safe and well cared for. 

After it all had transferred to the cloth, he brought it to the sink. The blonde ran hot water on top before throwing out the tissues and holding out his hand. She took it without the slightest hesitation, standing to meet his height.

Marinette faced the mirror. A big red stain was placed perfectly in the middle of her sweater, showing off for the world to see. Her eyes stung, and a tear broke through.

"M-Marinette?" She hid her blushing face in her hands, not wanting him to see her cry.

"I'm sorry, I-I just..." She paused, before looking back up at the mirror, "This is cashmere. I often help my parents in the bakery, and they reward me with a 20-euro allowance." She chuckled sadly, then continued, "I saved my money for weeks. I love buying expensive materials. I love getting used to the fit of something before recreating it... but it looks like this will be the last time I ever wear it!"

Adrien nodded slowly. Cashmere was not forgiving when it came to stains, he knew that much. And, in a way, this whole ordeal was all his fault. He invited Chloe to the party. He didn't protect her. He just made a waste of Marinette's hard work and money. That sweater probably cost between 300 and 600 euros. However, maybe there was something he could do about it. 

"I have an idea." He pulled a confused Marinette out of the bathroom. 

"Where are we going?" she asked, still holding his hand. 

"Somewhere special..." Adrien dragged her out of his bedroom, up a staircase, and through a long narrow hall. A tall white door stood at the end.

He stopped in front of the small keypad attached to the handle and punched in a six-digit code. A small click was heard, and the door opened.

The room was gorgeous. Rows and rows of gowns hung up against the walls, starting small and gaining height. The dresses were made of a multitude of fabrics and organized by color and size. In the center was a white couch, big enough for two people to sit on. In front was a giant standing mirror, as well as a circular platform for the dressed to stand on. In the back, a small fitting room with a curtesy curtain.
Marinette looked around in awe, sitting down on the couch. Adrian followed suit, standing right in front of the girl.

"When my mom was 13," he started, "Well, that's when she met my father. He fell in love with her instantly but didn't know how to tell her." She looked at the blonde with big bluebell eyes, encouraging him to continue, he did, "So instead of saying it, he sew it." 

Seeing a confused expression as a response, Adrien walked over to the first rack on the left. Picking up a white balloon hem dress with small purple flowers, he turned back to Marinette.

"This was the first dress he ever made my mother. He always had a knack for design, but with everyone he made, his skills improved." He put the dress back and walked further down the left aisle, grabbing another. This one was royal blue, the front cut shorter than the back, which was intended to reach past the knees.

"This closet holds every dress my father ever made my mother." Marinette came to meet him.

"Wow..." she breathed.

"Yeah, he loved her a lot." He smiled sadly, putting the dress back and pointing towards another rack, "Each section is organized by year. These ones will probably fit you." 

"W-what!?" Marinette practically chocked, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"This one seems casual enough for tonight!" He picked up a sundress. It was a cream color, the skirt puffed out just enough to look simple yet elegant at the same time. The sleeves were off the shoulder, and the front was a halter strap neckline. A small semi-circle was cut out just over the waistband to show some skin, and the entire dress was covered by baby blue swirls. It was stunning, "Try it on!"

"Adrien, I can't just wear that dress! Your father made it for your mother, it's not for me."

"Please? I feel terrible about what Chloe did to you! By the way, she's getting kicked out the minute we go outside." His face tensed for just a bit but crept away when he locked eyes with Marinette.

"A-are you sure he won't mind?" He took a step towards her.

"Like I said, fathers not here until next Monday. Plus, these dresses will belong to me soon. My mother wanted me to give them to my future wife and daughter. I absolutely intend to do that." He scratched the back of his neck, "Its actually written legally that I receive them on my 16th birthday, which is Friday, anyway."

"Yeah..." She blushed, "I know." His smile grew at that. Marinette remembered his birthday, "But why me?"

"Huh?"

"Why me?" She repeated, "If these dresses are intended for your future w-wife... then why are you letting me wear one?" Because I love you.

"Because we can't have you dancing in that sweater now, can we?" She eyed him through dark eyelashes.

"I can't just take your mothers dress." 

"Can you at least try it on? Or maybe I will!" He raised his eyebrows and she giggled in response.

"Don't you dare! It'll rip at the seams." 

"I don't know, I think I'd look sexy in a dress" She slapped his arm playfully.

"Adrien Agreste, you did not just say that!" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"C'mon, you don't think I'd look hot?" She stared at him with a smug expression.

"I think you've already accomplished that." His face burnt bright red, same as hers. Nevertheless, he continued their banter. 

"Marinette, do you think I'm the hottest person at this party?" Her eyes grew wide as she tried to hide her smile. That gave him his answer, "I'll take that as a yes."

"W-what!? No! I don't, actually." She crossed her arms and pretended to pout, but Adrien could see the amusement on her face.

"Well, I certainly think so," He dangled the dress from the hanger, grin on his lips, "Wanna prove me wrong?"