The Situationship

Looking Back Over My Shoulder

There were times Marinette was sure she would look back and wonder what the hell was wrong with her.

The first regret would come in the form of why she didn't demand that she and Chat Noir reveal their identities before going to university.

The next would be not asking where he was attending university. Even if they hadn't revealed, she could have followed him. There were many amazing design schools in London, and, to be honest, it couldn't have gone any worse than her short stint in New York.

And finally, she would regret not telling Chat Noir and Adrien exactly what they meant to her. Yes, this was complicated and yes, she was struggling not to feel like she was cheating on one with the other. But they were the same, amazing person, and they deserved to be loved. They deserved her love... She just wasn't sure she deserved theirs.

If she was struggling with this, she should really think about how they were feeling at the moment.

Her mind had been spinning after catching their conversation, the reminiscing, the hurt... It was a lot, and like the bumpy patches in their pre-relationship partnership, she had caused this. She needed to correct it, to finally let them – him – know she loved him. Because she did. In flannel shirts or a leather super suit, it was the man who wore them who had her heart, and she wanted both of them—as one person, or two.

So, she'd crept into Adrien's room silently the previous night, climbing under his covers and cuddling up to his warm, hard body, placing her hand over his heart. He loved her and she loved him.

'Always and forever.'

Their connection ignited again with an intense fervour, and as her feather-light kisses on his shoulder transformed into a fiery dance of passion, leaving them both breathless and fulfilled once again, she knew this was where she belonged—who she belonged with.

When they made it back to her apartment in Paris, Adrien said a quick goodbye and left for his own place. She didn't know whether she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn't asked her back with him. But she knew he had a lot of work to do before the meeting with Mary and his father in the morning. The first step in their plan – hopefully to both freedom and restoration.

And now she was in her apartment, with him. How could she be yearning for the guy who's not there when he was right there. She wanted to go back to the night before. To be snuggled in Adrien's arms with the rest of the world shut out. Just them.

"Can we talk?" Chat Noir asked, sitting on the sofa and patting the space beside him.

"Of course." She nodded, walking her way over to the sofa and sitting down. "What's on your mind, Kitty?"

"I was just..." He trailed off, looking out of the window and puffing out his cheeks.

Reaching out, Marinette took his hand in hers, pulling it to her and stroking a thumb over his gloved hand. "It's okay. Take your time."

His other hand came to meet hers. His touch, once a source of solace, now carried the weight of unspoken pain. Fingers that once danced in harmony now brushed against hers like a fading melody. In the subtle tremors of their connection, echoes of a love slipping away whispered of heartache, leaving a bittersweet feeling in the spaces between their entwined hands.

She watched his fingers caress her own, before moving up to the vibrant green of his eyes. They felt like a familiar refuge, a sanctuary calling her to a place where words were unnecessary. She knew what he wanted to say. She could feel it in every rotation of his thumb. As she continued to look into his eyes, she found the unspoken language of connection, a home within the depths of his soul.