Harbored

Cushions

"We need a place to sleep," Adrien stated. After filling up on the strangest combination of food, exhaustion would inevitably set in soon after. The only question remaining was where.

"Ooh! I know a hidden guest room that rarely gets used!" Marinette exclaimed. Still in the kitchen, the two were cleaning up their mess, if hardly any, and thinking about their next move. 

"No way. Nuh uh. If I am to now be a wanted criminal, thank you very much, I am not going to stay in the very place that said crime was committed," he angrily retorted.

"Do we need three loaves of bread or four?" she asked, easily distracted. It was maddening really, the way she could drift from subject to subject with no rhyme or rhythm. But if they had to stick together, Adrien would have to suck up and deal. "Three should be fine but, where are we storing them?" he questioned. 

"My leg satchel. Duh," Marinette said.

"Are you not gonna need your wig again, just to be on the safe side?" he asked. "I think I can manage," she replied, tossing the long wig into the garbage before zipping the bag attached to her thigh. 

Seeing as how all of the chefs would eventually catch on to their faux trickery, they knew they needed to hide until they sorted out the whole sleeping issue. He lavished one last pull of his drink before being tugged into another hallway.

Somehow, someway, they ended up outside of the walloping castle, found in a drowsy, mangled heap upon the grass. 

They both stared up at the twinkling stars, too lazy to trek forward. "My best friend lives not too far from here and I doubt he would mind having us crash," Adrien spoke up after some time. "Does he have parents or roommates? The way I figure it, the less amount of people involved, the better off we are," Marinette said. "He lives alone and has a lifetime supply of pickles," Adrien smiled, sneakily teasing her once more.

"Will that never not be funny to you?"

"Never."

Rolls of subtle movements and sounds of animals in the nearby woods melodiously drifted between them, acting as a filler for any other conversation to commence.

"Better get going. When Nino gets woken up, he becomes this awful shell of a human being. That, and he loses his filter when talking," Adrien reported. "Show me the way, Honey Bun," she chortled, taking Adrien up on his outstretched hand, pulling them both up.

Adrien felt a surging swell of pride as he was the one to take the lead, Marinette not having any idea on how to navigate. She would have to rely solely on him. Not the other way around. He mentally gloated over this fact numerous times before calming down, realizing the damp, awkward silence looming over them.

"Something else about Nino, he is a very loyal person. We go way back to diaper days. It is funny, I am not even sure how we met, only that our parents kind of resent each other. But, we don't even mind," he said, anything to get a topic going. 

"So you two are just like Romeo and Juliet then?" Marinette innocently sneered, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

"Minus the whole 'being morbidly in love with each other' bit, sure. I would gladly take a sword to the neck for him," Adrien answered.

"Now that is dedication and being highly dramatic at the same time."

The two engaged in gentle snickers and snorts, filling the placid air with much needed, and hardly acquired, liveliness. Once fully calm, Adrien grabbed her still exposed shoulder, stopping all movements. He jabbed one finger towards the sky, pointing out a cooing owl. "Quick!" he whispered in her ear, breath lingering on her chilled skin, "Ask it how many licks to the center of a Tootsie Pop!"