Preparation

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Marinette


Once school was over, I let out all of my emotions into my pillow.

I screamed and screamed, but only soft and muffled sounds came out.

"Marinette?! Are you okay?" asked Tikki, floating out of my purse and over my head.

I lifted my head, a few strands if my hair stuck to my face.

"Of course I'm okay! Adrien asked me on a date! A date Tikki!" I said, practically screaming again.

I couldn't help it, that was everything I had ever wanted, and it happened!

"I heard! I'm so happy for you Marinette," Tikki exclaimed, smiling and sitting on my nightstand.

I jumped up from my bed and looked into my closet, searching for anything that wasn't casual, but not formal either.

"When is it?"

"2 hours, so I need to start getting ready quickly," I said, shuffling through piles of clothes and shoes.

I searched for a good ten minutes before I finally found something that I wanted to wear.

I smiled and changed quickly, but I still needed to do my hair and makeup.

I rushed over to my desk, pulling out some makeup I stole from my mom.

My mother never allowed me to wear much makeup, and I didn't really care to wear it.

But tonight, I had to look perfect.

I chuckled to myself.

If I told Chat Noir that, he would correct me by saying, "You already look purrfect  My Lady."

I know because he's said it before.

Then it hit me.

As I was midway through applying blush, I thought back to the night before.

In those hours he was with me, I had loved him.

I had wanted to kiss him, and fall deeper in love with him.

I had never felt something like that for Chat before...but then again last night was a night of weakness for me.

So I let it roll off my shoulders.

Just a night of weakness, I reminded myself.

I continued to apply the rest of my makeup, not knowing the difference of foundation and concealer; I also made the mistake of putting on mascara before  eyeliner and eyeshadow.

I realized then how nervous I was about this who "date" thing.

I tried to shake it off, and focused on trying not to mess up my hair.

Once an hour had gone by, I looked like this:

I looked at myself one last time in my mirror before turning to look at my clock

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I looked at myself one last time in my mirror before turning to look at my clock.

I had 40 minutes to eat and get there.

I hustled downstairs and picked out a sourdough sandwich my mom had made me earlier.

I ate quickly and ran upstairs once again to brush my teeth and put on a quick swipe of lip gloss.

Finally, I was ready to go.

I went down to where my mom was waiting for me in her car, and climbed inside.

"You look beautiful honey," my mom said to me, making me smile; I didn't respond afterwards.

We drove in silence, and I glanced at the digital clock in the car every two seconds.

As we reached closer and closer to the movie theater, I could feel my chest begin to cave in.

This was it.

The night I had been dreaming of since I met Adrien.

So why did it feel so wrong?

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