Assassin (Marichat fanfic)

Chapter Twenty-Two: A Cold Autumn Morning

Muscles clenching in lieu of her waking up, Marinette yawned and rubbed her eyes, blinking away the hazy fog that shrouded her mind. She had gotten a wonderful sleep, despite the painful awkwardness that had followed her to slumber last night. Fingers twitching as they felt the soft fabric of the comforter, which was settled across her body, Marinette slowly arched her back and stretched her limbs, feeling the familiar tight strain of aching muscles relax slowly.

As she let a tired groan pass through her lips, she swung her legs over the bed and placed them on the cold wood, sending a jolting chill up her skin. She breathed in softly, relishing the cool air that filtered in. She smelled an old, comforting, musty smell, the smell of books on a spring day.

Which was odd. It was a cold, autumn morning, bridging on winter, and there were no books present in her room, sadly. She still was able to pick up on the familiar scent, however, and rising from her seat on the bed, tiptoed to her door and peered around her hallway.

It was empty, as she had suspected. But even so, she could see that, further down the hall, to the right, a chestnut-colored door was left ajar. She felt her fingers slide over the white door frame as her body inched closer to snag a better look when all of the sudden a mop of golden, glossy hair poked out from the open doorway. It was Adrien.

"A-Ah, Marinette," he greeted, a small, bashful smile on his face. "Good morning. Would you like to join m-me for some late morning reading?" She easily caught the waver in his voice and the blush on her cheeks, so she immediately grew warm with a teasing thought.

"Judging by the blush on your face, Adrien," the girl started, using her left hand to smooth down her morning bedhead, "The only books you're reading this late in the morning are the inappropriate ones, hmm~?" She held a cheeky smile on her face, all traces of exhaustion fading as she poked fun at the assassin. Immediately the blonde perked up in defiance, uncharacteristically puffing up his cheeks and turning up his nose to show his distaste.

"Of course not," he replied snottily, the blush growing darker. "So I guess you wouldn't like to join me for reading, then." He then ducked back inside the room, or what Marinette assumed to be a library of some sorts, and didn't say another word, leaving the bluenette to gape in short-lived terror. Of course she wanted to read, what else is there to do in this mansion?

So she tugged down her shirt, which had hiked up above her waistline, showing some skin, and shuffled her way over to the door, which was left open, a small creak sounding out from it when a draft pushed against it. Placing her small hand on the chestnut grain, Marinette pushed the door open, the hinges groaning slightly in defiance.

Immediately the delightful smell of books hit her nose again, the smell being the nostalgic, musty book smell, along with the scent of new, clean pages and inky scent combined made a sweet aroma that was undoubtedly pleasing to Marinette's senses.

"Ah, so I guess you decided to join me after all?" Looking to the left corner of the room, peering past shelves and shelves of books, the bluenette could see Adrien sitting in a lush green chair, a blue hardcover book resting in his hands, the spine settled between his fingers.

She nodded slightly, a lump forming in her throat as the cold sunlight filtering in from a window nearby hitting Adrien's face, illuminating his perfect jawline. Her mind stalled for a moment, and all she could think about was running her delicate fingers over his tan skin, feeling the texture beneath her careful fingertips.

"Marinette?" Adrien asked, snapping his fingers loudly. "Marinette, are you okay?" Startled out of her... daydreaming, the bluenette nodded and made her way over to the blonde, albeit hesitantly.

She ran her fingers over the spines of the various books that lay upon sturdy mahogany shelves, polished with a thin film of dust, as she walked calmly towards Adrien, whose gaze was thoughtfully pressed against her figure. With a stream of cold afternoon light illuminating the specks of dust wandering aimlessly through the air, and with the hard cream-colored walls giving off a comforting vibe, the fragrance of inked pages feeling nostalgic, Marinette could almost imagine this was where she belonged. With a draft brushing against her skin, she could almost imagine she could almost imagine she owned these walls, this carpet, these shelves of books. She could imagine herself living here peacefully with her husband, her children, some pets....

She was startled to find herself imaging Adrien in the place of her husband figure. She was certainly aware of her attraction towards him, but she didn't expect him to just suddenly entwine her in a fantasy so wild as to imagine them... together. Of course, she should have known better, ever since she found herself pining for his smiles, longing for his lingering emerald gaze, waiting for the slightest touch that brushes against her skin.

She grabbed a book with a maroon cover and an interesting title, and took a seat on the ground, next to Adrien's chair. Her back was pressed up firmly to the wall, chills running through her spine.

She could feel Adrien's lingering gaze upon her, and it sent a tumult of blood spinning fast through her veins, a jittery feeling bouncing in her stomach.

Her heart pounded, fingers clutching the spine of her novel tightly.

No, it couldn't be.

She couldn't possibly be in love with a murderer.

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She sat down next to him, and his breath hitched. He could smell her, and she smelled like flowers. Was she wearing perfume?

Adrien rubbed the page of his book with the padding of his thumb, the papery feeling calming his nerves hummed with nervous electricity. This was a new feeling for him, and he wasn't enjoying it. Of course, he had been nervous before, but the overwhelming anxiety was absolutely crushing him. How was he going to maintain his job and good relations with his employing company and still keep Marinette alive and well?

Hint: he couldn't. He could only have one.

This revelation tugged at the usually dormant heartstrings that lay in Adrien's heart, and it scared him. It legitimately scared him. Feelings were not supposed to inflict him so heavily; feelings were a taboo, something he locked away for they only slowed him down.

Feelings were a prisoner of his mind, something that was so tightly secured in chains that it was damn possible for the hidden emotions to escape their confinement.

But, in the most cliche of ways, it just so happened the most impossible of the impossible had occurred.

Adrien had finally fallen victim to the kindness, genoristy, and beauty of his very target, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But he didn't want to believe it. 

No, it couldn't be.

He couldn't possibly be in love with a target.

Okay so

The reason y'all didn't get an update last week was because

There's this thing

Called school

And it kind of exists