The Miraculous Masquerade

𝖔𝖓𝖊: 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤

The wind howled on the cold Paris night, snow fluttering down without harmony. Thick layers of white covered every building and every path. Few lights were visible on this Christmas evening. The only thing that was shown was the dim light of the Eiffel Tower.

Seventeen-year-old Marinette Dupain-Cheng huddled within her brown coat in the middle of the dark streets. A blazing red scarf hung around her neck. Her aura portrayed as the beautiful Snow White with skin as white as snow, hair as black as night, and lips as red as blood.

But, despite the completeness of the scenery, Marinette was cold. No, that was an understatement.

She was freezing to the point of frostbite.

She was not rich, despite her families considerably successful bakery, they were not like what people considered the "Paris Monarchs". Marinette couldn't get those luxury brands that the rich folk could have with a snap of their fingers. Her thin coat did not provide the warmth she craved so badly.

A small dot of snow landed on her pink button nose, causing her to shiver. She blinked her ice laced eyelashes twice.

Marinette wished she had a better life, up there in those pleasant buildings, celebrating Christmas with all of the people who were fortunate enough for a grand meal.

She felt like she was the girl who sold matches, carrying a medium sized box of pastries to a destination, just to get some extra money for a larger Christmas feast. Marinette tiredly lifted a frozen foot, continuing to leave a trail of footsteps behind her.

Then she halted in an instant. A bright and blinding poster hung on a pillar just a few feet away from her.

On it showcased a man and a woman, swirling in gorgeous attire. A spotlight highlighted the two, as they gazed into each other's eyes lovingly.
And they both had a mask. Hidden identities, where one did not know about the other.
It was the Masquerade Ball.

Of course, this was a common event for the rich, always holding dances and balls. It was a Paris tradition.

Legends say that once under the burning moonlight of the New Years moon, you will find your one true love.

Marinette scoffed, rolling her eyes back. Although she did wish she could be somewhere in that world, where nobody would to see her as the boring bakers' girl.

She wanted to be more than just Marinette. To be loved by someone.

However, her conscience reminded her that love was fake, a fairytale. It was almost never sincere and wouldn't last.

Spotting a small flier for this occasion on the floor, Marinette glanced around nervously before picking it up. She eyed the requirements and noted that this was a public event, meaning even she could attend.

She folded it and slid the paper neatly in her pocket, then dashing down the road, now filled with an unidentifiable determination. Marinette pulled out a sheet from the opposite pocket for the final location of the pastries she was meant to deliver.

'Agreste Mansion'

She read, her bluebell eyes squinting under the darkness. 

While she was too busy reading and sprinting at the same time, Marinette momentarily forgot how incredibly clumsy she was.

Her feet tangled with each other.  She embraced the fact that she would crash to the floor. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prepared for impact.

She expected pain.

She received warmth.

Marinette slowly opened her eyes to see the most attractive human being she'd come across in her life. His strong arms supported her weight and her chin was planted in his chest. He had golden locks that were neatly combed, tan skin, a strong but thin build. To top all of that off, he had glowing green eyes that were brighter than the forest. She eyed his clothes, noticing the expensive branding.

They stared at each other in silence for who knows how long. She was honestly surprised by how comfortable this perfect stranger was.

Marinette was awed alright. So awed that she hadn't noticed that the pastries had smeared against the ground.

When she finally snapped out of it, she slumped to the ground. Her hands cupped the cinnamon vanilla buns and macaroons that she spent the past hour preparing. Brushing a hand through her bangs in frustration, a chain of apologies flowed out of her mouth. Bullets of sweat started to form. Marinette felt her eyes tear up, gulping nervously.

She really messed up this time.

-

The boy didn't hear a single thing the girl rambled about as she frantically reached around for the buns.

He was amazed. It was like the entire world had blurred around them as he gazed into the eyes of the sky, the ocean, and the galaxy mixed into one. Her face was so pale he could've mistaken it for the snow. The boy observed that tears had begun to fall and he shook his head to focus.

"Are you okay?" He spoke gently, reaching a gloved hand out to help her up. He felt bad since it was obvious she cherished those pastries, as well as the fact that it took him this long to support her.

She hesitated but put her frozen porcelain hand into his. She slowly stumbled up.

"I'm so so sorry for running into you, I was in a hurry to deliver these, though that wouldn't matter anymore since I destroyed them-" Her melodious voice came out perfectly, even when she stuttered.

A corner from a card poked out of the snow. He bent down to retrieve it, and on it was scribbled his home address.

"You're headed toward the Agreste Mansion?" He asked, genuinely surprised. Why would a beautiful girl like her be headed towards his house on Christmas Eve? Her red coat surely didn't guard her against the snowy night.

"I was." She corrected. "Not anymore, I guess these are a waste now." The mystery girl glanced at the smudged baked goods on the floor. Her dejected facial expression made him want to assist her.

He suddenly had an idea. He changed his stance to appear flirty "Well since you've already tried so hard to get this sent on Christmas Eve, how about I pay you full cost." He beamed at her. "-And invite you to him home to help you freshen up a bit?".

She looked confused with her eyebrow arched up. "Wait, why would you pay-."

He cut her off with a grin. He was going to help her whether she liked it or not. After all, she wasn't the only one lonely this winter. He would bring her to his home and get to know her better. Adrien would be lying if he said this girl didn't fascinate him. Like a breath of fresh air. Her entire presence felt warm and homey.

He stuck his gloved hand out for her once more. "My name is Adrien Agreste, it's a pleasure to be of your acquaintance."

Thanks for reading and vote if you liked it:) ( EDITED)