Miraculous Ladybug: One Shots

Torn Pages

SONG OF THE SHOT:
Lucky One - Taylor Swift

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Chat Noir was a lot of things; public figure, the genius behind many successful motion pictures and a romance author. He was also madly in love with Marinette. That last fact was slightly unobtainable, as she was a famous actress and nearly untouchable. Thus, she had no clue. She had yet to even meet the guy before. Everything he knew about her was from fan blogs and magazine interviews. She was perfect. So there he sat, at a small coffee shop in New York City, punching away at his keyboard, crafting his newest novel.

That was the thing about being underneath an assumed name, no one had any clue what the blonde actually looked like in day-to-day life. Anytime he had a public appearance to attend to, he always sported a black mask and wild, unruly hair that apparently captured the hearts of girls worldwide. Currently, he was Adrien, the brainiac behind the superstardom of Chat Noir. Glasses perched on his slender nose, dark blue beanie clutched to his head, mug of lukewarm mocha stationary on his table, Adrien's leg thumped the ground in excitement as he finally had sufficient inspiration.

It had recently been a bit of a dry spell on his newest work, nothing sounding just right enough. But there he was, amid the whistle of a crowded city, pouring out every syllable his head told him to. Once he had competed yet another chapter, he threw his arms up in the air, chanting with elation at how productive he was being. Happily, his long fingers curled around the coffee mug as he drained the tepid remnants of his drink in one, long swig.

"Pardon me, Sir, but is this seat taken?"

Lips still clenching the top of his cup, he glanced upward, seeing no one other than Marinette Dupain-Chang. He brought the mug down to rest on the table slowly, mistakenly setting it on his computer keys. A mustache of liquid remained on the upper portion of his mouth. "N-Not at all! Go ahead," he flustered, rearranging the table to suit her. In his nervousness, he had yet to realize he left the weight of his mug on the delete button, his work being slowly erased.

"What do you recommend to drink around here?" she asked. "W-Well, I'm not from here myself, but this mocha tasted pretty good!" Adrien said. "Is that so?"

Nodding, he noticed where his cup was, panicking as a quarter of his unsaved typing had vanished. He allowed a loud and long string of curses to emit from his lips, amusing the likes of his acquaintance. "What's wrong?"

"I stupidly left my mug to sit on the backspace key, deleting some of my newest chapter I was writing. Dang, I'm such a screwup," he scolded, removing his glasses to harshly rub the delicate skin of his eyes. "Hey, hey, don't be frustrated. Think of this to take that good chapter and make it even better," Marinette said, winking as she left her purse to make her way to the bar and order. Sighing at how she probably thought of him, he rested his head on the wall behind him, shuttering his eyes closed. Marinette was right after all.

"I went with the hot chocolate, instead."

"Oh right, I forgot that you're not big on coffee," he said without much thought or hesitation. "What?" she questioned, confused on how he already knew about her opinion on a beverage. He sat up, squeaking as his cheeks turned redder than a cherry. "I-I'm so sorry! I'm just a h-huge fan of you and I just let it slip that I-I'm a big creep and-"

She laughed. She laughed at him. She was laughing at him and his rambling. "Sorry, it's just that you seem to know everything about me and I'm sitting here being so selfish. I don't even think I asked for your name."

"O-Oh. I'm Adrien Agreste." She nodded, standing to pick up her order of hot chocolate and what looked to be a vanilla cupcake. Right, her sugary guilty pleasure. "What was the chapter for, are you a writer?" she asked before she licked at the light frosting piled on the miniature cake. "Something like that, I suppose."

"Are you published?"

"U-Uh, I uh, yes, I am."

"That's so cool! Anything I would know?"

"W-Well, um, possibly, but I don't-"

"What's the title of your published book?"

He inhaled at the crossroads she brought him to. On one hand, he could out himself and she would fall in love with him and have four kids and a garden of lettuce in their backyard. On the other, he could lie, she would resent him and he would die being the hermit who lives in the creepy mansion on the otherwise homely suburban block. His emeralds flicked to her bluebells.

"I'm conflicted as to what I should say."

"Why would that be?"

Shifting his eyes around the coffeehouse, he saw that it was relatively deserted. He relaxed, closing his laptop and pulling out his phone. As he searched, he held up one finger, telling her to be patient. Once he found an apt photograph of him suited up in the Chat Noir mask, Adrien glanced at her again. The blonde man could tell Marinette was getting restless, anxious and maybe interested. Relaxing his tense shoulders, he turned his screen around, pausing to let her connect the dots. Marinette compared the image on his phone to his glasses-less face, as he sat his concealing specks down.

Once she understood, she gasped, eyes growing wide. "You can't tell anyone!" he blurted, seeking to do some damage control. "B-B-But you're-"

"I know! And this needs to be our secret."

With resolve, she nodded. That day, she proceeded to ask many questions and he allowed her, wanting to finally unload all of his thoughts and feelings about such a double life onto another human. The two continued to see each other. He was addicted to her presence. She was glad someone else understood the crazy.

All until she couldn't comprehend why he wanted to stick around another year. Marinette slipped into a sudden depression, shutting out everyone she once held dear. No number of cupcake covered Adriens could soothe her soul. It broke his heart plum in half. The following summer, she disappeared without a trace.

The last novel in his four part series was published. Book tours were organized, television interviews scheduled and his fame was bolstered even more. Everyone wanted to know what he was going to write next. To that, he had no answer. His last book felt like a wash to him as his once steadfast inspiration had slipped through his fingers like sand. Chat Noir revealed his true self three months later, not being able to shelf the pain from having dual identities.

His normal life was tainted, forcing him to scale backward. A year and a half from the first day he had met Marinette later, he had grown a slight beard and worked in a used bookstore, feeling just as neglected as the books he was paid to watch over. There was no real reason for Adrien to have a job, he was already loaded. Maybe he needed something to get out of the house and not be holed up all day long.

Adrien was leafing through a trash bag full of recent donations, making sure none were too damaged. Once he came across the fifth book or so from the pile, his heart stopped. There, on the dedication page was a note created in purple pen.

To my dearest Adrien,

If fate has any chance of being real, this will make it's way back to you. If not, then it's okay, I guess. I'm sorry that I left so suddenly. It felt like the right move at the time. How was it that I was allowed to be so broken while you shined like the sun? I couldn't be the one selfish soul to pull you down with me, I simply couldn't allow it.

I guess I've been a selfish prick from the first time we met. Remember when it took so long for me to get your name? Anyway, if you get this and want to reach out, my current address is attached. Maybe it's foolish of me to say that I won't move for the hopes of you finding me. So here it is, my last desperate attempt. I will always love you.

-Mari

Typing the address into his GPS, Adrien drove like a mad man for twenty minutes. Once he arrived, he left the car running and door open, not caring as he clamored to the front door. Adrien knocked, pacing as he waited for his love to open it up. Her eyes were teary and hands frailer than normal, but she was just as beautiful.

"Pardon me, Miss, but is your heart taken?"

"Only by you."