❛love letters ❜ (finished)

꒰ ׂ ۪ eight ⪩⪨

Marinette clings to him for the next few days, not that he's complaining, but he knows what she's doing. It's a coping mechanism; when Marinette is stressed or anxious, she hates to be alone. She says that it gives her too much time to think.

So, she's Adrien's shadow in the days following, popping up every time he hangs out at the cafe for a few hours of studying or appearing at the library every time he goes in to borrow their printer. He's hardly accustomed to being the center of her world, so much that she texts to ask him what he's doing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; often meeting him for all three.

The following week, he writes two messages, unable to decide which one he finds more appropriate. He stares at them for ten minutes, and Marinette almost finds out when she barges in with Korean takeout.

"I hope you don't mind," she says, not looking the least bit sorry. Her eyes are shining happily, and Adrien thinks oh no because he knows that look. That's her 'I met someone' look.

"You have your 'I met someone' look on," Adrien greets, accepting the hug she offers him. He slips the letters into his copy of Sense and Sensibility while she's not looking.

"Because I did," she tells him, lifting her chin. "He talks like Cat Noir."

"Well, tell me then."

"His name is Nathaniel." Marinette sits down in front of Adrien's too small and too short coffee table. He joins her at the poor excuse for a dinner table. "Tell me about Nathaniel."

"Art student," Marinette says happily, and Adrien shoves food in his mouth to cover up his disdain. "Tall. Broad shoulders—" Adrien sighs dreamily for her because he knows Marinette has a thing for broad shoulders. She laughs and blushes slightly, and he wants to reach out and take her face in his hands. Instead, he eats more chow mein. "Red hair. Dark red. Blue eyes, really deep and pretty. Nice hands—" Adrien cheers at that, being the supportive best friend he always has been. Marinette grins. "Yeah, I know, hands can be a real deal-breaker sometimes." He nods seriously as if that's top-secret information, and her smile widens. "I mean, he ordered the exact same thing as me at the coffee shop. I couldn't talk to him."

"Ah, yes, soulmates defined by coffee orders," Adrien sighs lovingly once more. "I know, but..." She trails off, chewing thoughtfully on her noodles. "I mean, who else orders a tall iced coffee in a cup with extra two shots of espresso, three pumps of hazelnut, an inch and half of the non-fat milk with a dome lid and a venti straw? No one. That's who."

Adrien tries to wipe the fond smile off his face, but Marinette's complicated Starbucks order is probably one of his favorite things about her. He smiles dumbly at his takeout box. "Sounds like a keeper," he manages.

"And," she continues, holding up a hand for emphasis. "Listen to this: he said 'would it be too forward if I called you beautiful?' Then, later, he said that he almost didn't talk to me because I was so 'pretty' that I was 'unapproachable'. That's a synonym for intimidating, right?"

Adrien put his hands up in defeat, a little irritated that the guy was using his words, though indirectly. "I got a B in Freshman Comp, don't ask me."

"It is," Marinette answers herself, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork. "It can't be a coincidence, can it?"

Adrien pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and bites until he's surely about to draw blood. "Maybe," he says, a few seconds delayed.

"I think it's him." She sets her food on the too-low coffee table, stretching her legs out and nudging Adrien's knee with her foot. "At least he's cute."

Adrien bites his tongue by accident, but it doesn't stop him from blurting out, "Am I cute?"

Marinette raises an eyebrow. "Yes..." she says unsurely. "Why?"

"I mean... I just—like—I didn't mean to—"

"Spit it out," she half-laughs, smiling at him in a way that nearly sends him into a choking fit.

"I'm hot, right?" he decides, willing his tan cheeks to mask the red rising. "And not from a 'best friend' point of view. I just mean... In general. Because I'm not exactly getting offers left and right either, so—"

"Adrien," Marinette sighs, shaking her head. "Shut up." She squares her shoulders. "If anyone is intimidatingly attractive between us two, I'm sure it's you."

And—okay. Adrien really wants to have this conversation, if he can keep from choking on his own tongue. "Oh."

"I'm serious," Marinette says, laying her hand palm-up on the table. Adrien stares at it. "Honestly. You're a freaking model. Of course, you're good looking."

"Yeah?" he asks, probably two minutes later. "I just. I feel like no one looks at me, or anything."

"Then you're looking at the wrong people," Marinette tells him simply, picking up her food again, and Adrien just thinks you're wrong you're wrong, you're wrong

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