❛love letters ❜ (finished)

✰𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚑✰

'Dear Ladybug, I found out we're in the same year. That's pretty cool, huh Marinette? You looked adorable in that sweater, by the way. I kinda wanted to wrap you up in a blanket and hide you away from the world. You're too good to share, My Lady. From Cat Noir.'

Adrien wakes up Monday and buys some Starbucks just the way Marinette likes it. He carries it up to Marinette's dorm, letting himself in with the key she hid above the wide door frame.

Marinette is still sleeping, which gives Adrien a wry sense of satisfaction. He practically falls onto the bean bag in the corner of the room, watching her sleep for a minute before he realizes how weird he's being. Instead, he takes a sip of her coffee and closes his eyes. Marinette wakes up within ten minutes. "Stop drinking my coffee."

"I was hoping you'd wake up. Here's the letter by the way" He tosses the sealed envelope over to her. Marinette catches it with one hand and tears it open.

"I don't even want to read it," she whispers, dropping it on the floor and turning to face the wall. "I don't have the energy to not know who he is anymore."

"Oh" Adrien says, his heart sinking a little. She has to read his messages. It's the only way he can keep from blurting them out loud, and he even fails at that sometimes.

"Here, I'll read it to you." His heart starts pounding in his chest as he stares at the words, and he thinks this could possibly be an example of situational irony. Here he is, pretending not to be the anonymous guy that he really is, and above all, he's reading not-his words aloud. It's all very messed up.

Marinette shifts so that she's looking at Adrien, nodding for him to go on. "Right. So I'll just... Okay. 'Dear Ladybug,'" he starts, clearing his throat, "'I found out we're in the same year. That's pretty cool, huh, Marinette? You looked adorable in that sweater, by the way. I kinda wanted to wrap you up in a blanket and hide you away from the world. You're too good to share, My Lady.'" Adrien folds the paper up again, and he feels his ears turning red. He prays that his procrastination on getting a haircut is paying off, covering up his embarrassment. "'From Cat Noir', and all that," he finishes.

Marinette stays quiet, and Adrien pretends to be very interested in the photos on her wall.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" Adrien sputters, jumping out of his seat a bit. She glances at that pointedly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm always fine."

"You aren't fine," Marinette declares, sitting up in bed. Adrien has to set his jaw and hold her eyes to keep from staring. He—He knows Marinette sleeps in shorts, okay, but it's just. She has nice legs. Really nice legs. Really long, smooth legs. It's distracting... "You're fidgety. And you're rambling..." She reaches a hand forward, moving his hair away from his ears. He squirms away from her, pursing his lips. "And your ears are red. Are you alright?"

"Stop asking me that," Adrien grumbles. "I'm fine."

Marinette looks at him like he's transparent. He probably is. "And now you're blushing. Your ears only turn red for two reasons. Are you angry or embarrassed?"

"No, I'm not either, it's just hot in here—"

"Your ears never turn red when it's hot outside—"

"I didn't know my body had rules for its reactions—"

"Are you even hearing yourself? I've known you for four years, I think—"

"Can you just—?"

"What?"

Adrien squeezes his eyes shut and presses the heels of his hands against his eyelids, praying this is a dream. He considers all of his options; the truth, a lie, a really bad lie, or just leave. "Your legs," he ends up saying, which... Well, he can roll with that, he guesses.

Marinette's face goes blank. "My... legs?"

"I'm—" Adrien cuts himself off and continues to cover his face. "Please put on sweatpants. Or jeans. Or something that. You know. Covers. Your legs."

"What?"

"I need you to cover your legs please," he says, partway groaning. He hates himself. He hates Marinette and her stupid legs. He also hates his impulsive side. "With more clothes."

"So now I'm not allowed to wear shorts?" Marinette asks, but she sounds bemused. Adrien keeps his hands over his face as he hears the sheets shuffle and Marinette rifling through her drawers. It's only a few minutes before she says, "Okay, coast is clear."

He doesn't move his hands from his face. "Alright. Thanks."

"Are you going to look at me now?"

"I'd rather not," he answers drily, face planting her bed and tossing his arms over his head. Marinette laughs softly, and Adrien—he hates love. Love is dumb.

"Why not?"

"A little embarrassed that I can't handle myself around my best friend at the moment," he mutters, half-hoping that Marinette doesn't hear it. She does.

"'Handle yourself'? Dear God, Adrien, just go walk through the freshman corridor. You'll get laid. One cannot blame a friend for sexual frustration." She's laughing at him still. Adrien groans into her bedsheets and tugs at his hair.

"It's not sexual frustration," he tells her. "Just to clear that up. I've gone 19 years without it, I think I'm fine." The proper term is probably romantic frustration, Adrien thinks.

"Really?" The inflection in her voice shows surprise. "You haven't?"

"Don't you think I would have told you?"

"I mean, I guess so. But I just assumed. Not many hot guys remain virgins in college, it seems."

"Yeah, well. I'm one of the few, I suppose." He sighs, begging his face to stop blushing. "Sorry about that."

"I still don't really know what happened, but yeah. You're forgiven," Marinette tells him easily like her best friend wasn't just asking her to put on pants because her legs were too much to handle. "You're weird."

Adrien takes this as his cue to sit up straight. Marinette settles down on the bed again, this time in grey sweatpants he's almost positive are his. He nearly drops his head again; Marinette in his clothes is almost worse than Marinette in shorts. "Sorry."

"You said that," she reminds him, watching his face carefully. His cheeks are still red, he's sure of it, and he knows his hair is in disarray. Marinette smiles. "We're all good now? Think you can go the rest of the morning without getting a—?"

"Please don't say that," Adrien interrupts quickly. "That was so not going to happen. I'm—please no. You're my innocent Marinette, no dirty words leave your mouth ever."

"I'm your innocent Marinette?"

Adrien inwardly curses himself. "That's not what I meant." It is completely what he meant. Adrien likes to think he has dibs, by this point.

"Yeah, I know," she says with an eye roll, but her smile is somewhat fond. Hopefully fond. "I just like seeing you blush. Reminds me that you're human and not some angelic being or something."

When Adrien gets home to his dorm that night, he stares silently at the wall for twenty minutes and contemplates what his life has become.

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎&𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚕!

- 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝?

- 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍?

- 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎?

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1244

𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛!