The bell above the bakery door rang just as Marinette was about to take a bite of her sandwich.

With a sigh, she set it down, brushing her hands on her apron as she walked out to the front of the bakery.

She was immediately swept into a tight, breath-stealing hug.

"Hey, girl!" Alya grinned, holding her like she hadn't seen her in months. "I've missed you!"

Marinette blinked in surprise, but the smile that followed was instant and genuine. "I've missed you too. I haven't seen you in, what, over a week?"

"Too long," Alya said dramatically, stepping back and pretending to wipe away a tear. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me in your life of sugar and solitude."

Marinette rolled her eyes affectionately. "Please. The pastries might be sweet, but they don't talk back or send me memes at 3AM."

Alya's eyes zeroed in on the counter. "Ooh, chouquettes!"

Before Marinette could protest, Alya snatched one from the tray and popped it into her mouth, her eyes fluttering closed with exaggerated bliss.

Marinette gave her a mock glare. "Those are for customers!"

"I am a customer. Technically. Spiritually," Alya said with a grin, reaching for another.

"No, no, no," Marinette laughed, swatting her hand. "Those are the display batch. Come on, I have a few extras in the back that aren't meant for public consumption."

"Oh. So you do have a secret sweets stash," Alya teased, following her into the back room. "I always knew you were living a double life. By day, baker's apprentice. By night, dessert hoarder."

Marinette rolled her eyes again, but she couldn't suppress her smile. Alya's energy filled the room like sunshine through a stained glass window—colorful, warm, and always slightly overwhelming.

They sat at the tiny table tucked behind the kitchen, where Marinette's sandwich still waited.

Alya reached across and grabbed a chouquette from a container marked 'Extras.' "So," she said, eyebrows raised in that way that always meant trouble, "any new developments in your hopeless crush on Adrien?"

Marinette nearly choked on her water. "Excuse me?!"

"Oh please. You think you can hide that from me?" Alya said between bites. "You still turn into a tomato every time someone says 'Adrien' and 'photo shoot' in the same sentence."

Marinette groaned. "You're unbelievable."

"And don't even get me started on the way you look at Chat Noir when he flirts with you," Alya went on, ignoring her. "It's like you're this close to fainting, every time."

"I do not faint."

"You stammer. You flail. One time, you literally ran into a lamppost."

"That was—there was context!" Marinette protested, cheeks pink. "I was... distracted."

"Yeah, by his biceps." Alya wagged her eyebrows. "Come on, you've got to admit it. The girl who fell for Adrien Agreste and also might have a thing for the mysterious superhero? That's peak Marinette."

Marinette buried her face in her hands, groaning. "This is what I get for letting you into the back room."

Alya leaned her chin into her palm, smirking. "I'm just saying. Maybe it's time you did something about it. Either of it."

"I can't just—Alya, things are complicated," Marinette muttered, picking at the crust of her sandwich. "After what happened with Felix..."

The teasing faded from Alya's expression, replaced by something softer. "You're still blaming yourself?"

"I gave him the Dog Miraculous. I mistook him for Adrien. I handed Monarch the key to everything."

"Girl, no," Alya said firmly. "That was not your fault. Felix tricked all of us. You were trying to save the city, same as always."

Marinette shook her head. "But if I hadn't—if I'd just been thinking with my head instead of—"

"Instead of having a heart?" Alya asked. "That's not a weakness, Mari."

Marinette was quiet for a moment, her fingers curling around her mug. "Sometimes I feel like it is."

Alya reached across the table, giving her hand a squeeze. "Listen. You're allowed to love people. That doesn't make you reckless or foolish. It makes you you. Kind. Brave. Hopeful."

Marinette smiled faintly. "I wish I believed that."

"Then borrow my belief for a while," Alya said with a wink. "You've earned it."

A comfortable silence settled between them for a few seconds, broken only by the clink of spoons and the distant bell as another customer came in.

Alya sat back. "On a much less sappy note... have you noticed how often Lila's been hanging around Adrien lately?"

Marinette tensed. "What has she done now?"

"She's practically glued to his side at school," Alya said, rolling her eyes. "Smiling too much, laughing too loud, volunteering for every event he's in. You know—classic fake charm Lila mode."

"I thought she was banned from half the extracurriculars for lying about being allergic to chalk dust."

"Girl, she's slippery. Like a lizard in lip gloss."

Marinette let out a small, nervous laugh. But beneath it, a cold knot began to form in her stomach.

"She's up to something," Alya added. "I can feel it."

Marinette bit her lip. "I'll keep an eye on her," she said softly. "I'll try."

Alya's face softened again. "That's all I'm asking."

"But I won't try to make any moves on Adrien," she blurted. "I just...I'm not ready. I'm still figuring out what to do with myself now that we lost the Miraculous. I don't need any more distractions."

Marinette looked out the window, the golden sunlight catching the edges of the glass like fractured hope. She would be strong. She had to be.

Even if Lila was watching Adrien.

Even if the world still felt like it was crumbling under the weight of her mistakes.

*********

The bakery door jingled behind Alya as she waved goodbye, a final "Text me later!" echoing up the stairs.

Marinette shut the door softly, then turned and headed to her room, her footsteps light on the wooden steps. The comfort of her space greeted her the moment she climbed inside—soft pinks and warm lights, her sewing table tucked neatly to the side, a half-finished design pinned to her mannequin. Sketches lined the walls like wallpaper: dresses, capes, coats, shoes, even a superhero suit or two she'd never let anyone see.

She collapsed onto her bed with a quiet sigh, arms flopping out to either side. Alya's visit had left her buzzing with warmth and worry in equal measure. Her best friend always knew how to cut straight through her walls—but now that she was alone, the noise in her head had nowhere to go but inward.

Love.

She stared at the ceiling, frowning slightly.

Why did love always feel like a battlefield?

Alya was right—she did have feelings for Adrien. And maybe... maybe Chat Noir, too. But love didn't come easy for girls who carried secrets like weapons.

She thought about Adrien's smile, the way it lit up the room without even trying. And then, moments later, she remembered Chat Noir—his playful banter, the gentle way he steadied her when she doubted herself. Two sides of a coin. 

The thought made her head spin.

She rolled onto her side, clutching a pillow close. Every time she let herself feel something—really feel it—something went wrong. Like with Felix. Like with Luka. Her heart seemed to carry a curse.

What if she gave in to love, and someone else got hurt because of it?

What if her feelings made her hesitate?

What if the price of caring was losing?

She hated how much sense that fear made.

As Ladybug, she was supposed to be calm. Smart. Strategic. But love... love was messy. It got under her skin and tangled with her judgment. It made her feel like she was back in middle school again, fumbling over her words and tripping over nothing.

She couldn't afford to be like that.

Not when Paris still needed her.

Not when Monarch could strike again at any time.

With a deep breath, she sat up, wiping her eyes before they could get teary. "No more distractions," she whispered to herself.

Love could wait.

Right now, the city needed her to be strong—and being strong meant being alone.

She crossed to her desk, pulled her sketchbook into her lap, and flipped to a blank page. Her pencil moved on instinct, curves and lines flowing as she lost herself in the design of a new dress—something sharp but soft, bold but still beautiful.

Something like her.

The ache in her chest didn't go away, not really. But for now, sketching let her breathe again.

And that was enough.

A/N: That's chapter two! What did y'all think? I know the start is a little slow, but things get wild soon. 

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