Thursday After School - Adrien's POV || 2 Days Until the Party

Adrien sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the sleek black suit hanging across the back of a nearby chair. The jacket alone probably cost more than most people's rent, but Adrien wasn't thinking about price tags or stitching. He was thinking about Marinette.

Well—trying not to think about her.

"Just wear the suit and don't faint when you ask her," Plagg yawned, floating belly-up above Adrien's desk, a wedge of camembert balanced precariously on his stomach. "You've fought akumas made out of heartbreak and haunted violins, and this is what takes you down?"

"I'm not freaking out," Adrien said quickly, even though his bouncing leg said otherwise. "I just... want to get it right."

Plagg's ears twitched. "You haven't even asked her yet."

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "I was going to ask her yesterday. But then Nino mentioned she might already have a date. And what if she says no? What if I ruin everything? What if she thinks I'm only asking her because Kagami's not going?"

Plagg floated lower until they were eye-to-eye. "What if you just stopped thinking and started doing?"

Adrien groaned and flopped back onto the bed, arms stretched wide. "I wish asking Marinette to a party didn't feel like jumping off a building without my suit."

"That's called having a crush, Romeo." Plagg smirked. "You're basically a Camembert wheel away from writing her a sonnet."

Adrien flushed. "I don't like her like that. I mean—not like that that."

Plagg grinned with all the smugness of a kwami who'd seen things. "Suuure. You're just losing sleep, getting tongue-tied, and mentally rehearsing your declaration of love for someone you 'don't like like that.' Got it."

Adrien grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. Plagg ducked effortlessly, cheese still in paw.

"Okay, fine," Adrien muttered. "Maybe I like her a little."

Plagg raised a brow.

"...A lot," Adrien admitted. "But it's confusing. I still have feelings for Ladybug."

Plagg snorted, finally taking a bite. "Buddy, just last night you left her alone on the rooftop because she wouldn't let you reveal your identity."

"Exactly! Ladybug doesn't trust me, but Marinette..." Adrien sat up. "Marinette's—Marinette. Sweet. Shy. She trips on air and panics when she sees me coming."

"Sounds like someone I know when he sees her," Plagg said with a wink.

Adrien buried his face in his hands.

This was impossible.

He stood and paced the room. "I can't mess this up. If I say the wrong thing, I could lose her. And my father's expecting me to bring Kagami. I haven't even told him we broke up."

"Oh right," Plagg drawled. "The Emperor of Emotional Suppression. That'll be a fun chat."

Adrien grimaced. "I'll deal with him later. I just need to focus on Marinette."

He grabbed his phone, then paused, frowning at it. "But how do I even ask her without making it weird?"

"Text her," Plagg offered, nibbling. "Send a meme. Girls love memes."

Adrien glared. "I'm not sending Marinette a meme."

"Fine, Mr. Romantic. Show up at her window with roses and a love ballad."

"I said I didn't want to make it weird!"

He flopped back onto his bed, phone still in hand. His thumb hovered over her name in his contacts.

A quiet beat passed. Then:

"...I should probably talk to Kagami first."

Plagg blinked. "You do realize you already broke up with her?"

"I know. But if she hears I'm asking Marinette and I didn't say anything, that's not fair. She deserves honesty."

Plagg rolled his eyes but offered a rare, quiet nod of approval. "Suit yourself."

Adrien stepped onto the balcony, taking a deep breath of Paris's fading daylight. The air was cooler now, softening the city's edges in blue and gold. With a shaky exhale, he dialed Kagami's number.

She picked up on the third ring. "Adrien?"

"Hey," he said gently. "Do you have a second?"

A pause. "Yes."

He shifted awkwardly, leaning on the railing. "I, uh... I just wanted to talk. About the party."

Another pause. "I assumed we weren't going together."

"Right. Yeah. I just—wanted to say that I'm thinking about asking someone else."

There was a long silence on the other end.

Then: "Marinette?"

Adrien froze. "How did you—?"

Kagami chuckled. "You talk about her all the time. And the way you look at her—it's obvious."

He blushed. "Was I that transparent?"

"To anyone with eyes. Except maybe Marinette."

A nervous laugh escaped him. "Yeah... she kind of thinks I'm still with you. I didn't correct her. I panicked."

Kagami hummed thoughtfully. "Then you should fix that. Be honest with her. Just ask. No pressure. No theatrics. Just be Adrien."

"Easy for you to say. You're never awkward."

She actually laughed. "I've fenced against knights in training. You think asking Marinette is scarier than that?"

"Absolutely."

"Well then," she said warmly, "you're a coward. But you're a kind coward. And that's why she likes you."

Adrien smiled. "Thanks, Kagami. Really."

"Good luck," she said. "And tell her I said hi."

They hung up.

Adrien stared at the phone for a moment longer before heading back inside. He was still nervous—but the fear had shifted. Less of a mountain now, more of a hurdle.

He could do this.

Maybe.

Plagg floated beside him. "Well? You gonna call her now?"

Adrien looked down at his phone again. Her name still sat there like a challenge.

"...No," he said. "Tomorrow. I'll ask her in person."

Plagg groaned. "Classic."

"I just want it to be right."

"You're overthinking this so hard I'm getting a headache—and I don't even have a brain."

Adrien smirked. "Then save your strength for tomorrow."

He hung the suit up neatly, heart pounding in his chest like it was prepping for a battle. Tomorrow, he would ask her. No more hesitating. No more hiding behind what-ifs and maybe-laters.

Tomorrow, he'd finally take the first step.

**************

Adrien descended the grand staircase quietly, the echo of his footsteps absorbed by the mansion's marble and silence. The lights in the house were dimmed, the air still and sterile. It always felt more like a museum than a home—every surface polished, every shadow perfectly placed, like emotions weren't allowed to exist here.

He found his father exactly where he expected: in his office, seated at the sleek black desk like a statue of precision. The only source of light came from the massive screen glowing softly behind him, full of design renderings for an upcoming winter line.

"Father?" Adrien said, gently tapping the doorframe.

Gabriel didn't look up. "What is it?"

Adrien stepped into the room, suddenly wishing he hadn't. "About Chloé's party... I wanted to let you know I'm not going with Kagami."

Gabriel's fingers paused over his keyboard. His eyes lifted, cool and unreadable. "I see."

Adrien hesitated. That was it? No surprise? No questions?

"I thought it would be dishonest to pretend we were still together. We broke up over a month ago."

Gabriel simply nodded. "And who will you be bringing instead?"

"I... haven't officially asked her yet."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed, just a hair. "But you intend to."

"Yes."

Another pause. Adrien waited—bracing for disappointment, anger, or at least a frown of disapproval.

"Is it the Dupain-Cheng girl?" Gabriel asked flatly.

Adrien blinked. "How did you—?"

"She's been around. And she's obviously infatuated with you."

The words stung more than they should have. "She's not just some girl who has a crush, Father. She's—she's funny. And kind. She makes me feel—"

"Feelings are irrelevant," Gabriel interrupted, voice sharp and clinical. "Particularly when they interfere with image and expectations."

Adrien stared at him. "She's not an interference. She's a friend."

Gabriel's gaze returned to his screen. "Friendship is fine. Public relationships are strategic. The press has already speculated about you and Kagami. That alignment benefited both families."

"I'm not an accessory," Adrien said quietly.

Gabriel didn't answer. The silence said enough.

Adrien turned to leave, pulse thudding in his ears. Just as he reached the door, his father spoke again—almost as an afterthought.

"Make sure your behavior at the party reflects the brand."

Adrien paused. "The brand."

Gabriel didn't clarify.

Adrien swallowed hard and walked out.

***

Back in his room, Adrien sank into his chair, pulling his knees up to his chest. Plagg didn't say anything—just drifted nearby, watching with unusually solemn eyes.

That conversation shouldn't have surprised him. But it still hurt.

He stared at the half-written text to Marinette glowing on his phone. His thumb hovered above the keyboard, unmoving.

She wouldn't have said that.

She wouldn't have called feelings irrelevant.

He thought about the way Marinette looked at him when he forgot to smile. The way she lit up when he shared his ideas, even the dumb ones. The way she noticed things—small things—that no one else did. That no one else cared to see.

She made him feel real.

Like he wasn't just Gabriel Agreste's son, or the face of a brand, or some trophy for business mergers. With her, he didn't have to perform. He didn't have to be perfect. He could stutter, ramble, laugh too hard, say weird things—and she would still see him.

And it was terrifying.

Because it meant if she didn't want him, it would actually matter.

He looked down at his phone again. Slowly, he deleted the text.

Tomorrow.

He would tell her face to face.

Because Marinette deserved the real him—not the one in a tuxedo, not the one acting for cameras, not the one pleasing his father.

Just Adrien.

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AHH! He's going to ask her!!!! Who else is excited?