8. Chapter 8

Her first message came two days later.

It simply stated the word “Akuma”, followed by an address.

Adrien had to resist the urge to screenshot it.

Chat Noir reached the scene in record time, waving a cheery hello to his partner before jumping right into the fray. A brief skirmish, a little cataclysmic action and one lucky charm later, the incident was all wrapped up in a nice, white bow.

Or perhaps a white butterfly would be more accurate.

Of course there wasn’t much time sit around and gossip (a fact Chat noted with no small amount of disappointment), as the use of their unique powers had quickly depleted their miraculous. Both heroes vaulted their way up to the rooftops, her with an effortless flick of the wrist and him with a series of leaps.

After putting some distance between them and the scene of the akuma attack, Ladybug slid up next to Chat, looking him over appraisingly.

“You know, I’m just a bit proud of you kitty.”

‘Oh this he had to hear.’

“And why is that, exactly?” He replied, leaning a hip against the chimney to his left.

“You’ve had my number for nearly 2 days now and you’ve somehow managed to not make me regret my decision.”

“My Lady flatters me with her high praise.”

“No, I’m serious!” Ladybug gestured broadly, a genuine smile working its way onto her face. “I had expected to receive at least a dozen texts in the first night alone.”

“Well I can certainly remedy that,” Chat began with a grin, “I still have 14 more cat-themed emojis I have yet to send you.”

Their miraculous chimed in unison as Ladybug flashed him a withering look.

“And yet, here I am with just a single ladybug one.” She announced, walking backwards with a shake of her head before beelining across to the nearest rooftop.

“Call me sometime!” Chat yelled at her retreating form, cupping his hands around his mouth for emphasis before dropping them with a snort. He could spot her eye roll a mile away, watching as she threw him a non-committal gesture before disappearing over the skyline.

Boy, he sure could pick ‘em.

From then on, his phone was his greatest treasure. Adrien never let it leave his hand.

It was the first thing he grabbed when he woke up in the morning and the last thing he tentatively laid next to his pillow at night.

When he showered, it sat on the bathroom counter. When he ate, it took a place right next to his fork, like a millennial’s version of the finest cutlery setting. No matter what Adrien did, his phone always remained within reach.

There was something so exhilarating in the idea he could, at any given time, type out whatever message he wanted into the tiny box, and it would pop up in the hands of his Lady just seconds later.

Adrien imagined a dark-haired girl walking down the streets of Paris. Perhaps she was with friends.

Perhaps she was wearing red.

Perhaps she would stop at the sound of her phone alerting her to a new text, pausing to slide a gloveless hand into her purse to fish out the device. Adrien imaged the girl’s blue eyes, unhindered by a mask, scanning down the screen, her lips quirking up at its contents before she typed out a reply.

The mental image was enough to drive him insane.

Every time his phone chimed loudly (he kept the volume all the way up for posterity’s sake) Adrien unlocked it within seconds, desperately hoping to see a new message pop up next to her name.

There had been 2 more Akuma incidents since the first text, one each day.  But of course for every treasured (if brief) correspondence he had with his Lady, there were 20 more from other people.

More often than not it was Nino, sending Adrien some shitty screenshot of a Tumblr post or complaining about his job while on break. The two had kept a running dialogue over the summer, texting near constantly as a substitution for actual interaction.

‘Nino’s no Ladybug’ Adrien thought idly, reopening their message thread to check his newest received text ‘but he might just be the next best thing’.

[ I have feeling I know the answer, but im going to ask anyways ]

[ You free to chill today? ]

[ HA that’s a good one ]

[ sorry man, im booked solid for the next 36 hours :/ ]

Ever since his homecoming, Nino had kept trying to rope Adrien into an outing with a few friends from school. Of course, their previous attempt at hanging out had been thwarted by the akuma attack, making Nino all the more antsy to spend some much-needed time with his best bro.

That was a positive thing, Adrien supposed. Years ago he would have given an arm and a leg to have such dedicated friends. Now there were difficulties, however.

Although he was technically “home”, the company’s tour didn’t officially end for three more days, with a closing show in Paris’ fashion district to kick off the fall season. That meant Adrien was still a prisoner to his schedule, unable to sneak in more than an hour or two of free time between the endless fittings and show coordination meetings.

His dangerously overcrowded schedule was killing him, Adrien realized one night.

If the daily (yes, daily) akuma attacks didn’t put him in the ground, his modelling career definitely would. Adrien had yet to get a proper night’s rest since the beginning of the tour, and it was starting to show.

He ghosted through the next few days, walking when he was instructed to walk, fighting when he was instructed to fight, and smiling when he was instructed to smile. It was hell, but it was over.

Despite his exhaustion, he managed to give a spectacular performance at the finale, one that would undoubtedly be featured in numerous publications over the next month. He was too tired to celebrate.

Adrien returned home the night after the wrap-up drunk on the thought of not having to set his alarm. Nearly collapsing onto his King-sided bed, he barely had the forethought to remove his shoes before crashing, much less plug his phone in.

So he slept, much too deeply to hear a familiar ring floating its way across his darkened room.

Marinette hissed at the cold bite of the icepack, the sound slowly evolving into a relieved sigh as she leaned back farther into her office chair. Tikki buzzed around, mumbling in concern.

“Oh my, how are you going to explain this one away?” The kwami asked, carefully laying her tiny hands on the girls face.

“I’ve decided the old standby ‘accidentally punched myself while ripping seams’ excuse would do just fine.”

“You’ve only done that once though…”

“Well now I’ve done it twice, apparently!”

It had been a lucky hit. Or perhaps an unlucky one depending on who perspective’s you were viewing the situation from. The akuma had been furious when it realized Ladybug had managed to grab it’s cursed object, mad enough to lash out with a blind punch just moments before she had the chance to snap the artifact over her knee.

Ladybug took the hit directly in her left eye, spewing a curse she instantly regretted (there where little ears in the crowd!) before cleansing the dark butterfly flitting its way around her head. Man did that shit sting, though.

When the possessed citizen came to, she instantly put two and two together, eyes widening as she took in the bruised up hero before her.

“Oh my God… did I do that?” The woman cried out, leaping from the ground. “Oh goodness, Ladybug. I’m so sorry! I was just so upset and then…”

Marinette couldn’t find it in her heart to be mad at the innocent lady, instead assuring her she wasn’t to blame before making a speedy exit.

Swinging her way back towards the bakery, Marinette had ducked into a secluded spot a few blocks away in order to release her transformation. Without the power of her kwami enveloping her, she instantly felt more scrapes and bruises burning along her sides, the main source of her discomfort still radiating from below her left brow.

 It felt bad.

Marinette slid the cool compress from the side of her face, walking over to her vanity to assess the damage.

The light-strung mirror in the corner of her room only confirmed Marinette’s suspicions. ‘It certainly was a shiner alright’ she thought with a grimace, poking at the discolored skin with the tip of her rounded nail. Thankfully the swelling had gone down to a more manageable level, indicating the bruise would probably be quick to fade. ‘Lucky me’ Marinette waxed ironically.

So she was a bit banged up, it wasn’t big deal. Sure, she’d escaped fights in much better condition, but she’d certainly come out worse as well. In fact, it wasn’t her first time fighting an Akuma without Chat Noir.

While he was an invaluable asset in the fight against Hawkmoth, it was only Ladybug who was capable of cleansing a cursed akuma. So yes, there had been at least a few incidents before where she could remember wrapping things up alone.

Of course, she hadn’t texted him those times, she recalled with a flash of irritation.

Marinette furrowed her brow, turning to grab her phone and navigate her way back to their message thread. She tapped on the little icon labeled C.N.

[ Akuma at Versailles ]

He had yet to reply.

Actually, he had yet to even open the message, Marinette noted, regarding the tiny (sent 11:43 pm) underneath her text. ‘Well it had been late’ she thought, glancing over to see her clock now read 2:20, ‘it’s not unreasonable for him to have been already asleep at that time.’

Ladybug had noticed a lull in her partner’s energy level these past few day. When she questioned him about it, he had just waved her off, winking his tired-looking eye as he conjured up another cheesy line. Of course she didn’t buy it. She still saw the way his body seemed to drag itself along the sidewalk, still spotted the exhaustion spreading across his features when he thought she wasn’t looking. ‘It was probably a good thing that he got a full night’s rest.’

Then why was she still so ticked off?

Marinette pressed the home key with a sigh, closing out her apps before plugging the phone back into its charger. She stripped off her clothes, assessing the minor cuts along her thigh with disinterest. Pulling on a fresh pair of underwear and a long shirt (Marinette distrusted anyone who wore pants to bed) she climbed the ladder to her loft, flopping down into the familiar embrace of her comforter.

 Sleep didn’t come easy, despite her exhaustion. Marinette tossed for nearly an hour, still ridiculously put-off by the events of the day. She wasn’t mad exactly, but something still didn’t sit right in the pit of her stomach. A strange emotion she couldn’t quiet put her finger on plagued Marinette, chasing away all chances of drifting off peacefully. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning, she realized what it was. Her irritation instantly multiplied.

Marinette missed the damn alley cat.

Which was ridiculous of course, they had just seen each other the day before. Him all posturing and flirtatious, her light-heartedly dodging his advances as the pair worked in perfect synch. She had no reason to be so upset over one day without the company of her insufferable (if sometimes endearing) partner.

 Yet here she laid, chest heavy and unable to sleep because she missed Chat Noir. Of all people!

Marinette rolled over with a scoff, trying desperately to ignore the flutter of her stomach. ‘This is just my period making me emotional’ she reasoned. She hoped.

Shaking the burning memory of his green eyes from her thoughts, she fell into a feather-light slumber…