Prompt: True Love

Adrien moved into the bathroom of Granny's hotel room, another selection of clothing slung over his arm and ready to be tried on. He had no idea why she was making him check everything she had, he thought after the first shirt fit perfectly she'd be sending him on his merry way.

He was now on his seventh pair of trousers, twelfth top and fourteenth pair of boxers (boxers he refused — politely — to model for her). She was relentless and stubborn, and he couldn't help but find it intriguing. His thoughts wondered what she was like back in her youth. The playful smiles and gestures only added to the curiosity that was building up about this woman.

"How's the fit, my love?"

Her voice sounded through the door as he was half way to pulling his jeans up again. Every single piece of clothing wasn't only to his taste but it also fit like a glove. It was as if the clothing had been created especially for him, even down to the roll up sleeves he loved so much. He hadn't had much chance to wear such styles due to his fathers demanding ways, which was a shame really, he most certainly made it look good.

"It's another perfect fit," he announced, fastening the jeans around his waist. They hung exactly as he liked, clinging to certain *cough* assets in the most fashionable of ways. He turned in the mirror examining himself. With every item he couldn't help but think Marinette was going to be wowed by it, only for the next one to be even better. He couldn't wait to wear them, giving her a view she hopefully couldn't refuse.

"Fantastic. Come and show me young man."

Adrien looked to the doorway, wishing more than ever he had Plagg with him. It wasn't that the old woman was someone to worry about, but the whole situation just seemed strange. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on, she was old enough to be his grandparent, but some of the looks she gave him put him on edge a little.

Giving himself one last check over, he walked towards the door and out into the main room. Granny sat at the small dining table, one leg crossed over the other and a cup of tea in her hands. She was an elegant lady, and he guessed her and her husband had made some rather attractive children; he had to give the older guy his dues, he was sure Granny was a fireball back in the day.

"Oh, that's my favourite outfit." She stood up and made her way over to him, brushing her hands over the back of his shoulders and down his sides.

She'd done this with every outfit and he couldn't help but wonder if she was just feeling his muscles, not that he was big headed enough to say he had muscles worth touching. It was just strange that's where her hands constantly aimed for.

"I like it," Adrien said, turning his head to the full length mirror on the side of the room. He was currently in dark blue jeans with a black shirt rolled to just under his elbows, along with a white tee sitting underneath.

"You remind me of my husband," she laughed, moving to the bed and grabbing a pair of socks and some snow boots. "When we were younger, he'd always wear his shirts rolled up at the sleeves. He used to wear them high up on his arms, but as he got older they seemed to work their way down." Laughing, she handed the socks and boots to Adrien, moving him to the bed and pushing him down.

"Your husband seems to have good taste," Adrien said, lifting one foot up and onto the bed, threading his sock on his foot. They were knitted to perfection in the same blue as his favourite scarf... his scarf he was almost positive Nino would be snuggling up in right now.

"Well, he married me didn't he." She dropped him a wink, Adrien chuckling as he changed his feet over and threaded on the other sock.

Wiggling his toes, he was thrilled by the soft, cushiony feeling of the wool. Oh, yes! These were special.

"If you dress him as well as you've dressed me, he's one lucky guy."

Granny chuckled, moving over to a second suitcase and throwing it onto the bed as though it weighed nothing. Who was this woman?

Adrien sprung off the mattress and turned to face her, watching as she began to rummage into the second suitcase removing what looked like women's clothing; clothing he guessed was for him to take back for Marinette.

"I've got these for Marinda, I hope she's okay with so much pink."

"Oh, it's Marinette," he corrected, one hand reaching for the back of his neck, feeling awful for correcting her.

Granny scrunched her eyebrows together. "What did I say?"

"Marinda."

"Oh." She looked at Adrien and smiled. She shrugged her shoulders and continued rummaging through the suitcase.

He noticed how pretty much everything coming out of the suitcase was a shade of Marinette. Pink, white, red and black. All of a sudden, Granny's head disappeared and Adrien was slightly worried she'd fell through the suitcase and ended up in Narnia.

"It's — um — Granny?" Adrien moved around to the side, spying around the lid of the open suitcase and in search of the helpful lady.

A mountain of clothing was suddenly being dispelled from the suitcase; panties and bras included. He averted his eyes from the hurricane of lingerie and instantly landed on a pair of pink snow boots. He laughed. A full on insane laugh as he grabbed them and brought them closer.

"Can I take these boots for Marinette?" He looked back at Granny — hanging in the case, still rummaging away — holding the boots in front of him, his eyes questioning the little old lady's actions. He was really thinking he'd need to dive in and save her.

"The pink boots?" she asked, her head still buried in the depths of Mary Poppins bag.

"Yeah. Would that be okay?"

"Of course, of course!" Her voice came out strained, Adrien considering the pros and cons of taking action and pulling her back onto her feet.

"A-ha!" His conundrum ended when she reappeared with a box in her hands. "Come here."

She led Adrien over to the table where she'd been sitting, seating herself back into her chair and having another drink from her mug. Adrien followed, sitting down opposite Granny and growing curious about what was inside of the box.

"I was wondering," she began, "what is the relationship between you and... Marinette, was it? Are you not together? I sensed a little unease when your relationship was mentioned." She settled her elbow on the table, using her hand to support under her chin and study Adrien's face. He felt like he was being interviewed, yet, the need to open up to this woman was overpowering.

Falling in love with Ladybug, and then Marinette had been a lot more complicated than he ever could have imagined. Adrien knew he was obvious when he was in love. He was always a believer of showing the people you care about how much you actually do. So he showed her; as Chat Noir and Adrien, yet nothing came from it. He swore he'd seen the back of her head as she ran away more times than she saw the back of his — which was quite the amount considering she sat behind him for over a year at collège.

Then, it all changed. He found out Marinette was Ladybug and his world was sent into a spiral. He knew he loved Ladybug, he knew he loved Marinette, but when Ladybug and Marinette became one he wasn't quite as sure anymore where he or his heart stood. The complexity of his new feelings had seemed to keep him awake at night and fantasising during the day. But he still couldn't pinpoint anything, and now here he was. Stuck in limbo with no girlfriend.

"She's just a very good friend," Adrien answered, attempting to place a smile on his lips. He knew it was as fake as Chloé's blonde hair.

"You don't look too happy about that?" Granny sat staring, her eyes questioning him greater than Columbo could.

Adrien found himself falling into her trap. The want and need to tell this woman about his non-relationship with the girl of his dreams, because that was what she was. The girl of his dreams.

The silence in the room had turned awkward, Adrien trying to look everywhere but at the person who was digging into his soul for his secrets. Secrets that for some reason he wanted to share with this lady.

And so he did.

"I'm not," he sighed as he thought about the girl he'd just left behind in the cabin, the girl he wanted to kiss so badly; he just wanted to grab her and hold her, and never let go. Muttering into her ear time and time again how much he adored every single fibre of her being.

"You know," Granny said, "my husband and I went round and round in circles before we eventually got it together. At one point he loved me, then I fell in love with him but he was in love with someone else. It was a complete mess, I think my best friend said we'd created a new shape with all the backwards and forwards we did — apparently something as mundane as a square just didn't cover it. But one thing was for certain, we were always going to end up together. It was written in the stars."

Adrien smiled, she looked so unbelievably in love with someone who'd been with her significant other for over half a decade, and he couldn't help but hope that at some point this would be how Marinette spoke about him — that they had a story worth sharing.

"So there's never been anyone else?" Adrien asked, his own arm coming to perch on the table.

"Oh, goodness no! There were a couple of boys which came and went, but nothing compared to my love for my husband. He has been my one and only true love since I was 13."

"You've been together that long?" he asked in awe and with a slight disbelief, that would be crazy.

"Oh goodness no, did you not listen to what I'd just said? We were both walking on a merry-go-round without the damn thing stopping. Seriously I didn't know you could fall in love with the same person in so many ways," she laughed.

Adrien nodded, considering his own romantic past.

"What about your lady?" she quizzed once more.

"My Lady?" Adrien asked, his eyes widening in shock. Did she know something?

"Yes," came the short reply. He looked over to her and noticed there was no expression on her face. She sat staring at him, the wait for his answer clearly evident on her face.

"Oh, okay – um – Marinette. She..." he coughed and wiggled around in his chair before straightening his back and started talking again. "She was in love with Luka, she had a nickname for him and actually practised her love declaration to him on... well... me."

Granny sat back in her chair, obviously taken by surprise by his declaration. "Luka?" She said his name with curiosity and confusion. "She loved Luka?"

"Well, yeah. The timing was just... off."

The old lady looked at him with sheer disbelief, her face altering to one of confusion. "You say she had a nickname for him. What was that?"

"Buttercup."

"Buttercup?" she repeated. "The flower of joy, new beginnings, and general happiness."

"Yeah, she must have really thought there was a possibility of something great between them. Though, I'm not completely sure why she's not with him now. He still has feelings for her, and it's not like she's seeing anyone at the moment." His gut twisted at the thought. Not so much of Luka being with Marinette, but anyone being with Marinette; the thought was the same as someone giving his heart a real good squeeze and taking him down to his knees.

"So this... Luka, fella? I'm guessing he's tall, blond and handsome."

"Tall — yes. Blond — no. Handsome — well I suppose he's okay if you like that type of thing. What made you think he was blond?"

Granny stood up and walked over the chest of drawers where her husband had placed his clothing for the duration of their stay. She began rummaging around again obviously after a specific item to bring back with her to the table.

"Well, his nickname was Buttercup. I thought it was quite self explanatory really. If I was calling someone Buttercup it would be because they have vibrant blond hair that glowed in the sun – kind of like you."

"Me, well, I suppose." He'd never considered himself to be Buttercup, but of course it had crossed his mind about Luka, and if he was being honest about Chat Noir too, after all, she'd made it clear a fair few times she would have been more than glad to develop the relationship with his alter ego. So, why couldn't she accept the love Adrien could give her?

"Here," she unfolded the cardigan in her hands and held it up to show him. The style of it was uncanny and Adrien couldn't help but gwap. "We don't want you catching a cold now, do we? Put it on over your shirt and be on your way."

Shrugging it over his shoulders, once again, the fit was impeccable. As he fastened the buttons and brushed down the shoulders, Granny moved towards him and pulled him down to her height, pinching his cheeks and smiling widely at him.

"You're so handsome." She gave his cheeks a little pat before stepping away, "you remind me so much of my husband at this age."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Adrien laughed. Granny turned him and sent him towards the door where the majority of the bags lay. Adrien collected what he could before turning back to Granny who thrust the pink boots into his hands.

"You should," she said, "he's a gorgeous man. He modelled in his teen years. He was radiant." The box which she'd placed on the table, was slammed into Adrien's arms as she opened the door and signalled for him to leave.

They said their goodbyes, Adrien thanking her for her hospitality and help. He'd been away almost two hours; he was surprised Marinette hadn't sent out a search party after him, or at least Plagg.

Heading down the staircases, bags in hands, he could hear laughing coming from the hallway. One laugh which he dreamed about at night, the other eerily familiar. Continuing down, he came to the bottom step and mere inches away from Marinette and Gramps.

Marinette slowly turned to him, her smile slowly dissolving as she eyed the cardigan, Adrien knowing full and well that when they returned to the cabin he had some explaining to do.