An avalanche of hailstones fell from the sky. Each one ricocheting against the window, pounding in rhythm to the beat of her heart. The night was dark, the storm pulling the clouds across the sky like curtains in a deserted venue, turning her bright room into one cursed by shadows of a past unknown.

The wind was picking up speed, howling and whining like a young child who'd lost their parents, like a girl who couldn't remember her past. The angry cascade of rain battered the window, a constant mockery to how people had responded.

Angry at her?

At life?

Or the situation they had all found themselves in?

She'd been quizzed, probed, prodded.

Did she know her name? Yes.

Did she know her age? Yes.

Did she know what she was doing before the amnesia set in? No.

The rain picked up, blurring the view of the outside world, the wind swooping and pulling the water harshly to the left.

There was only so long she could sit and watch the storm, knowing full well she had no umbrella to protect her if she wished to venture out into the rain. No canopy of shelter or protection from the brutality of Mother Nature.

But she knew she would have to go out sooner or later, she couldn't stay locked up in here forever as much as her heart yearned to. Yet, the thoughts of what would be waiting when she did were overbearing? Would the world be as she remembered? Would she even remember her friends? The corkboard next to her said no.

Wrapping the blanket around her, a metaphor for blocking out the cold of her life, she looked at the selection of photographs.

A girl she'd met once, yet seemed to be close with. Fiery orange hair and, from what she could tell, a fiery personality too. She'd been to visit twice, each time an awkward silence on her own part, and tears from the girl called Alya.

Then there were Nino, Kim, Myléne, Alix and the rest of the old class, coming to visit in twos or threes, the sympathy suffocating and the interactions forced and uncomfortable - for her anyway.

Then there were two boys.

One with blue tips who'd come with sweet songs of memories; memories she didn't know or understand. Their first meeting was a little awkward, an unsure feeling on both parts. Neither knowing what to say or do, Marinette left wondering how they'd become friends in the first place. She definitely hadn't met him before.

Then there was the blond.

She didn't know him, yet he was the one who intrigued her the most. He was beautiful; she could tell that by the modelling pictures she had pinned on her walls, but there was something more. Something in his eyes. Something that everytime she took a look at him, her heart bled, and unshed tears threatened to escape.

She had to take the pictures down.

All of his pictures. Every single one. The pain of looking at him hurt too much, and it's not like he'd been with the others to see her. She probably didn't even know him. Maybe it was just a celebrity crush? Maybe he was only a face in the crowd?

A whole year she couldn't remember. 365 days of nothingness. A blank slate with not even a faint mark of what had been erased.

It was gone.

Everything was gone.

It had been four days and still life was continuing around her, a life she didn't understand.

Superheroes.

Villians.

A butterfly.

A cat.

A ladybug that had disappeared.

A romance that never happened and a dull ache in her heart.

Her eyes screamed with held back tears, the pressure behind them begging for release linked to the emptiness of her heart begging for answers. She wasn't sure what she was crying over or crying for, but she knew something didn't feel right. She was missing something; or maybe even someone?

She looked out of the window once more, the rain easing off and giving her a clearer view of the rooftop opposite.

A dark, familiar shadow was watching over her once more. She'd felt his presence often over the past four days, her heart changing according to his proximity. Too far away she longed for him to come closer; too close and it scared her. His extraordinary green eyes were both unnerving and overwhelming; but oh so beautiful.

Thunder roared through the darkness, paired with his lightning bolt counterpart, a yin yang of unpredictable occurrences, causing Marinette to blink and recoil from the window. The dark shadow figure was no longer there when she looked back.

Was he a figure of her imagination? No, he seemed so real. Like he was watching over her, protecting her. Just another memory she didn't understand; but a memory - feeling - was one that calmed the tears, soothing her clenching heart and allowing her rest.

Settling on her bed, she closed her eyes. Tomorrow was another day she didn't know, but it comforted her to know he was there; always watching.

•••••

Her first day back at school was cruel. The sun beamed down battering against her body with the intensity to cause some damage to her well-being. She thought back to the following year. Had the sun been as harsh then? Had she had picnics in the park with her friends under the bright beams of the remaining summer sun?

She stepped out of the bakery, macarons in hand, similar to that first day back at school a year ago, the day she stopped the old man from being knocked down. The scene replayed in front of her. The ghost of an old man in a red Hawaiian shirt, and her clumsiness at dropping the macarons in a bid to save him.

"Marinette?"

The man had a walking stick, one she handed back to him in a bid to help his stability. She remembered it so clearly, like it was just yesterday, but it wasn't. It wasn't yesterday, that much she could remember. The event was a year ago. A year ago! How could so much just disappear? She went to step again, not noticing the signal still held up a warning hand begging her not to cross. The blast of a car horn woke her up, her feet finally moving her away from the danger of the edge.

Alya appeared at her side, looking at her like you would an injured puppy. She didn't know how long she could take this kind of sympathy. She wanted to be treated as her friends treated each other, not be made a spectacle out of. She didn't want to be the centre of attention. Not for anyone - except the shadow. She felt fine. She wasn't an invalid she could walk and talk, and most of all she could feel. She didn't need to be babied.

"Sorry, I was lost in thought." She attempted to smile at her 'friend', noticing the familiar smile of Nino by her side. A face she recognised, yet still didn't know. She'd know Nino for years, but she didn't really know him, he was just another face in a crowd.

"Come on, let's get to school." Alya offered her arm out for Marinette to take, the smaller girl tentatively holding on; she needed the support as her legs shook uncontrollably at the prospect of actually moving, of going into her new future with no regard for her past.

"Marinette, oh my god you're back."

People flocked towards her, faces familiar and those anew. It was too much, the gathering crowd causing her breath to come in shorter pants, the overwhelming feeling of water in her ears began to muffle the sound and her head began to swim.

Too much.

It was all too much.

"Alya," her voice was barely a whisper, a sound taken by the wind. "Alya," she tried again, slight hysteria in her voice. She needed help. Why was nobody seeing that she needed help? Covering her ears, she bent down to the floor, balancing on her heels and holding her head steady.

Breathe Marinette, just...breathe.

"Back off will you. It's her first day back." A voice, an oh so familiar voice, made her head spiral and stomach churn. The voice. It was the perfect combination of pitches, a voice which could lead her to the depths of the earth and keep her coming back for more. A voice which could save her from anyone - including herself.

She turned her head quickly to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of her sweet voiced saviour, only to be obstructed by Alya and some others helping her to stand back up; restraining her without realising, keeping her away from him. The boy with the shaggy blond hair, moving far and away from them, away from her.

Her heart was beating rapidly, her legs wanting nothing more than to chase after him, her voice wanting to scream for him, but scream what? She didn't know. She didn't even know his name. She couldn't move, she was frozen to the spot and, once again, frozen in time.

"W-w-who was that?" She managed to say, turning her attention to Alya.

"Oh, that's Adrien. The boy we told you about. The one from your pictures."

"Why has he gone?"

Nino came and stood beside them, "He's not very sociable these days, not that he was before." Nino laughed, placing a hand around his girlfriend's shoulders. "But something has affected him, just nobody knows what?"

Marinette let the words linger in her head, watching as the boy with the golden hair walked away, walking steadily without even a glimpse behind.

"Adrien," she whispered, the boy stopping without warning, his back remaining to them, before continuing to move on. His name felt so perfect to say. Natural.

She was curious about this boy. The boy who'd understood and saved her. The boy with the golden hair.

•••••

That night was the first time he came onto her balcony. The figure who'd been watching her, giving her wonderful feelings of safety and resolve. She was on her balcony, drawing...she liked to draw, and she was good at it. That hadn't changed.

He dropped down in front of her in a crouch before extending to his full erect height. He was tall and masculine, complete with a pair of eerie green eyes, eyes which allowed the constant worry in her mind to settle, to relax under the watchful stare of this cat themed hero.

She hadn't looked into much about the super team. She had zero interest in knowing about them, about the lies spread by the media. He, however, did interest her. He was mysterious, and beautiful. An Adonis if she'd ever seen one.

"Just stay right there," she demanded. Her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth as she sketched the forlorn expression of this beautiful creature in front of her. "I've almost got it. Just one more moment."

He remained silent. Not a single word passing his full peach lips as she sketched every tiny detail of Chat Noir, the famed and loved superhero. The superhero she heard had become a shell of himself since the loss of his partner.

Finishing the details on his army inspired boots, she moved the picture in front of her, her latest art becoming an input into the scenery around them. The night blending flawlessly into her page.

"It's perfect," she said, dropping the book down only to find the hero was gone.

Her thoughts began to run wild as she considered whether he had actually been there, or whether she had just imagined it? It wouldn't be the first time she imagined such an unusual want. He had become the object of her comfort, the vision in her dreams; dreams of running, jumping, flying.

Anytime she'd had a bad day he was close by, today the impact of returning to school had caused him to appear on her balcony; had he seen or even felt her unease?

Maybe he was a figment of her imagination? The sense of comfort and protection she received from him suddenly became a coping mechanism for when things got hard. It couldn't have been real, could it?

A fierce nighttime wind whistled through the canopy of her quiet lonely balcony and her skin cooled under its chilling effects, as the moon was suddenly blocked by a black shadow.

That night was the most realistic dream she'd had of Chat Noir; of deep conversations and unplanned yet perfect teamwork.

•••••

Marinette sat looking at the back of the boy's head in front of her. She'd been back at school three weeks and he still hadn't spoken a word to her, not since the day he saved her from the crowds. She found out he was one of her closest friends, yet her heart hurt to find that this close friend couldn't handle her situation, that he didn't want to be involved with her. What had she seen in him anyway? Was there more than just his pretty face? He barely spoke, not just to her but to anyone.

She wanted to have the opportunity to thank him for understanding her need and her panic from that first day, but everytime she moved close enough to speak he'd turn and walk away, a stark contrast to his glaring eyes as he followed her about the school. It seemed he could look at her but she couldn't repeat the favour. He tracked her everywhere, his face never changing from his stoney expression, his eyes holding misery, and hurt. Had she been the one to hurt him?

She began to doodle on her notepad, a regular and normal brain break from her learning. Her teachers knew and understood, none: including Ms. Mendeleiev, questioned her or interfered, allowing the girl with the forgotten past to do whatever she needed, whatever she wanted. Just more people giving her the special attention she did not want, but at the moment the lack of attention was craved.

"You do realise you're drawing my boyfriend all over your notebook right? It makes me feel very uncomfortable, Marinette."

Placing her pencil down, she looked up into the eyes of a tearful girl, her stomach churning in response to this olive eyed glare. She didn't know what to say. She didn't even know she'd been drawing Chat Noir, she just started doodling and he had appeared.

"Oh, I-I- didn't know. I just...I saw him the other night and -"

"You saw him? I never thought you were that type of girl, Marinette. You were so sweet, what happened to you?" Marinette looked around, she didn't know what to do. Whoever this girl was filled her with unease, an uncomfortable feeling she'd never had before. She looked around only to find the shocked expressions of everyone glaring at her; studying her like some museum exhibition.

She didn't know Lila, she didn't know anything about this girl. Obviously she'd heard of her, but this is the first time she'd met her. Lila was popular, a girl everyone wanted to either be or have. The guys fawning over her and the girls adoring her. If anyone thought Marinette was taking her boyfriend, the school year would be a hard deal.

"I-I- didn't, I-I mean..." she could feel everyone looking at her, her breath beginning to hitch in her chest, the telltale sign of a panic attack on the brink of release. Not again! She couldn't let it happen again, four weeks and she was finally doing okay, this would be a colossal step in the wrong direction. Lila peered over her causing her to cower back into her seat, her feet coming up on the bench as she wrapped her hands tightly around her knees.

"Lila, back off." She couldn't be sure, but Marinette thought that was Alya's voice.

"Yeah, dudette, not cool." That was definitely Nino.

"Marinette?" The world began to swirl around her, colours mixing together before ending up black and white ombré. The fuzzy feeling of an outer body experience took over her body, making her feel like she was floating on a cloud, a nice fluffy cloud which made her ears buzz and her eyes want to shut. Maybe she could have a quick sleep, after all she was the girl who'd lost her memory, the sad, lonely girl who didn't fit in.

"She's the one trying to steal, my boyfriend! And you think I'm the one in the wrong?" Lila's voice sounded again, but it was too late, she was already swirling into a pit of darkness.

"Back off, Lila!" His voice was there again, he was here to save her once more. Opening her eyes a little, through her impossibly heavy lids, she saw the boy with the golden hair talking to Lila. His mouth moving at a rapid speed and anger lacing through his eyes. Whatever he was saying he wasn't happy, Lila dropping to her knees and sobbing. Marinette's brain trying to piece everything together only for the world to turn black.

That night her dreams involved Lila as a super villain, one she fought against with Chat Noir – together, one that felt like they'd continue to fight against for the rest of their lives.

•••••

Another week passed, Lila leaving her alone and Adrien continuing to stare but not talk, time and time again she'd catch him staring. A look of intrigue and protectiveness. He'd also taken it upon himself to catch her when she fell, guarding her from the likes of Chloé and Lila - but never talking, only a nod or a grunt in admission.

Her confidence had grown, helping her to venture out more; taking opportunities to travel places and sit and sketch. A calm and restful activity which didn't place too much pressure on her brain, or bring back any thoughts of uncertainty.

She liked going near the Eiffel Tower. The view always inspired her designs, her designs which once again looked like him. The broad shouldered silhouettes, the army boots and the thick cuffed coat sleeves.

A 'boom' shook the bench she was sitting on, a mist of something purple taking over the area before suddenly an akuma and four superheroes arrived at the scene. She looked at them in awe. This was the first time she'd seen them in action, they hadn't really been around since her incident.

Her attention was drawn to the cat in black watching as he bounded in the direction of the akuma; she was mesmerised by him. He was everything she imagined, his voice loud and authoritative sounding out instructions and commands to the other heroes attempting to control whatever was causing the mist. His confidence was attractive and all knowing. She stood watching Chat Noir, rooted to the spot; absorbed in him so much, she'd missed what was happening around her, missing the danger she'd put herself in.

As the Akuma approached, she noticed some sort of headgear that was causing the mist to escape and blind the area, creating difficulties for the heroes without supervision. In her hand, she held her pencil set, a rolled up piece of fabric about the size of the hole in the headgear. If she could just get close enough to put it in the hole she could buy the heroes some time, helping them see where the Akuma was and maybe make a decision.

Running over towards the akuma, she brought her arm back ready to insert the bundle into the hole when suddenly her feet were swept from the floor. Her body held by black supermaterial. She turned her head, noticing his green eyes were staring ahead; his jaw clenched in what she felt was anger - towards her. A different look to what she'd seen before but a familiar feeling along with it.

He finally lowered them onto her balcony. His face was violent and rock hard with tension. He turned, ready to launch into the distance and run again.

She grabbed his tail, pulling him back towards her - hard.

"Are you just going to ignore me once again?"

He didn't move, just stood there, his back to her as he looked out towards Paris. She knew he had an akuma to catch but the silence was killing. An unbearable reaction that she had no clue how to overcome. She wanted him to speak, the tears building in her eyes in a need to beg for words from him.

"Speak to me!" she pleaded.

Not one, but two people were ignoring her cries. Her needs. Not one, but two people who she wanted to converse with more than anyone else, to understand their fears, their hopes and their dreams.

"Speak to me!" she yelled this time, her speech thick with emotion. "Please." The tears began to fall, as did the wall between them. Chat Noir turning around only to have tears leaving his own glistening green orbs.

"I can't." His voice was faint, the emotion doubling the thickness of hers. His chest vibrated with stuttering breaths. He bit his bottom lip before turning, his eyes focusing on her potted plants, his hands firmly on his hips.

"Please." She stepped forward, her hands reaching out to touch his, only for him to recoil back as though she'd burnt him. Her heart destroying itself, exploding into a million unfixable pieces. This was excruciating. Every part of her screaming to hang onto him, to just touch him.

"I...can't." He pronounced every syllable, making it perfectly clear she was getting nothing out of him, the pain in her heart only intensifying at his confession.

"You know something don't you?" The pain grew with her grief, her body taking the next step to anger. Her voice was laced with poison spat out at him, pulling from deep within her heart and throwing it at him with the force of a wrecking ball.

"I've got to go." He grabbed the baton he'd repositioned around his back, ready to launch into the sky.

"Do you have any idea what it's like not to remember anything? Do you have any idea how I've been feeling? If you know something you need to tell me, you need to let me know I'm not going insane. That something did happen to me." She stepped up to him, poking a finger into his chest and ignoring the bolt of lightning shooting through her from the contact.

He looked down at her, his voice coming out as a hiss. "You may struggle with everything you've forgotten but I have to live everyday remembering. You can't even comprehend how I am suffering." He took her wrist and moved it gently, yet forcefully off him, holding the contact between them a little too long.

"Everytime you're around I feel different, I feel connected to something, I feel alive. You have something that makes me feel whole again, I need you to tell me." Her voice cracked as she spoke, sheer emotion too much to control. "I need you to help me heal."

"I can't do anything. I'm sorry Princess, but this is the way it is now."

With that he turned and left. The purple mist of the Akuma once again, taking over the Paris skyline.

That night, just as she was drifting off to sleep, a shadow appeared on her covers from an object hitting her skylight, blocking out the ever glowing moon. Curiosity got the better of her, standing up and pushing open the skylight and allowing the object to fall onto her bedsheets.

The first of what soon became a nightly occurrence had been placed for her to find. A single red rose dropping down onto her pillow, completely with a red and black spotted ribbon bowing around the thornless stem.

That night she dreamt of a candle lit rooftop, and the moon at its brightest.

...And one of the holes in her heart began to heal.

•••••

The dreams continued to arrive, each growing in intensity and visuality; becoming almost lifelike, more like memories than figments of her imagination. The way she felt when she woke up was draining, and her sleep was suffering because of that. When her eyes closed her mind became active to a point she didn't want to close them anymore.

The worst part though? They all featured them.

Whether it was an umbrella on a rainy day? A trip to the cinema in her pajamas? A rooftop declaration? Or a kiss they didn't know about? Her mind constantly fluctuated between Adrien and Chat Noir, the former still avoiding her and the latter showering her with gifts and notes.

She was standing on her balcony, arms resting on the cold, harsh reality of her railing as her eyes trailed across the late night of the city. Once again, sleep eluded her, the want to close her eyes and enter her dream world about as appealing as taking a swim in the River Seine.

She'd tried to talk to Adrien again that day, his harsh denial digging into her heart, as once again he turned and walked away from her. Ignoring her advances and friendly gestures. She'd decided to make one more try, one more attempt to get him to talk to her, her subconscious telling her to bake him Passionfruit macarons as a means to make amends, for whatever it was that she'd done.

Though he didn't make a sound, she knew Chat Noir had just landed behind her, coming to deliver his gift once again. The same time every night.

"You're awake."

She nodded, unable to speak. The words from the last time he saw her cutting through her heart once more.

"Something happened between us, didn't it?" Her words hung in the air. The silence between them was aggressive as she looked out over the moon. "Did I - did I leave you?" Her dreams were so vivid, so real. She was sure they were close and she had hurt him, but she couldn't pinpoint to what extent.

"You know, it's been hard," he sighed, walking towards her, resting his arms in the same way. She could feel his heat, his warmth, his security, and she just wanted to get closer, have him hold her to tell her everything was going to be okay, that she could get through this. It was something she needed more than anything.

"Seeing you again," he continued, "it's..." he let out a breath, running his hand across the back of his neck, her heartbeat rapidly increasing as she took note of the very familiar gesture. "It's still...really hard."

"I understand," she muttered out, wiping the tears from her eyes and cheeks, a slight sniff following as she spoke.

They remained in silence. Both standing in perfect coordination, Marinette unsure what to say next, whether she could confide in him.

"I have this dream, whilst I'm asleep. It - um - we're in front of the moon," she gestured in front of her to the glowing rays of moonlight currently being their only source of light, "and you tell me you love me, then you ask me if I love you too and every time, every single time... I say yes," the last words come out quiet, laced in emotions and unknown feelings of hurt and comfort, a feeling that she had once made the wrong decision; as if it had happened and she didn't give him the right answer.

"It's just a dream though, right?" His voice deflated along with his shoulders, his whole body slouching over his arms.

She felt him looking towards her, a pain in her heart at the sadness in his eyes. Was it a dream or was it a memory? His body informing her it was the latter.

"Yes," she responded, before continuing in a whisper "but it's my dream." The lingering words lay between them as they looked into each other's eyes; both knowing and unknowing; so many questions with very little answers.

•••••

It was the night of the leavers' ball. Marinette had spent the better part of two weeks on her dress, and her mother an hour or so on her hair and makeup; a lone cherry blossom settling in the side of her hair.

Finally, collège was over and lycée was mere weeks away. The need for change sat on Marinette heels, the need to be present at the beginning of something. Something she would remember.

Heading towards the main courtyard of Collège Françoise DuPont, Marinette held up her dress to make sure she didn't trip down the staircase. Her clumsiness had remained, she hadn't forgotten that.

She spotted Alya and the girls in the crowd, making her way over to them almost flawlessly until someone bumped into her, sending her straight to the ground.

"Out of the way, Dupain-Cheng, this party is for girls with class. Maybe you should go home before anyone sees that pathetic excuse for a dress you're wearing."

She remained seated on the floor, mourning the cherry blossom which had been discarded from its home, finding a new one on the cold, gravelled floor. Chloé Bourgeois stepped over her, and Marinette watched the girl make her way over to Lila on the other side of the room. Both pointing and laughing at Marinette's pathetic display at being normal. Screwing her hands together, she placed them in the puffed up mound of her dress, more tears threatening to spill which would only result in ruining both her makeup and her evening.

"Pretty girls in beautiful dresses shouldn't be sitting on the floor." His voice threw out a lifeline, a float to save her from the wretched tsunami within her soul.

She looked up. Her bluebell eyes suddenly swarmed with the green grass of Adrien's. The two colliding together, making a perfect picture landscape.

Her eyes remained on his as he offered a hand out to her, his eyebrows softening as he waited for her response, putting the ball firmly in her court. Stretching up, she placed her hand in his, allowing him to reposition her on her feet, the connection between hands feeling almost a repeat of her past life. A declaration of understanding, a missed opportunity, a hold to escape. It felt real, it felt right.

He led her onto the dance floor, her heart racing with anticipation as she stumbled over her heels (his grasp never letting her fall), finally coming to a still when they'd reached the centre of the dancefloor. Adrien took one of her hands in his as she placed the other tentatively on his shoulder, their bodies moving in a combination of hesitation and knowingness. A dance of ease unusual for two people who didn't even speak.

She couldn't help how right it felt. How safe he made her feel, how a small part of her heart began to rejoin the rest, filling in some of the huge gaps that were open and bleeding out. Her wound from an unknown battle. Touching him was making her feel alive again, making her feel like Marinette.

"May I?"

She shifted her head to look at his face, his eyes glaring out into the distance and his mouth firmly shut in a tight straight line. There was no way he'd just said that, yet the words were so, so clear within her head. She could picture it now.

The moon.

The song.

Them.

It all seemed so real. Maybe it was a dream? Maybe she was experiencing deja vu? Maybe it was a missing memory?

Another piece of jigsaw slotted into place, only becoming clearer when he took her hand from his shoulder and placed her knuckle against his lips, his eyes still refusing to look at her.

With a gasp, she pulled her hand away, moving it quickly to cover her mouth. Her jaw dropping and mouth gaping. They'd done this before, she was sure of it. They had danced before and he'd kissed her hand before. They were close. Very close. He wasn't just a pretty face and a model she admired, he was so much more.

"I've - um - I need to go." His hand shifted to the back of his neck as he turned and began to fight his way through the crowds. He must have felt something too.

She stood, frozen to the spot, watching him worm his way out of the building and away from her; excusing himself from the atrium and up the steps, eventually making it out of the building. Clutching her hand to her chest, all she could do was watch him walk away.

Watching him leave the venue in such a hurry made her heart begin to weep; begging for her to go after him, begging for her to ask him to stay.

"What is he to you?"

Marinette looked around for Alya. Her friend's voice clear in her head, asking her what she was going to do, a hint of desperation for her to make the right choice. This had happened before, he'd left her before. With Alya nowhere to be found, a painful throb struck her head instead, a memory...she finally had a full memory.

New York.

A rainy day.

Adrien.

Grabbing hold of her dress, she lifted it from its position gently kissing the ground, and chased after him calling his name. She moved through the crowds with surprising ease, watching as people parted before her like the red sea, letting her out of the venue and onto the steps.

A black ring that was left on a rooftop for her to find.

A sudden downfall of rain set the scene perfectly. Everything needed to bring their story full circle. Taking them back to the beginning.

"I've never had friends before."

"Your friendship is everything to me."

"Us against the world, M'Lady."

"The most fun I have is when I'm with you."

"And me...your loyal partner."

"My life would be very different without you."

"You're special."

Adrien's glowing blond hair shone through the darkened night sky, his body slouching over as he walked away in the rain. Always in the rain. Hand reaching over his head slowly caressing his neck.

"Adrien?" She tried calling his name, but a well timed clap of thunder restricted his hearing. She tried again and again, each time her voice was blocked by Mother Nature. She couldn't let him go, she needed to get to him, regardless of the rain or the storm she had to get there.

It was time to dance in the rain.

She brushed her hair away from her eyes, watching carefully as she made her way down the steps, stopping every couple to shout his name once again; hoping he would turn around only to no avail.

Moving swiftly, she sped up her descent down the staircase when a mere two steps from the pavement her ankle gave way; not used to the height of her heel, she stumbled, closing her eyes as she fell down the last couple of steps.

"I've got you."

His voice touched every single nerve in her body, his hands grasping at her shoulders sending electric pulses through her veins. They'd done this before. She knew that now. They'd done this before, they'd done it all before.

She stabilised herself on her feet, forcing herself to stand up right and look into his emotion filled eyes, tears dripping from his beautiful eyelashes and blending in effortlessly with the rain trickling down his cheeks.

His eyes.

She moved her hand up towards his face. Taking a stray lock of hair from its position obscuring his eyes, and twisting it between her fingers. The rain water running off the end and joining the droplets on his nose before falling, and hiding amongst the others on his soggen shirt. Moving her hand downwards to his face, it began to shake uncontrollably, her fingers tracing over his eyebrows as her thumb traced under his eyes. She didn't care that she was getting wet, nothing in this moment mattered more than this epiphany.

Thunder rolled once more as she gasped, moving her hands down onto his chest, the want and need to continue touching him more than she could have ever imagined. To trace every single part of his body, hoping and praying he was actually what her memories were telling her, that he was who she was being guided to. The touch of his face, the hardness of his body, the length of his hair; everything was right. Exactly what it should be.

Her eyes were leaking into the rain and she wasn't sure anymore which was producing the most liquid; his own still trailing down his cheeks battling against her for first position. Her eyes remained locked on his as her breath hitched in her chest, part of the aftermath of the crying, of the sudden knowledge that he was something to her. No, that wasn't right, he was more than something; he was everything.

His hands trembled as they covered both of hers and locked onto them tightly, his own breath shuddering with nervousness and realisation. He lifted them, bringing them to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of her cold, damp hands. Her mouth opened wide, as did her eyes, before a smile stretched the width of her face.

"It was you. It was always you."

As thunder echoed in the sky once more, Adrien's face lit with more energy than the lightning, his body bending down to lift her by the backs of her knees and spinning her around as they both laughed. The joyous sound, a pathetic fallacy to the weather around them. Danger and change no longer the meaning of the storm, but a cleansing and a new beginning.

Lowering her delicately back onto her heels, the rain no longer could dampen their new found feelings. It was back. Everything she had lost was back.

"I remember! I remember it all, Kitty!"

Adrien's choked sobs had him closing his eyes and tipping his head back.

"And if-" he sniffed, not letting her go to wipe his tears. His voice hoarse with unshed emotion, his next words a mere whisper blending into Mother Nature's next attack. "And if I said I love you?"

"I would ask you what took you so long." Her words were as quiet as his, emotion building the thickness in her throat to an unexpectable level that she just couldn't push it down. The thunder ricocheted between the buildings, coup de foudre striking down behind them lighting the scene for a first love turning into a forever love.

She was no longer scared of the rain or storm. She didn't need an umbrella to protect her, all she ever needed was right here holding her close, and tight. He was her protection.

He sniffed, laughing once more as he took her into a second spin, allowing her body to glide down his and back to the stability of the ground, not that she needed concrete when she was undeniably safe in his arms.

"I would love it," she said quietly, "if you would kiss me."

He laughed again, his voice rumbling alongside the thunder as he took her cheeks in his hands and moved down to her. His perfect peach lips meeting what was left of her sparkling pink lipgloss, both ignorant to the cheering suddenly sounding from the collège stairway.

Their own world.

Their own bubble.

Them.

Breaking apart, he pressed his forehead against hers, the warm yet wet feeling mixing with that of her own.

"I have something for you."

He led her away, finding an alleyway close by to shelter them from prying eyes. Breaking away he dropped down onto one knee, pulling a small hexagonal box from his jacket pocket and presenting it to her. "This cat is lonely. So, what do you say? Can I have my bug back?"

As if responding to a proposal of life together, Marinette dropped to her knees, encompassing Adrien in her arms and sobbing for the renewal of her life. After over two months of not knowing and not understanding she now knew it all. It was all flooding back; piece by piece, memory by memory until the gaps were no more; in both her mind and her heart.

Finally letting go of the grip on her partner, she took the earrings from the box, connecting them back with her ears and welcoming an old friend. She was finally home.

"I knew you could do it, Marinette," Tikki said. Flying around the couple, giggling under the water; Plagg joining mere seconds after.

"We knew they could do it, Sugar Cube. The power of true love."

Slotting her hands into Adrien's, they stood up together calling for their powers and leaping into the stormy night, bounding from rooftop to rooftop. Squealing and laughing as they finally returned to what they did best. Together.

They didn't stop until they reached their rooftop overlooking the Eiffel Tower. Side but side, holding the other close so as to never let them go again. A black umbrella appeared from Chat Noir's staff, covering not only their already soaked hair but giving them both powerful and unshakable protection as long as they were together.

"Do you forgive me?" She asked, looking up to the man who had been by her side through everything, even when she didn't know.

"You had no choice, M'Lady. There's nothing to forgive. You're here with me now and that's all that matters." His piercing eyes looked straight into her soul, surrounding it with intense love and support. He cared so much for her, and fought through to the end.

All in the name of love.

"I love you, my kitty."