Author's Note: Hey guys. So quick note, anything in bolded parenthesis (example: Like this) you can totally disregard...this is what happens when I don't have an editor that doesn't allow me to get away with crap like this. I'm sorry, but not especially, so the comments stayed. This chapter gets kind of heavy so call it comedic relief, or the author's outlet for bitter sarcasm and wittiness that she cannot fully express during the school day, or just call it notes. Anyways, just what's in the bolded parenthesis.  

Adrien's wedding day went by in a blur. He vaguely remembered waking up, showering and eating. He remembered getting dressed and heading out the door, phone vibrating   aggressively (may be read as agreste-vely)  as he got in the car to go the church. There, he knew, he was fussed over and put into the too hot (for you) tux for hours. Then he was stuck in a little room where he paced and practiced his lines until they came to fetch him. He knew that they walked him up and stood him at the alter, but he could not tell you what the color of the carpet was.  And he knew that for quite some time he stood at the alter watching people he never knew filing in. He saw Mrs. Dupain-Cheng come in, giving him gigantic smiles before sitting down in the front row. He remembered how he felt the ever present guilt gnawing at his heart again.  He heard a clock chime five, the wedding was an hour late. He heard paparazzi twitter, cameras held at ready, prepared to shoot at any moment. His head spun as music began to play and everyone turned, a little cousin of Marinette's in a pink dress came first. He watched as relatives on hers passed as flower girls, the ring bearer, brides maids, the maid of honor and finally the bride. 

Mr. Dupain-Cheng walked her in, the proud expression gracing his features was hard to miss. (Another pang to Adrien's heart.) And beside him, walked a creature in silk and lace. Marinette looked stunning, but that was no surprise to Adrien. Even as she looked like a celestial goddess floating down the aisle; Adrien had always known, from days long ago passed, that Marinette was beautiful. He felt her eyes on him, and like the coward that he was, he let his gaze drop to admire the dress. 

It was clear that Marinette designed the dress; it was ethereal. Delicate lace formed a halter neckline and crept down her chest to meet two mirrored strips of fabrics coming up to cover the tips of her breasts. From those tips, the white silk plunged into a deep V. The V stopped at her waist, where it was met by a strip of ribbon. The skirt clung to her hips, following the natural line to create the slightest of bell shapes. Crystals along the lace and embroidery of the skirt, twinkled out in the fading light coming through stain glass windows. 

Adrien started to count her steps towards him. She would meet him in ten steps. In seven. In five. 

At three steps he somehow found the courage to look up. Her hair was curled and pinned and twisted this way and that, creating an elaborate updo. Contrasting the dark color in her hair, were red and white roses holding the gossamer veil billowing around until it ended at her shoulders. 

Two steps. He let his eyes wander over her face. He saw her strong jawline. Her lips painted a light pink, curled into a soft smile. Her cheeks hinting at roses. He saw the sprinkling of faint freckles decorating her nose, as if an artist had accidentally flicked the stars across an unsuspecting canvas. He saw her forehead hidden by swooping side bangs. 

One step. Finally he dared to look into her eyes. He saw blue accentuated by dark eyelashes and light eyeliner. He saw the black of her pupils and the trenches of blues. He saw the compassion and determination he had seen before. But today he saw something new; he saw the fear he felt mirrored in her eyes.                                                                                                                                                      He felt her fingers tremble as her father handed her off. He could see the way she shook under the lace she word like a suit of armor.  And as they turned to face each other, he truly saw her for who she was; human. Through his reminiscing he nearly missed it, but as he pulled his attention back to her, he saw her smile widen.  

And as Adrien listened to the ceremony and said his vows and promises and leaned in to kiss his bride, he smiled back. 

Adrien sat ungainly on the bed. The wedding ceremony, and the equally excruciatingly awkward wedding reception that followed was done. But now that it had ended, Adrien couldn't help but feel as if it hadn't lasted long enough.  With hands on his bouncing knees, he looked everywhere except the closed bathroom door. Behind the seemingly innocent door, his wife was changing into her pajamas. And after she had changed, she could be coming to bed; to sleep; next to him. 

He took a shaky breath, and buried his face in his hands. 

Its not that he was dreading sleeping with her. But it had been years since he had something as intimate as sharing part of his personal space and sleeping next to someone. It had been since..., well that doesn't matter.New distressing thoughts jolted Adrien out of his self pitying ruminating suddenly;  

What if I snore really loud? Or what if I accidentally roll over and hit her in the face? What if I fart in my sleep? What if I suddenly get a boner? 

That last thought made his stomach clench in panic. Thinking back to all the romance novels he had ever read and all the cheesy chick flicks he had ever watched, he remembered what normally happened during the wedding night. His entire face flushed as he remembered that normal couples didn't just ~sleep~ during the first night when they were, (legally) for the first time, united in mind, soul, heart and....body. He gulped. Oh my god, what if she thinks I expect something from her? The sudden thought made his stomach turn sour. 

What is she wants...? Are we going to...? I-I've kissed her twice, I'm not ready! 

Adrien got up and started pacing, his face appearing to permanently be a scarlet, ruddy mess. 

Surely Marinette doesn't think that I expect that from her right? Surely she doesn't think that I want that from her right now, just because we're married. Does she want that? Is she the type of person who doesn't mind doing that with whomever? With no feelings or strings attatched? Marinette's not that type of person, right? Not that there is anything wrong if she is! I'm not slut shaming her but I'm sure she's experienced, I mean, look at her, but what if she isn't? If we do...that...will she laugh at my inexperience? Will she even want to do it after she finds out I'm a virgin? Does she even want to do it?If she wants to do that...I g-guess I could, I want to wait until we get to know each other better but if she wants to...But what if she doesn't but thinks I do?! I mean I'm sure that's what she thinks, but what if she's as scared as I am?  Is she...is she preparing herself right now? Is she forcing herself to be okay with this? Is she trying to force herself just because we're married now? Is she willing to sacrifice herself just for the needs of this company? 

That last question, though a bit off topic,  had been swirling around in his brain since the very beginning. The acidic thought burning and eating away at his rationality. Marinette had given him an answer to the question already, he knew, unfavorable as the answer was; but he just couldn't help but feel as if Marinette didn't realize what she was giving up. She didn't realize that she was essentially selling her life away. Her freedom. 

Could one person really be that selfless? Could be that unafraid? 

To sacrifice herself; her dreams; her hopes; her happiness; to save others? Others who she hadn't even met, hadn't even cared about? 

To give everything, to a stranger, for the sake of others? 

Adrien smiled sadly to himself. She reminds me of the superheroes I used to read about in comic books. He remembered how he always looked up to those heroes. How he used to blindly believe that the world was a good place, that selfless people existed, that people who cared about the well-being of strangers existed...how even a forgotten little boy, could maybe do something somewhat meritorious. But those dreams had died with the little boy and never had his subconscious entertained such fallacies again...until maybe now. 

He stood up from where he had sunk down onto the mattress. 

Adrien is no hero, that much is clear; he is too damaged, too cynical, too destructive. But Marinette...

Marinette may just be a superhero; who is self-sacrificing, who no one ever knows; no one ever recognizes; and who never gains any recognition for all she does. Never does she ask for anything in return, sickeningly noble and just and good. Maybe Marinette is a superhero, maybe she's isn't. But Adrien knew one thing for sure; Marinette may be prepared to throw everything away to save a pathetic excuse of a man who will place her name on a gravestone, commemorating a lie and disillusioned ownership, and to save a company and everyone going down with it; but there was no way in hell that he was going to let her crash and burn for his sake, no matter how far he fell. 

If Marinette was going to give her light to everyone else, he would give her his; to fill in the agonizing, destructive cracks where her light was forcing its way through. He may not be selfless, he may not be brave enough to become a hero like her, to give himself to others completely; but he could become her second. Someone to bandage the self- mutilating wounds she inflicted on herself, the blood staining others gloved hands that they easily peel away and discard. To heal the cuts she made herself, with strangers cold fingers pressing against her wrists; their words sweetly ghosting against her skin in encouragement; her heart split and crumbling so the stranger's hearts may still beat in their chest.

Adrien is no hero. Self-preservation a habit he just couldn't quit (much like Marinette's, only on the opposite end of the spectrum). But perhaps, he could give all the self he has preserved (and will) to her. Adrien could not devote himself to the greater good, but he would devote himself to her; and maybe, just maybe, be able to feel that a no matter how broken, damaged and cynical; a little boy can also give some light. 

Adrien's incredibly cheesy (and incredibly, suddenly, very dark) thoughts, motivated him as he took purposeful steps towards the now seemingly flimsy bathroom door. His fist spurred on by courage he never knew he possessed. He knocked. 

"Marinette?" 

"I'll be out in a minute, Adrien. You can go ahead and go to bed." 

While her words were reasonably calm; her shaking voice told Adrien everything he needed to know. He blew out his breath and set his head against the door as he contemplated how to phrase his thoughts. 

"Marinette...I'm not...I'm not expected anything from you," He paused before going on, "I mean, I know that we're married and I know what normally happens, but I'm not expecting that. That doesn't mean that I don't want to! I mean, I don't! Not yet! But its not because you're n-not pretty! You're gorgeous! And it's not that I'm not attracted to you! And if you want to, I'm not shaming you! I just wanna wait, but if you really want--" His babbling was cut off by her giggles. His head jerking forward as the door swung open. 

His heart broke as he saw Marinette. She was wearing a loose, cream colored, baby-doll top, with matching, puffy, shorts. Her hair was loose, curling around her bare shoulders. And on her face she wore a small smile, with tears gathered in her eyes. 

"Sorry." She said softly, dropping her gaze. Even if she couldn't see, he returned her small smile with one of his own.

Adrien inched  forward, and gently laid his hand on her head. He felt Marinette's hands come up, fingertips lightly resting on the space right below his chest. 

"It's alright. You don't need to apologize. We're fine. (pause for dramatic effect) We're fine." (Nailed it)

They stayed there for a minute, allowing relief and unnamed emotions to saturate them. 

Eventually, they separated and made their way to their own sides of the bed. Adrien watched as Marinette got into the bed and wormed her way under the blankets. He waited until he was sure she was comfortable before he switched off the lamp on the bedside table. Surrounded in darkness, Adrien himself, wormed his way underneath the blankets. Placing one hand under his head, he settled back and stared up at the ceiling. Before long he felt his eyelids grow heavy, and start to close. 

Nearly asleep, he startled as he found a small hand hesitantly slip into his. 

"Hey, Adrien?" Marinette's earlier hesitancy edging into her voice as well. 

"Yeah?" He tightened his fingers around hers as he responded. 

"What's your favorite color?" 

He chuckled before answering. "Green. What's yours?" 

"Pink." 

He made a noncommittal noise as his fingers interlaced with hers. 

"Hey, Adrien?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you."  

At that, Adrien, rolled over on his shoulder (still holding her hand) to face her. He heard her take in a deep breath and hold it, obviously expecting the worse. His eyes had adjusting to the dark and he saw her silhouette still. He paused, hesitant, before leaning over, pushing back her hair and pressing a light kiss to her forehead. 

"I swear to you, Marinette, I will never hurt you. Never, ever. So if I ever do something that hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I won't ever do it again. Okay?" He waited until she nodded before he continued. "I don't care what my dad wants or what the press wants or even what I want; as long as you're not okay with it, I won't do it." 

With that he squeezed her hand and returned to his previous position of lying at his back. He felt Marinette return the pressure, feeling her hand shake and heard her quiet crying. Stroking the back of her hand, he continued staring at the ceiling. His heart breaking knowing that he couldn't comfort her because even though he was her husband, it would still be the comfort of a stranger. 

Author's Note: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE CUTE, AWKWARD FLUFF! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? WHAT IS THIS ANGST *flailing hands and wails* I'm sorry, this ending is not what I planned. And can I just say that I do not understand! (Anyone get that reference?) I'll try and update next weekend, but I am back in school now so I may not be able to write as often as I'd like. Again, I'm sorry. 

Love, 

Cutesylittledemon