Adrien had left his apartment much earlier than planned, feeling increasingly fidgety. Despite his desire to linger and spend more time with Marinette as the day unfolded, an unsettling feeling urged him to leave.

He hated this day with a passion. It was the day his mother had died over 10 years ago. He hadn't thought twice when he'd invited Marinette back last night - not after the episode in the alleyway. And knowing what today was, he liked the idea of having someone with him... No, not liked - loved. Just waking up and knowing there was a really sweet girl in his apartment, one who made him smile again, filled him with hope for the day. Almost as though his mother had sent him a guardian angel.

As usual, he'd woken up at the crack of dawn, embracing the chance to sit on his balcony with a coffee in hand and the latest news on his phone. Then it was as though something had forced him to leave. His internal voice had, once again, demanded that he do something.

So, he'd written Marinette a quick note and left, picking up some Forget-Me-Nots and making his way to the cemetery, heading straight to his mother's grave. There was a memorial in the mansion's garden for her, but she had wanted to be buried here, in the church. She'd loved the tree she was buried under and always said it was her resting spot. Under the tree and on top of the hill, she was always sheltered and able to look out and over him.

God, he missed her so much! Even after all these years, the pain hadn't gone away; it had just changed.

"Good morning, Mother, how are you today?" He knelt down in the dry, dusty soil without a care in the world for what would remain on his jeans.

"I can't believe how long you've been gone. It feels like only yesterday we were laughing and singing as you made pancakes in the kitchen. I wish Father would have spent more time watching how you did it. Did I tell you about the time he almost set the kitchen on fire? It was crazy! The fire department turned up and requested that he take cooking lessons before he ended up killing us both." He laughed to himself before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a wad of tissues.

Adrien started to clean the stone, making sure his mother's golden name was clear for all to see. He'd come here more often, now he was back in Paris. He knew his father kept a close eye on the grave, having it maintained to perfection, but with the move to England, Adrien would make sure he took his father's place.

"I'm sorry I haven't been as often as I should have. It was hard with the move to London and then setting up the business with Félix..." He took a deep breath in, closing his eyes as he slowly exhaled. "But I'm back now, and there's a chance I'll be here for good. I feel like it's time to move on with my life, to start looking toward the next chapter and maybe even, finally, settling down." He sighed and stretched a hand out, grabbing a leaf stuck on the top of the headstone and twirling it between his fingers.

"Félix and Kagami are getting married in a month and I'm so envious, not because of Félix marrying Kagami but because I want love like that. I've tried, Maman, I've really tried." His voice broke, thickly coating itself in want and desire – a need for something pure and true. "But the only one who came close is unreachable. We can't be together. It wouldn't be safe."

And I don't even know where she is!

Letting out a sigh, Adrien stood to full height. One of his hands trailed over the smooth edging of the stone, his thumb caressing the waterfall edge of the marble before tracing the letters of her name.

Beloved wife and adored mother.

His voice lowered as the words battled to free themselves from his lips. "Give me a sign, Maman. Let me know there's someone out there for me. Someone who could love me for who I am."

Adrien stood silently at his mother's headstone, lost in thoughts of cherished memories and unspoken words. Suddenly, a loud car horn pierced the solemn air, snapping him out of his reverie. Annoyed, he turned towards the noise, only to be greeted by an unexpected and slightly comical sight.

There, stumbling across the road, was Marinette dressed in sombre black, her brow furrowed in concentration. She appeared to be engaged in a spirited conversation, her gestures animated as if she was on a hands-free call. Adrien couldn't help but smile at the peculiar scene unfolding before him.

As Marinette drew closer to the church hall where the memorial was underway, Adrien's curiosity got the better of him. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he decided to playfully intervene.

He looked back at his mother's headstone and raised an eyebrow. "You don't waste time, do you, Maman?"

He shifted his attention back to Marinette and couldn't help but smile. Seeing her now was like a soothing balm on fresh wounds. It had reached the point where he eagerly anticipated seeing her each day. Even messaging her wasn't a chore like it was with Chloé or Kagami. And compared to the effort it took to converse with Chelsea, it was a breeze.

He watched her walk through the grounds and settle herself against the wall. The sun shone down on her hair and reflected the light in an eye-catching blue. It would be so easy to fall hard for her, but that wasn't the relationship she wanted and he wouldn't push something which could make her uncomfortable. He enjoyed their time together too much.

They were in a weird situationship, and being able to be her plus one was a dream come true, one he wouldn't trade for the world. He felt like he had his first friend...his first real friend, at least. One he'd made himself, who didn't see him as just the face who showcased a company.

"I'll come back and see you soon." He placed his hand on the grave once more. His lips pulled into a sad but hopeful smile as he ventured down towards his new bestie.

He reached her in no time, unable to suppress a grin as he observed her comically banging her head against the wall.

One thing led to another, and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was walking into the memorial with Marinette's arm laced through his.

The memorial was for a Will Timbler, who was a Chat Noir lookalike...well, as much as an 89-year-old could be.

Pictures decorated the room: Chat Noir, SnakeNoir, Bunny Noir... So many variations of himself in rather unique positions. Painfully unique positions. Adrien couldn't help but wince as he saw the old fella attempt to pull the classic superhero pose with a walking stick. Bless his soul!

Adrien had joined the Chat Noir fan club (as himself) at the beginning of his superhero stint and quickly restricted his viewing of the site — everything here reconfirming his reason why.

Not only were there many stipulations about who he might be, but there were also the added cringe factor of those guessing who he might be doing.

"Are we just walking in like we belong here?" Marinette asked.

Adrien pulled his phone from his pocket and searched for the fan site, keeping his other arm attached to Marinette's. Using his right hand, he managed to navigate the phone to the correct website and pull up the events page.

There it was: The Memorial of Monsieur Will Timbler, one of the founding members of the Chat Noir fan club and an esteemed cosplayer. He most certainly had an original take on it.

"It's on the webpage," he said. "We're fine."

"Talk for yourself," a voice whispered in his ear.

Placing his phone back in his pocket, he stretched to his ear and placed a finger inside, giving it a rather hefty shake. What the hell was that?

Marinette moved in a little closer to his body. "If you say so."

They continued into the main area of the hall, attention being drawn to them for the lack of super attire...and most likely Marinette's beauty.

People of all ages, ethnicities and cultures stood around the room, laughing, joking and chatting with each other, toasting the life of one of their own.

"Is that Adrien Agreste?"

He heard the whispers through the crowds, his face heating up and a smile faltering on his lips. He may have left Paris a while ago, now sporting a very unattractive pair of glasses, but it seemed his face was still recognisable.

"You're taking the shine off Will," Marinette whispered, but he didn't laugh at her joke. She stopped, the abrupt halt almost causing him to fly backwards and out of the door. "You don't like the attention, do you?"

Adrien shook his head. "I hate it! I just want to be me."

"And what is 'you'?" she suddenly asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, only to close it quickly. Who was he? Wasn't that just the million euro question?

He always thought he knew. That he was comfortable in his body and with his personality, but then...he glanced down at his ring. Without his other half he felt half a man. So, was he more Chat Noir than Adrien? Or did he need the additional flamboyant side to round off his personality?

Chat Noir had always felt more like freedom than an alter ego, maybe his was a little more made up and exaggerated. But having this sudden disconnect only brought it to his attention that maybe, just maybe, it was him.

So when all else failed, Adrien went on his defence. "I'm just a guy, standing in front of a girl —"

Marinette snorted. "Are you seriously Notting Hilling me?"

"It seems to work on YouTube." Her laughter twinkled like the soft noises of an angel, until it was overtaken by a loud guffaw in his ear.

"Ha! He thinks he's Hugh Grant! What an absolute pleb!"

"I see you more as Colin Firth than Hugh Grant." She looked him up and down, and he couldn't help but be mesmerised by the glittering of her eyes. "You'd be a wonderful Mr Darcy."

"Does that mean you think I'm arrogant and proud?" he asked, amusement wrapping the words like cotton wool.

She shrugged. "You may seem it at first, but then you open up and people can see your tender and sensitive side."

And there went the butterfly farm in his stomach. "I'm not —"

"Adrien! No way! Adrien Agreste, I haven't seen you in years. How have you been, man?" Their conversation was drawn to a premature conclusion as Adrien's name was squealed across the hall.

Sounds of gasped conversations echoed around the area and Adrien felt a familiar unease creep up the back of his neck.

He studied the face of the guy who'd approached him, something in the back of his mind telling him he knew the face. He just needed to try and piece it together. "Good, I'm good! How about you?"

The hair was familiar, the face slightly more rounded than when he'd last seen him, and the Chat Noir costume, plus mask, made it harder to place. That was until a memory of a cardboard cut-out and almost stalkerish behaviour hit him. Wayhem. It was Wayhem, his number one - ex-number one - fan.

He looked over at Marinette in a way that made Adrien's skin crawl. He was looking at her like fresh meat. The whole unspoken interaction had Adrien on defence, causing him to place a hand on Marinette's lower back.

"I'm great! I'm so glad you could make it." Wayhem grabbed Adrien's free hand and shook it enthusiastically before turning to look at Marinette. "Who is this beauty? Is this why you and Chelsea split up?"

A voice spoke in his head. 'Are you going to let him look at her like that. Tell him yes! Now!'

Marinette began to answer. "Oh, n—"

"Yep," Adrien interrupted her. "She's the light of my life. I found her on my first day back in Paris."

Wayhem looked between them, his face showing complete disbelief. "Did you know each other before?"

'Come on, Agreste! You used to be an actor. Make this believable!' His little brain pal muttered.

"No, she helped me at IKEA when I was trying to decide on the best wardrobe. She took pity on me that day, and has done every day since."

He looked to Marinette, knowing there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and he prayed she understood what he was saying without him actually saying it.

A small, strong hand smacked him in the chest as an arm looped around his waist. "He's so funny...but it is true...he's a mess. But he's my mess!" She smacked him in the chest once more, a little harder than what before. He may have stepped a teeny, tiny bit over the line.

'Yeah, but Wayhem doesn't believe your story. Put your arm around her or something. Stop being a prude.'

"I'm not a prude," Adrien announced, Marinette gasping beside him. Her cheeks had turned an interesting shade of pink, and Adrien was quite sure their budding friendship was over.

'Dear Lord! You're a goddamn mess, Ken! Get yourself out of this predicament now! I can't believe I'm saying this but you need to kiss her or something! Do it! Kiss her! Kiss her!'

Unsure what to do, and feeling like a deer in the headlights, Adrien could tell they suddenly had an audience very interested in finding out why Adrien Agreste was not a prude. He smiled awkwardly at Marinette before moving his head down, eyes closed and his lips homing in on hers — only to meet with flesh that most certainly didn't belong on her face.

"Now, now, Hot Stuff, we've spoken about this before."

He opened his eyes to find his face fully planted on her palm. Well...this was not going as expected. She pushed him back away from her, attempting to smile even though he had clearly been denied.

Marinette spoke with a slight quiver in her voice. And you could blame her? "Excuse us, please."

Grabbing him by the edge of his jacket, Marinette pulled him away from the startled looking Chat Noir wannabe and into the corner of the room. Feeling like a naughty schoolboy, Adrien winced as she removed her hand from his jacket and crossed her arms.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded.

"I didn't like the way he was looking at you."

"I'm a big girl, Agreste, I can look after myself."

"I never said you couldn't. I just know Wayhem and he can be a little...clingy."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Come on, I think we should go."

"Heroes, please take your seats. The Miraculous quiz will begin in 10 minutes, so grab your drinks and your snacks and prepare your lucky charms."

Adrien couldn't believe his luck. If he ever wanted to impress Marinette, now was the time to do so. A Miraculous quiz...he knew everything about the Miraculous! Well, almost. He looked at her with a hopeful expression, his hands joining together in the middle of his chest.

"No!" she said, her eyes looking over his shoulder. Adrien turned around, trying to find who she was talking to, only to come up short.

"Excuse me?"

She blinked herself from her trance and looked at him. "Um – I don't think staying for the quiz would be the best idea."

"Marinette, believe me when I say I'm an avid reader of the Ladyblog. I've been the number one supporter for years and I may have a slight obsession with the spotted goddess. I can get us through this — trust me."

Marinette was always great at displaying a vast array of colours on her cheeks, but this one was a colour he'd never seen before.

"Spotted... goddess?" she stuttered out.

Adrien shrugged. Well, it was the truth. Though his overall obsession had calmed down greatly, no one could deny she was one hell of a woman. "What do you say? Please!"

He pulled out his kitten eyes, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to deny him, or resist being mighty impressed.

"Ugh, fine," she said, and she grabbed his hand and led him back into the main hall.