(Dedicated to Mystic_Raven20 )

Listen to- Let You Go by Mountenz👆

------------------

"For the last time, Kagami said that she was sorry," Adrien pays the grumpy woman in the airport parking deck's toll booth, "she had to practice for the championship."

"Yeah, right." Scoffing, Marinette fiddles with her jade bracelet, "As if there's no other reason. Seriously, did you think I'd believe that?"

A strange hush falls over the car at words, and she irritably realizes that all of her friends are listening with interest. Even Alya is following their conversation for once.

The jovial mood crashes in a split second.

Noticing this, the bluenette inhales deeply, turning to look outside the window, her eyes set in a distant stare. Cold. Drizzling.

The city is pearl gray. The overcast sky and the stone buildings emit the same cold elegance, but ahead of them, the Panthéon shimmers. Its massive dome and impressive columns rise up to crown the top of the neighborhood. Every time she sees it, it's difficult to pull away.

Adrien encourages himself to look at Marinette, just one more time, to take in the differences and process them slowly. It's just surreal. But it's impossible to ignore her behaviour towards him. The choked silence between them ricochets off each other. He grows scared. He keeps quiet.

His mind spins as it tries to connect the Marinette of the present with the Marinette of the past. She's grown up and grown into her skin, but it's still her. The same girl he fell in love with in the junior year.

He blames it on her boyfriend.

Marinette was always. . . nice, and beautiful. But the year they turned 17, that year, that was the year, everything changed. . .

It is quiet for a while.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eyes, he notices a flurry of movement and he's surprised and hopeful to see that she had activated the partition between them and the backseats, still refusing to look at him.

Adrien reaches out to flick a few buttons, locking the privacy screen in place. Their hands touch. Not unintentional. His index finger over her thumb. For a second.

She jerks away.

Their eyes meet in an arrested stare, and Marinette inhales audibly. Again. And she sqirms in her seat. "I'm sorry. About all that. Jet lag's kind of messy, you know right?"

Her eyes flicker around the room nervously, as they both realize that what she said definitely wasn't the case. She bites her thumbnail.

Adrien looks relieved, or at least he tries to. "Yes. I mean, it's okay. It's great to see you after five years. So. . . How have you been, Mademoiselle LA? No calls, or texts, or emails. "

There is a strange sour note to the last part of his sentence. As if he has any right to feel hurt after doing THAT, she thinks bitterly.

Marinette pastes a fake smile. One that she hopes says, I'm not that person anymore. You didn't hurt me, and I never think about you. "Good, good. I texted you on your birthday. Didn't you see? "

The urge to hurt him was overwhelming.

How could he see the text if she never typed it out? She just wanted to remind him of what happened. Tell him that there's no need to play innocent.

As expected, a crumpled copy of a hurt expression flashes on his face.

Somehow, his reaction doesn't exactly satisfy her as much as she thought. And frustration clouds her mind. Dealing with him is going to be hard.

"Oh, sorry." His face have been wiped off any emotion. "There must have been some issues with the network."

Marinette fumbles with her phone. The time? What's the time? The screen glares back at her. 14:04. Still 1 hour to home.

There's a traffic jam, and the car slows down. "Oh, I almost forgot. There's a business dinner tonight and Father thinks you ought to be there. At 6. Aunt Bourgeois will be there too, I think."

"Got it."

Tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel for a while, Adrien suddenly turns to face her, appearing apologetic. "Look, about what happened. . . We can be friends after that, right? I mean, no hard feelings?"

Her heart constricts painfully. "I-I don't know about that. Every time you say this exact same thing, I end up getting hurt. Someway or the other."

But I want it nonetheless. I want to be friends with you. But she doesn't say it out loud. She doesn't have the courage to.

Adrien shifts closer. He whispers. "Please."

They're both sitting still. A small part of her screams to get away, but she doesn't.

So close to each other.

His gaze is locked on hers, and her heart pounds painfully. Marinette shuffles back towards the window and looks away. He hurt her.

Yet, so far away.

He hurt her. He hurt her bad. Why does she have to keep reminding herself of this?

Adrien is taken.

"When did you buy this car?" Marinette's desperate to change the mood. "Boy, I missed a lot, didn't I?"

She glances back, and he's still staring at her.

He bites his nail before replying. His voice is odd. "I bought this just when we started college. Uh, did a lot of tuitions."

"Really? Wow, good for you. Really, really . . . good."

"Mari. . ."

"Which college have you enrolled in? Fashion, I suppose?"

"No, actually. Literature."

"Oh."

"Mari. . ."

"Hmm?" She cranes her head to look at the sea of cars in front of them. Why isn't the traffic light green yet? Why? Why? WHY? That was a stupid question about his college, wasn't it? Of course he studying literature. She should've known-

"Is it okay if I talk about us?" A pause. "I don't want to offend you. I mean, any more than I already have."

A lump forms in her throat. "Adrien. You've never offended me."

"But I hurt you." His voice grows quiet. "I wish that I hadn't."

Marinette feels relieved as the car starts again. The chilly air tumbles into the vehicle like a small child collapsing into her mother's embrace, making her shiver even under two layers of sweaters and coats.

And the words are tumbling out before she can stop them. "We were so close, and then you just dropped me. I felt like such an idiot. I don't understand what happened."

"Marinette," He expertly maneuvers the car to the right. "I should've told you something. Something about what happened at my birthday five years ago."

Distractedly, she places a hand on her chest for a split second. The acceleration of her heartbeat is sudden and painful. "What is it?"

"Not here." Adrien looks uncomfortable. "Can we go out for a walk? After your dinner at my house?"

His phone rings dramatically, and Adrien apologizes to her, before picking up the call in a hurry.

"Hi! How was the match?"

Perhaps it was the twinkle in his eyes, or maybe just his way of speaking. But there was no mistaking that it was his girlfriend on the other side of the call.

Marinette looks away.

"I told you I was picking up Mari."

She says something.

"Oh come on, Kagami. She's just a-"

Marinette stares unblinkingly at her hands. Waiting for the axe to drop. Again.

However, this time, Adrien stops abruptly, closing his eyes and she gets the strangest feeling that he's in pain.

Kagami says something, and he waits. Then, he shrugs helplessly, one hand tightening on the wheel. "She's Marinette."

----

It is taking all his effort not to stride over to her, and wrap his coat around the surplus of skin she was baring. And the funny thing is that no one seems to notice anything odd about her.

Marinette's dressed in a simple white cotton sleeveless dress which ends two centimeters above her knee, paired with a fashionable red half-jacket and high combat boots. They click on the marble floor as she walks around to different groups, accompanied by Audrey, smiling and talking.

Sipping on a glass of chilled champagne, Adrien smooths his tie self-conciously, looking around the large hall. The women are dressed in colorful gowns that had been embroidered and beaded and trimmed with lace. The men are clad in sober black and brilliant white, the plainness of their attire meant to serve as a suitable backdrop for the display of the women.

Feeling irritable, he shoots another furtive glance at her direction, and half of his brain promptly shuts down.
She is talking to a unknown guy who suspiciously also looks like a serial killer.

The spectacled guy is dressed well in a black t-shirt and navy blue jeans, layered by a rust orange overcoat. His hazel eyes holds a good-natured twinkle, as he leans forward to touch her arm. He says something and Marinette bursts into laughter.

Wait, didn't he see this guy with Chloé before? Uh. . . where did he see? Where did he see him? Ohhhh, wasn't he the guy whose picture Chloé posted on Instagram with a heart caption?

With a growing suspicion, Adrien inches closer, trying to look as leisurely as possible. A lot of reporters were here too, and one misstep, and he's going to make the headlines tomorrow morning: ADRIEN AGRESTE CHEATS ON HIS GIRLFRIEND WITH A BEAUTIFUL CHILDHOOD FRIEND.

And he doesn't want to put Marinette through that kind of torture. One rodeo was enough for him to learn his lesson.

Much to his impatience, Adrien is hijacked by at least ten groups of women, and he is forced to deal with the attack, showing a tight-lipped smile. He looks at Marinette every now and then, and she is still talking to that fellow.

As if Luka wasn't enough to test his patience. God, that woman-

But, unfortunately, as soon as he was going to call out her name and talk to her out of getting heartbroken by a two-timer, it is time for dinner.

A dinner party, any dinner party, organised by Audrey Bourgeois, is a grand ordeal. And this was not an exception.

Traditionally, a French dinner spans for over 5 hours with nine to twelve courses. Even after that, there's desserts and business talks.

Audrey is seated at the head of the table, due to absence of his father, as usual, and he is to her right. When he looks up, Adrien is pleased to find that Marinette is right across him. But the fleeting moment of happiness immediately vanishes when he notices that she is absorbed in a conversation with that guy, hanging onto his every single word.

As the waiters started bringing out the dishes, he secretly snaps The Cheater's picture and sends it to Chloé.

His phone pings not long after.

Chloé
?

Your boyfriend is flirting with Mari.

whaaattttt r u crazy
😆 hes not my bf lmao

Then why did you post his picture with a 'heart' caption? 😓

hes my cousin
ethan
y
r u jealous

What, no!

whatevr u say luvr boy

now that shes back
r u gonna man up
n make a move
?
or r u gonna continue 2
b a dumbass

You have blocked this contact. You will not receive any further messages or calls from this number. Tap here to unblock.

Adrien tucks his mobile phone back into his pocket, concentrating on the small helping of mussels on his plate instead.

Now, that his mind is cleared of the doubt, he can finally-

"Excuse me, Mr. Agreste, but can you introduce me to Ms. Dupain-Cheng after dinner? I heard that you were classmates?"

Dragging his reluctant attention to the obviously infatuated gentleman sitting next to him, Adrien feels an irritable mood taking over him.

It's her everywhere. It doesn't matter how much he tries to stay away, somehow, everything always circles back to her.

"I don't think so. You see, Mari and that guy," he points at Ethan, suddenly wanting this guy to feel as miserable as he, "are like this." Adrien's fingers cross, and predictably, the guy looks deflated.

"Do you know when she's going to go back?" The Irritating Guy, who Adrien suddenly remembers as Adam, questions.

"She. . . Is?"

"Yes. She didn't tell you?" Adam is gleeful. "Everyone in the fashion industry knows about it. There is reliable news that she's going to start working on her own brand in LA after this. This show is sort of a beta test."

His world falls apart.

*

Thoughts on this chapter? Loved it? Hated it? Any theories what might have happened between the two of them five years ago? XD

Hoped you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to vote and comment if you did! Thanks for reading. The next chapter is up!!! Check it out!

- Upama ♥