#sorry i don���t wear skirts and wear makeup often i didn’t do that when i thought i was cis either

[frostedpuffs]

A Simple Suggestion - Ch.7

A Simple Suggestion Summary: Breaks from patrol often allow time for Ladybug and Chat Noir to talk and be themselves. But when a silly joke starts to seem all that…well, not silly, the two find themselves considering something neither of them had ever before: moving in together. The tricky part is still keeping their identities a secret. Rated: T+ Pairing(s): Ladybug/Chat Noir, Adrien/Marinette

Chapter 7 - A Proposition Word count: 5,438 Also read on: ao3

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It was a little over a week since he'd visited that Adrien gave her a call.

Scrambling to pick up her phone, the ringtone loud and jarring, Marinette nearly dropped it on the sidewalk before answering with what she hoped was a calm and collected, "Hello?"

Adrien's voice was like a breath of fresh air in her ear. "Marinette! Hey, are you busy tonight?'" he asked, tone cheerful. He sounded excited, and from the staticky noise that came from the background, Marinette could only assume he was outside, much like herself. The wind was blowing leaves down the streets and the clouds rolling above were a dark gray; it was clear that within the next hour a heavy downpour would cover the city.

(So much for patrol later that night.)

Marinette shook her head as she walked down the sidewalk. After a beat of silence she realized her reply had to be vocalized—cell phones, duh—and squinted as a particularly forceful breeze blew strands of black hair into her face. "N-no, not busy. It's Friday, right?"

A noise of affirmation rose from her phone. Adrien laughed as he said, "Yep, it's Friday. I know it's really late notice, but my dad wants to meet you tonight if you're free. Would you be able to come over around, say… Seven o'clock for dinner?"

Seven? That was in four hours. It was a little last moment, but she could work with that.

"Sure, sounds good," Marinette replied. She held her phone between her shoulder and cheek as she forced her skirt down, which insisted on attempting to fly up with the wind. "Should I walk over, or—"

"I'll pick you up," Adrien told her. He said something else, but the wind in the background blocked out whatever words had fallen from his lips. When Marinette asked him to repeat himself, he said, "Wear something nice, if you can. Unfortunately, Father's the type that judges people on their looks."

Marinette frowned at that. She was pretty enough on her own without dressing up. Ah, well. There was no harm in putting on a little more makeup than usual and wearing one of her favorite dresses for a dinner with her favorite designer (and his handsome son.)

"Alright," she said as she entered the bakery through its glass doors, thankful to be indoors and away from the dreadful weather outside. "I'll be ready at seven, then."

An excited hum came from the other end of the line. Marinette had to repress her giggles.

"Great!" Adrien cheered. "I'll see you then, Marinette."

"You too."

Continue reading on ao3 or under the cut! ↓

As they ended the call, Marinette smiled down at her phone. Often in her youth, she would think of Adrien as many things: charming; attractive; a drop of sunshine with the kindest soul. However, one description from Alya back in lycée had stuck with Marinette for years, and each time she thought about it, laughter would bubble from her chest just from the memory alone.

Adrien was like a golden retriever, Alya had said. And lo and behold it remained accurate to this day.

True to the nickname, Adrien was an excitable person with a head of golden hair and a happiness about him that always made him eager to see his friends. When he did get the chance to meet up with them, he'd shower them with platonic affections, even bringing a gift or two if he had the time. And man, when he saw his friends heading his way, especially Nino… He'd run to greet them with arms outstretched for a hug so tight that Marinette was sure he'd suffocated a person or two in his lifetime from his affections.

She missed that part of their relationship. They were close, years ago… Practically best friends at one point—especially when Nino and Alya's relationship had become more serious. They'd spent their days as third and fourth wheels, eventually opting to spend time together with just themselves, bonding over video games or watching movies on her couch at home. She distinctly remembered how Adrien cowered at horror movies, and how he'd hid his face in her shoulder whenever a particularly scary part flashed onto the screen.

Her heart ached from how badly she yearned for their childhood closeness to return. What had happened? Why had she let them drift apart…?

"Miss?" a voice asked, tone curt. "If you wouldn't mind, you're holding up the line."

Flinching in surprise, Marinette turned to see a customer with his hands on his hips, eyebrow cocked impatiently. She blushed in embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she said, shooting an apologetic glance to her mother (who was ringing up another customer at the cash register.)

She had to stop getting distracted in the middle of rooms so often. Retreating upstairs to her bedroom, Marinette set the bag of fabrics she'd purchased before Adrien called on her chaise and plopped down next to them with a huff, legs aching from overuse. She'd been running around too much the past few weeks. It would be nice to finally settle down in her and Chat's apartment when things were situated.

Speaking of Chat Noir… They had a few more details to figure out, didn't they?

Marinette kicked her shoes off as she mentally crossed off the things they'd already covered for their future move-in. They had decided Chat would sign the lease to avoid identity-drama and that she would give him half of the rent each month in cash, as well as setting their personal boundaries. Masks were to be worn at all times, except when they went to their rooms for the night to sleep or during showers, and every week they would take turns with who covered the grocery shopping.

(Although Chat Noir had begged her for them to go together just once since he'd admitted—much to Marinette's surprise—that he'd never been grocery shopping once in his life. The rich little asshole.)

The subject of friends and family visiting had been discussed lightly over a late rooftop dinner during their last meeting. While she and her partner had snacked on sub sandwiches from a local deli, they'd decided that for friends to visit, they needed to give each other plenty of warning so the other could find a place to disappear to for a while. That, or they would stay in their rooms for the period of time the friends were over and pretend to be busy (or napping.)

They were set to check out the place in two days. Marinette would go as her civilian self first, and Chat Noir second to seal the deal.

The excitement caused Marinette's hands to tremble as she slipped off her long socks. This—them moving in together—was really happening, and it was happening soon. Sooner than she had anticipated. Within weeks she would be moved out of her childhood home and into an apartment with her dearest friend, where they would share belongings, watch movies, and share meals. She'd even have Chat Noir tutor her for her science classes since he loved the subject so much.

Of course, they still had to figure out how they would decorate the place and set rules to keep the identities safe. But that was a subject for a later date.

"Are you meeting Adrien tonight, Marinette?" Tikki asked as she emerged from Marinette's purse, breaking her charge out of her reverie. The tiny god settled herself on a pillow as Marinette released her braid and began to brush out the wavy locks.

Nodding in response, Marinette smiled. "Mhm. He's picking me up at seven."

"That's good," Tikki said. "I bet his dad is going to love you."

Marinette played with the lace on her shirt. "I hope so."

"Don't worry!" Tikki said with an enthusiastic little hop. "He's going to adore you, Marinette. I just know it."

Standing from her chaise to check her appearance in her mirror, Marinette titled her head to the side at her reflection, chewing at her bottom lip in consideration. "I'm glad you think so, Tikki. If this plan with Adrien falls through I think both of us will be in a lot of trouble. I am a little nervous, too. I mean, I'll be officially meeting my idol, in his home of all places! We'll be having dinner and—although I have won some of his contests—I really hope he'll like me. I mean, I'm sure he will, and Adrien will be there just in case, but—"

"Don't worry yourself, Marinette," Tikki soothed. She flitted over to prop herself on Marinette's shoulder and began to smooth out a few loose strands in her dark tresses. "You're one of the most likable people in Paris. Besides, you're Ladybug, even without the mask. There's nothing you can't do. Who wouldn't like you? You're adorable!"

Laughing at Tikki's compliments, Marinette gave her a scratch under the chin, enjoying the way her tiny companion lifted her head up to the motion. "You flatter me, Tikki. Now," she said, making her way over to her closet to sift through her assortment of dresses, "I just need to find something to wear."

She'd decided to don one of the dresses she had crafted not too long ago.

It was a pretty black dress with a silky top that was adorned with black lace at the collar, and a skirt that was loose but comfortable, ending a few inches below her knee. Around her waist was a satin sash a few shades lighter than the dress itself. To the right side of her waist, violet flowers were placed pleasantly upon the sash, sewn together with care in every stitch. It was a design Marinette adored, and she recalled the process fondly. It had taken her weeks to complete, especially the flowers; those had been incredibly difficult to shape correctly due to the type of sheer fabric she'd used, but the pain of the production had been far worth it—the dress was one of her favorites to date. Even if it wasn't as complex as some others.

Once she was dressed, Marinette pulled her hair up into a bun, allowing a few loose strands to dangle in front of her ears. On her neck she wore a silver necklace lined with diamonds her grandmother had given her when she was very young, and for her footwear she pulled out her favorite pair of black ankle-strap heels from the back of her closet. She didn't wear them often—those were reserved only for special occasions, and tonight warranted their use.

She finished off the look with mascara and winged eyeliner, as well as a touch of red lipstick. Part of Marinette was sad she couldn't wear a pair of dangling earrings, but removing her Miraculous was something she'd never even dream of doing. No—those earrings stayed in place. They were too precious of an item to lose, much less to think of leaving them at home for a night.

"You look so beautiful, Marinette," Tikki sighed as she rested on her shoulder, gazing at her chosen's reflection fondly. "You've really grown up into a bedazzling lady."

Marinette giggled appreciatively. "Why thank you, Tikki. I think I look nice too."

"Good," Tikki replied. "You should. And you know what?" A teasing grin split Tikki's face as she said, "I think Adrien will, too."

Red flushed to Marinette's cheeks before she had a chance to stop it. She felt embarrassed to blush over a comment like that, especially when her intention for the night was only to seal a fake deal with Adrien and to impress his father. Really, her face had no business getting so hot at the thought of Adrien liking her appearance. She didn't need him to think she was pretty to feel good… She could do that well enough on her own!

(Still, her heart fluttered at the notion.)

Her phone vibrated as Adrien let her know he was outside. She wondered if the cat emojis he'd sent along with the message were truly necessary.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette allowed herself a moment to steady her nerves before she descended from her bedroom, heels quietly clicking against the wood of the stairs. Her parents were closing up the bakery for the night so she had no qualms walking down into the shop, stopping to give them each a hug—a light one, albeit, due to their clothes being covered in flour—before fanning her face in a final attempt to rid the apprehensive bubbles in her stomach.

She had told her parents about her "move-in" with Adrien the day before. They'd been overjoyed, happy to know that their daughter was going to be living with someone they knew and trusted rather than a complete stranger. Marinette felt an overwhelming sense of guilt for lying to them, but… She had to do what she had to to live with her partner.

As she walked out to where Adrien was waiting with an umbrella, she grinned at the compliments and praise towards her appearance her parents shouted out through the doors, hiding her face behind her black clutch as she approached her long-time friend.

Adrien was silent as he walked her to his car—at least, she assumed it was his—umbrella in one hand to shield them from the rain and green irides blown wide. Marinette smiled up at him, feeling a tad awkward under his gaze, and was thankful when he cleared his throat and glanced away with a tint of pink to his cheeks. Oh, he was so cute. His blush only added to that fact.

"Sorry," he apologized with a laugh. "You look really nice, Marinette. You're gorgeous—I mean—! That dress is gorgeous!" His eyes fell to the floor before he shoved a hand in his pocket. "Where did you get it? I don't recognize the brand."

Giving a little twirl, Marinette grinned with pride. "Actually, I made it myself a few months ago. You… You like it?" She twiddled with her fingers in a sort of nervous fashion, awaiting his answer. He looked quite handsome himself, done up with black dress pants and a white long-sleeved shirt with a black vest buttoned over it, complete with matching belt and tie. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, and Marinette had to avert her eyes from his arms before she gawked at the muscles that were hidden underneath his golden skin.

"It's beautiful," he said as he opened the car door for her. It was a black Maserati; a car Marinette would have never imagined touching, much less receiving a chance to ride within one. "You look really great."

"Thanks," she replied with a blush, slipping into the passenger seat. "Is this—" she paused to look at the interior in awe, "your car?"

Adrien shook his head as he sat behind the wheel, tapping the umbrella outside before closing it and tossing it in the backseat. "It's one of my dad's. I have a bike, but figured it was probably a bad idea to drive that tonight, since, you know… The rain."

"And the dress," Marinette added with a grin. "You drive a motorcycle? Why is that so weird for me to think about?"

As Adrien started up the car, he chuckled. "Probably because it's a super rebellious thing my dad hates."

"No shit, really?"

Adrien offered a shrug. Turning on the headlights and windshield wipers, he began to drive down the street, frowning as the rain really began to pour in buckets. "Yeah. I guess it was an impulse thing. He's really overprotective to the point where it's overbearing and didn't even want me driving myself anywhere, ever, so… It was sort of a birthday gift to myself. And an even bigger F-you to my dad."

A loud laugh broke itself free from Marinette's throat and she slapped a hand to her lips the moment the sound rose into the air, feeling everywhere from her shoulders to the tips of her ears redden in embarrassment from the noise she'd made. "Sorry," she said, voice wavering from her giggles, "that's just funny to think about. You went out and bought the most dangerous vehicle just to give him a metaphorical middle finger. It's hilarious."

"Yeah, well," Adrien said with a playful roll of his eyes, glancing down to look at the time once he'd reached a stoplight. "Père and I are always doing crazy stuff like that. It's like we're constantly trying to one-up each other or something."

Marinette's smile curved downwards. Well, that wasn't healthy. No wonder Adrien wanted to get out of his house. "Oh, I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"It's alright," Adrien said. He flashed her a smile as the car began moving again. "I'm getting out of there soon, thanks to you. He's gonna love you, though. Promise."

She hoped so. She really did hope so.

They pulled into the Agreste manor, Marinette watching with wide eyes as the large iron gate opened and closed with their presence. Adrien parked in the garage so they wouldn't get wet, which Marinette was thankful for, even as he insisted on being a gentleman by getting out to open the door for her. She felt her heart skip a beat as he helped her step out of the car with a gentle grasp of her hand.

His skin was warm. Marinette mourned the lost contact the moment he let go.

"I'm a little nervous," she admitted as they entered the foyer. Her heels clicked against the marble flooring with each trembling step, her head swiveling around to take in the sheer size of Adrien's home. "I hope I don't screw anything up. I'm sorry in advance if I say something silly."

That sad portrait of a teenaged Adrien and his father was still hanging above the staircase.

The dimples on Adrien's cheeks showed as he smiled down at her. He was so tall now, practically a whole thirty centimeters above her without the heels. Running a hand through his hair, he told her, "You'll be fine, Mari. I have complete faith in you."

Her cheeks flushed once more. She gazed up at him through her lashes with the intent of saying something of the same nature, but her track of speech was interrupted by his father's assistant.

"Adrien," the woman—Nathalie, was it?—said, tired-looking eyes trained on the tablet in her perfectly manicured hands. "Your father is ready for you and Mme. Dupain-Cheng. He hasn't been waiting long."

Marinette cupped a hand to her elbow. Jeez, why was everyone so formal? Was she supposed to be acting that way?

Adrien patted Marinette on the back in an act of reassurance as he nodded at the woman. "Thanks, Nathalie. We'll be right there."

Once Nathalie left the room, Adrien placed both of his hands on Marinette's shoulders, green gaze blinking down at her with pure appreciation. He squeezed her skin gently with one hand and winked at her, and that was all it took for Marinette to feel like a school-aged girl again with a crush on one of her best friends. She gulped, looking up at him with her teeth anxiously nibbling on her lower lip before remembering that she was wearing lipstick and foregoing her ministrations.

"Remember the plan?" Adrien asked.

Marinette wasn't sure she could remember anything with him looking at her like that.

"Uh," she said, eyes falling towards the floor. "Convince your dad we're really moving in together and that we're just friends so he won't get suspicious."

Adrien's expression turned proud. Bowing towards her with one hand outstretched, he grinned, shooting her a wink for good measure. "After you, your majesty."

The girlish giggle that escaped from her mouth was almost disconcerting.

The dining room was bigger than Marinette had remembered. She'd only been in it a few choice times, like Christmas dinner years ago when she was merely thirteen, and another instance where she, along with Alya and Nino, had secretly stayed the night and ventured down to the kitchen in the middle of the night for snacks—only to be disappointed when all Adrien had to offer was veggie plates and organic cheeses, other than the store of Camembert he hid away in his room.

She still didn't understand that.

As Marinette's gaze landed on Gabriel's, her shoulders stiffened, back straightening out of impulse to appear as proper as she could. Her fingers gripped at her clutch, the pads of her skin leaving indents in the leather. Adrien's arm brushed against her back as he came up from behind her and Marinette nearly jumped out of her own skin. Goodness, if she went the whole night feeling this on edge she'd be sweating herself out of her dress in no time!

"Relax," Adrien whispered into her ear. He placed his hands on her shoulders to give them a gentle push down. "You're standing like a beanpole. Don't worry so much—you'll do just fine."

His reassuring smile was all she needed to will her muscles to lose their stiffness.

Adrien pulled out a chair for her at the long mahogany table. Marinette took his offer to sit gladly, smoothing out the wrinkles in the skirt of her dress once she was comfortable.

"Father, this is Marinette," Adrien began, sitting next to her with a kind grin. "I'm sure you recognize her."

After taking a sip of his wine and regarding her with an unwavering stare, Gabriel nodded. "Of course. It's nice to formally meet you, Mme. Dupain-Cheng."

"Nice—" Marinette cleared her throat, doing her best not to flush at how high-pitched her voice had sounded. God, her nerves were skyrocketing. She feared that the silverware would jump right out of her hands from how much they were shaking. "N-nice to meet you too, M. Agreste. I'm a big fan of your work."

Gabriel didn't smile at that. Instead, he nodded. "Yes, my work does inspire many a fan. I'm glad to hear that."

Adrien's expression turned flat. Marinette almost laughed at how quickly his face had soured.

When one of their personal chefs came to ask for their dinner request, Gabriel ordered a chicken dish for them all. Marinette didn't mind; the arrange of poultry and vegetables sounded great. Anything that would ease the quiet rumbling of her stomach would do wonders for both her hunger and her nerves.

The conversation was awkward as they waited for the food to arrive. Marinette's hands were trembling so fiercely under the table that Adrien enveloped them with one of his own, giving her knuckles a delicate squeeze that sent a surge of warmth to rush through her veins.

"So," Gabriel said, effectively breaking the silence. "Let's just get straight to the point: you two are moving in together."

Marinette almost choked on her own spit. Her leg began to jiggle on the floor. Dang, no small-talk, no polite inquiries, just immediately to what she'd come over for. Gabriel certainly wasn't a man who stalled.

Adrien nodded with an affirming sound. "Yes, Père. We're really looking forward to it. Right, Mari?"

Baffled by the way Adrien lied with such ease, Marinette breathed out slowly, attempting to calm herself before she became overworked with anxieties. Fuck, this was worse than a final exam. She felt like she was at a job interview to be deemed as a reasonable friend of his son.

Swallowing around the brittle lump in her throat, Marinette grinned perhaps a tad too wide to be realistic, mimicking Adrien's nod a bit more forcefully. She relaxed slightly when Adrien squeezed her hands again. "Oh, yes! We've been talking about it for weeks—months—a-and are so- so excited to finally be able to move out of our homes, haha..."

"I see." Taking a long sip of his wine, Gabriel placed the glass back on the table with a soft clink. "So, you've been thinking about this for months, then?"

Adrien gave a forced smile. "O-of course! It's been on our mind for the longest time, and we finally decided that you know, we're ready to make it official…"

Gabriel's expression hadn't changed all night, except for the brief cock of his brow. "Roommates, hm? That is what you're ready to make official?"

He wasn't buying it. Marinette instantly picked that up. Although the man was as stoic as a block of stone, the vibe he was giving off was intense suspicion, and Marinette felt like if he didn't let up soon, she was going to break.

"Are you sure you two aren't…" The older man paused as he rolled the wine in his glass, watching the red liquid swish around in the bowl. "...More than just roommates? If you are, there's no reason to hide it. Unless you're afraid I may disapprove, in which I'd only disapprove if you're actively trying to hide it from me." He adjusted his glasses once more, eyes like ice as he gazed into Marinette's fucking soul. "I don't have a reason to disapprove of your relationship, do I?"

That was it.

"Adrien!" Marinette exclaimed, scooting out her chair so forcefully that it screeched as she almost toppled backwards. "I have to go to the bathroom can you please show me where it is rightnowthanks!"

He didn't have a chance to reply before she grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the dining room.

"Marinette!" Adrien hissed in a whisper, stumbling over his own feet as she pulled him into the foyer and down a dimly lit hallway. "Where are you going?"

Halting in front of a door to what she assumed was to a bathroom, Marinette released his arm and pressed her palms against her head, two seconds away from a Mental Breakdown™. "He thinks we're dating!" she wheezed, pulling at the loose strands of hair that hung in front of her ears. "He totally thinks we're dating. He knows this is a ploy. Are we fucked? I feel like we're fucked."

"Woah, woah," Adrien said, eyes blown wide as he held up his hands in an attempt to calm her nerves. "It's alright, Marinette. We'll figure something out."

"Is he one of those weirdly protective parents that disapproves of people living together before marriage?" Marinette asked, feeling a wave of panic washing over her. Their plan was going to fail! "Is he going to make us get married? Because I don't know if I'm ready for that type of commitment-"

"No! No," Adrien croaked, shoulders hunching as he averted her gaze. "No marriage. But… It's taken a lot of convincing to get him to think we're just friends, and I still don't think he believes me. He's starting to get suspicious. If he knows we're lying, I..." He dragged his hands down his face, musing his hair completely, voice quiet as his expression morphed into one of utter defeat. "I don't know. This was a dumb idea in the first place. I'm so sorry I dragged you into this, I... Do you want me to take you home?"

Marinette frowned at the way his back slumped self-consciously, her heart wrenching at the thought of leaving him there to figure the situation out by himself. "Adrien, no, it's okay. We can still do this. We just need a better plan."

What that plan was, well… Marinette had no idea. Whatever they were going to do, they had to do it fast—they couldn't stay in the "bathroom" all night, after all.

Hand reaching back at his nape, Adrien met her eyes with a somewhat pained knit of his brow. Marinette wanted to reach out and hug him and let him know that everything was going to be just fine. They could pull through this. She wasn't the type to give up so easily.

With an awkward shuffling of his feet, Adrien glanced back at the hallway. No doubt his father was wondering where they'd run off to. If they were gone any longer he might assume they'd just up and left, which would soil their plan completely, but Marinette wouldn't allow that. Both she and Adrien were on a mission and she wasn't leaving until they'd accomplished it.

Adrien was silent for a while. As he scratched at his neck in thought, Marinette opened her mouth to speak, to say anything—but her words were cut short when her friend's eyes brightened, lips parted as an idea visibly struck his mind.

Clearing his throat, Adrien stood up straight, one hand messing with the knot on his tie. "So, he thinks we're dating, right?" he asked, causing Marinette to cock her head to the side. "Okay, this is going to sound weird, but hear me out: what if we were?"

Marinette broke into a coughing fit.

Air refused to pass to her lungs, getting caught somewhere in her throat. Adrien's expression morphed to one of panic and he gave a couple taps to her back, attempting to help her clear her airway of whatever was blocking it, his voice ringing in her ears as he asked over and over again whether or not she was okay.

She had died, but that was beside the point.

"Adrien—" she rasped, finally having composed herself. "I'm flattered, really, but shouldn't we hang out a little more before we decide to take a step like that? I-I mean, not that I'd be opposed to dating you, but-"

"I didn't finish," Adrien said, rubbing slow circles on her back as she regulated her breathing. "Not for real dating, just like… Pretend. To convince my dad that he can trust us to move in together. If he thinks we're lying about our relationship, then he won't trust that we're actually living together. He'll think we're hiding something from him."

"But we would be lying about our relationship!" Marinette exclaimed, cupping a hand over her mouth at how her voice echoed in the hallway. "I don't know, Adrien. I hate to lie more than I already am, and this whole thing is kind of turning into a huge mess."

She knew from the start that it was going to be messy, but… It was all sort of spiraling out of control at this point.

Weighing the pros and cons of having a fake relationship with Adrien in her head, Marinette gnawed at her bottom lip, foot tapping on the ground as her mind reeled with information. On one hand, pretending to be dating Adrien would make the situation with his father blow over easily, and possibly even get him to trust her more than he would as just Adrien's friend. She would be able to spend more time with Adrien if they had to pretend to be dating, which was a plus. It would give them an excuse to get to know themselves again after their five-month absence from each other's life.

However…

If she and Adrien were "in a relationship," telling her friends and family out of nowhere would make them go nuts. Especially Alya. Alya of all people knew that she and Adrien were nothing more than friends, so the ruse wouldn't trick her in the slightest. Her parents, on the other hand, would be saddened to hear that she had been hiding a secret "boyfriend" for a while without ever mentioning him, and was suddenly moving in with him without so much as a mention of her relationship.

But… Who said they had to lie to anyone other than Gabriel? Alya would understand if she told her the truth. All of their friends knew Gabe was a complete asshat. And she didn't even need to mention the whole relationship thing to her Maman or Papa; they were happy just knowing their daughter was moving in with a friend they could trust.

"Actually…" Marinette said after a moment, eyes rising from the floor to meet the irides of her friend. "You know what? That might just work."

As Adrien bit into his knuckle in consideration, the sneaky grin that split his face was one Marinette found eerily familiar. "Alright," he said before he let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Alright. Let's do this. Here." Grabbing her hand, Adrien smiled, white teeth shining in the low light of the hallway. "Let's walk back like this, okay? We've been gone for a while, so we'd better head back before dad has an aneurysm."

"It's been six minutes," Marinette laughed as they walked back into the foyer. She tried to ignore the way her heart was beating a tattoo into her chest from how hard it thumped against it. "So, um, what do we say?"

Adrien leaned in to whisper in her ear once they'd made it to the dining room. "Just follow my lead."

[mistleto-3]

First Dance

Yuuri is caught off guard by the revelation that a member of the wedding party she’s in could quite possibly be an angel. (Strangers meeting at a wedding AU, Cisswap, fem!Viktuuri)

Pairing: fem!Victor/fem!Yuuri (Side Chris/Masumi)

8,020 words. Rating: T. Content warnings: Cisswap/genderbend, depictions of anxiety. Demisexual!Yuuri.

Submission for @yoi-shit-bang 2017, paired with the lovely @soulztheyoshi whose wonderful artwork is here!

Thank you to @pope-of-the-snail-church for the “strangers meeting at a wedding” prompt from this list

AO3 | Ko-fi

An angel had just walked into the dressing room.

She was tall and slender, and moved with graceful confidence that seemed to exude a sort of magnetism, a gravitational pull. Yuuri looked over at the sound of the door opening, and found she couldn't look away.

The woman who had just entered looked like she was sculpted from marble. High, proud cheekbones; straight nose; willowy figure, like a gymnast or a dancer; perfect eyebrows; sharp jawline; smooth, flawless skin; shock blue eyes, and waist-length silver hair tied into a messy knot at the nape of her neck. She wouldn’t have looked out of place amongst the seraphs in some renaissance-era painting, or amongst the models in a magazine. Yuuri almost found herself searching for a halo atop her head.

Her first thought was that she was probably dreaming- people this pretty didn’t exist outside of airbrushed cover shoots. The thought was accompanied by a stab of anxiety that she’d overslept, and would be late for the wedding. Which would make her a pretty terrible groom’s-maid. But the sharp tug of the hairstylist pulling the curling iron through her hair put a stop to that worry.

So if she wasn’t asleep, then the angel must have been in the wrong room. Yuuri didn’t recognise her, and she supposed by the morning of the ceremony, she likely should have met every member of the wedding party.

But once again, her attempt to explain the appearance of the ethereal woman was thwarted, this time by the makeup artist, who looked up from where she was working on Masumi’s sister.

“You must be Victoria?” she asked.

The stranger smiled, and Yuuri thought her heart might stop. “Sorry I’m late. My flight got delayed last night; I didn’t get to the hotel until 3am. I must have overslept.”

“It’s alright. There’s plenty of time,” the makeup artist reassured her.

Victoria. Yuuri vaguely recognised the name- Masumi had mentioned her once briefly- Chris’ best man, or best woman, Yuuri supposed. But he’d failed to mention that Victoria was stunning in a sort of inhuman way that made Yuuri incredibly anxious just to breathe the same air as her.

If anything, the gravity of this woman only seemed to have gotten stronger since she'd entered the room, and as Victoria took a seat, Yuuri realised she hadn't been able to tear her gaze away since she'd entered. She was painfully aware of how completely conspicuous her staring was, but she physically couldn’t help herself. Without noticing, she’d committed herself to memorising every inch of Victoria’s face; the curve of the cupid’s bow of her lip, the shape of her nose, the curl of her eyelashes...

It's far too early in the morning for this, Yuuri thought.

Especially seeing as Victoria was gorgeous in that sort of sleepy, just-woken-up sort of way. Clearly fresh from the shower- the tips of her hair were still slightly damp, and there was a peaceful drowsiness in her half-lidded eyes, as though she wasn’t quite awake yet. She had a coffee cup in her hand, and she was wearing an oversized tank top and jogging bottoms. Her shoelaces were untied.

But it was more endearing than anything else, and to Yuuri, it only made her seem more beautiful.

Yuuri never quite summoned the courage to speak to Victoria as they got ready; she was whisked away by the hairdresser before she had a chance to introduce herself to Yuuri and the other groom's-maid, Masumi's sister. In a way, Yuuri was relieved. As much as she couldn't stop staring at the beautiful woman, she had no idea if she'd be able to summon much more than a stutter if she actually had to speak to her. So she was thankful that the opportunity to chat never arose, thanks to the hair dresser, who kept Victoria on the other side of the room for most of the morning, spending the better part of an hour curling the waterfall of silver hair that tumbled down her back. And the makeup artist setting to work on Yuuri's eyeshadow provided a blissful respite from having to stare at the agonisingly beautiful woman across the room- if anything could get her to drag her gaze away, it was the threat of being poked in the eye with an eyeliner pen.

The final step was donning the dresses, which was the part Yuuri had been looking forward to the most since the dress fitting. But she hadn't anticipated having to change in front of... well, Victoria. The prospect of getting down to her underwear in front of her was daunting to say the least, and she was hyper-aware of every curve and every stretch mark on her skin as she changed out of her scruffy t-shirt and jeans and into her gown. Having spent so much of the morning looking at Victoria (beautiful, tall, skinny, built-like-a-supermodel Victoria) she couldn't help but wince at the sight of the extra padding around her own tummy and thighs as she undressed. She waited until Victoria was having her eyeshadow done to finally change, hoping her eyes would be closed for the duration of Yuuri's nudity, and she held her breath until she was safely zipped into the garment.

Her dress was cut from shimmery blue fabric, with an illusion neckline of sheer, dark fabric. The bodice was sequined and fit snugly to her body, until the dress flared out beneath the black sash at the waist to fall loosely to her mid-thigh. The skirt was dyed in a gradient, from the sky blue of the bodice, fading through royal blue and navy to black at the hemline. Even though it was perhaps a little short for Yuuri's taste, she had to admit the gown was beautiful. Yuuri wasn't the sort of girl who could resist picking out faults in her own reflection, but even she had to admit she looked at least a little bit pretty; the cut of the dress was flattering on the curves around her waist and tummy, and the way her hair had been curled and her eyes had been lined with shimmering blue shadow that matched her gown... it was certainly a confidence boost, especially as Yuuri didn't often get the chance to get dressed up like this.

Masumi's sister interrupted her musings asking to be zipped up, and then she and Yuuri donned their final accessories and headed from the room. Once again, she found herself relieved, this time because she was ready before Victoria, and got to escape the dressing room before she had to see her completely dressed up; if the makeup artist and hairdresser had managed to make Yuuri think she looked pretty, she couldn't imagine how Victoria would look... At the very least, it would shatter the flimsy self-esteem Yuuri had managed to cobble together at the sight of her reflection that morning.

Not to mention seeing Victoria in her underwear as she got changed. Not that Yuuri was opposed to seeing someone who looked like her semi-naked, but she sort of feared she would forget how to breathe. She'd already done that once today, when Victoria had first entered the room, and she decided she needed more time to prepare herself mentally before she saw her all dressed up. Let alone in her underwear.

But as the start of the ceremony drew nearer, Yuuri began to fear she still wasn't quite prepared for Victoria's arrival. As she stood with the groom outside the chapel, she found herself glancing around anxiously, waiting for the car carrying the other groom and his best woman. Even just the prospect of seeing Victoria again made her heart feel like it had risen into her throat. So she did her best to keep her eyes averted from the road, and keep her focus on her friend, who deserved it much more. After all, it was his wedding day.

When the rumble of the limousine carrying the other groom came to a halt outside, Yuuri turned away from the window so she wouldn't have to watch Victoria enter the building, to give herself a few more minutes to prepare herself. She couldn't help but feel somewhat ridiculous for acting this way- she'd never even spoken to Victoria, but she was acting like a love-struck high-schooler with an embarrassing crush on an upperclassman. Especially when this was Masumi's day, and she worried her distraction was affecting her ability to carry out the duties of a groom's-maid, whatever those might be. She wasn't entirely sure, but calming his pre-wedding jitters seemed like a safe bet. But doing that was made very difficult by the fact she couldn't keep her mind off Victoria...

Yuuri was snapped from her thoughts by the door opening, and they were beckoned through.

She and the other groom's-maid picked up their bouquets and followed Masumi down the aisle, and her worries about Victoria were quashed by the more immediate fear of tripping over her high heels as they marched slowly through the church towards the altar. The only thing that dampened Yuuri's anxiety was the knowledge that everyone was looking at the groom, and not at her. She kept her eyes on the carpet and her focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and blissfully, made it to the end of the aisle still standing, immensely grateful that Victoria would enter after her and she hadn't had to cross the room looking at her.

And then the music picked up once more, the violins building to a crescendo as Masumi fiddled nervously with his cuff-links. And then the doors opened again, and Chris entered the room, dressed smartly in a tuxedo that matched his husband-to-be's, with his mother on his arm.

And behind him walked Victoria. A wide grin curled the corners of her lips, tinted rouge with lipstick. Her dress was identical to Yuuri's, but in pink, and her hair had been pulled back into a ponytail behind her head, secured in place by floral pins that matched the bouquet in her hands. Her long, slender legs and the sway of her hips were exaggerated by the black stilettos she wore and the way the short skirt of her dress moved as she walked. Her makeup only underlined the beauty of each feature of her face- her eyeshadow and mascara framed those cyan eyes; her blush and highlight picked out her sculpted cheekbones; her lipstick emphasised the unique shape of her lips- a small bump in the centre of her upper lip almost made her mouth look heart-shaped when she opened it to grin at the guests.

Yuuri had forgotten how to breathe again. For the duration of Victoria's walk up the aisle, she couldn't force her ribcage to expand. She hadn't known what breath-taking meant before now- she'd thought it was a metaphor, or a figure of speech, but apparently, it was more than that, because Yuuri was dizzy from lack of oxygen by the time Victoria and Chris reached the altar.

Yuuri barely heard a word of the ceremony; the officiator’s voice sounded as though it was coming from underwater. All she could do was try not to stare too hard at Victoria. That, and pretend she hadn't just had a stray thought about Victoria walking up the aisle towards in a different context. Which she chided herself, was a terrifically creepy thing to think about someone she hadn’t even spoken to. Apparently, meeting this girl was messing with her head.

The ceremony passed in an oddly dream-like manner, and before Yuuri was really aware of it, the grooms were kissing, and then the wedding party was heading back down the aisle the way it came. She was relieved she didn’t really have too big a part in the ceremony itself- she certainly would have made a pig’s ear of it distracted by the best woman’s presence.

When they arrived at the reception venue, Yuuri had been hoping that once she’d had a chance to get used to the sight of Victoria, she might regain possession of her faculties, but if anything the opposite seemed to be happening. No matter how many times Yuuri glanced over in her direction, the itching, irresistible urge to just take another sneaky look at her face only grew stronger, like a hunger clawing in the pit of her stomach. Every stolen peek in her direction took Yuuri’s breath away all over again. Even as the speeches were made and the food was served and an hour passed, and then another, Yuuri still couldn’t even attempt to grasp for any semblance of self-control. Her sense of shame appeared to have taken the day off- as mortified as she was by the way she was acting, her embarrassment felt distant, muffled, as though it had been shoved away into a corner by the (rather substantial) part of herself that didn’t want to stop looking at Victoria, to be dealt with later. And certainly it would be- Yuuri could feel her embarrassment mounting my the second, dulled only by the champagne that she was sipping far faster than she had intended. When she was finally alone later that night, Yuuri had a feeling all her suppressed mortification would come bursting from its hiding place and hit her all at once- she was an emotional drunk, so it was bound to get ugly. She just hoped she'd manage to make it back to her room before the weepiness commenced.

By the time the reception was in full swing, Yuuri was starting to get a little overwhelmed. Victoria was… magnetic, and as a result, Yuuri's inebriation was mounting exponentially; she kept taking sips of champagne as a way of dragging her eyes off Victoria for a second, and she had lost count of how many times she'd drained her glass. It didn't have the desired effect, though. If anything, her internal monologue had only gotten sappier, and she was endlessly grateful for the layer of full-coverage foundation the makeup artist had applied that morning, because she could feel her cheeks warming quite substantially every time she looked over in the other woman’s direction. The knowledge that at least her blushing wasn’t visible provided a little comfort. Even if her constant glances in Victoria’s direction were still rather conspicuous. She was surprised that Victoria hadn't noticed and started giving her dirty looks for being so creepy.

And as though to sprinkle salt in the wound, being hyperaware of her own eye movements meant Yuuri was beginning to notice the ache behind her eyelids from where her contact lenses sat. She wasn’t really used to wearing them (having forgotten to heed the optometrist’s advice to work her way up to having them in all day) and they were beginning to irritate her, until she was itching to take them out. With a sigh, she got to her feet and excused herself to the bathroom, then leaned over the sink to remove the blasted things. In a way, it was sort of a blessing to have an excuse to get out of eyeshot of Victoria; perhaps a few minutes respite would give her pulse a chance to steady itself. She half-wished she’d forgotten to bring her glasses so she could return to the main room with blurry vision and stop having to look at her irritatingly gorgeous counterpart, but alas, there they were in her handbag.

But as was Yuuri’s luck, just as she set about fixing her makeup where her eyes had watered as she removed her lenses, none other than Victoria entered the room, speaking on the phone in a language Yuuri couldn’t understand. She was talking in an animated, high-pitched tone, the way a mother might talk to an infant, and there was a serene smile on her face.

Yuuri was relieved she hadn’t had a chance to put on her glasses yet. Not that she didn’t like looking at Victoria- she very much did, but therein lay the problem. She liked looking at her more than anyone she’d ever looked at before. She liked looking at her so much it made her nervous. Nervous that Victoria would notice her staring, nervous that she wanted desperately even to make small talk with her, but her tongue felt cumbersome in her mouth and she couldn’t summon even one coherent word she might say to her. The prospect of embarrassing herself, or doing something to make Victoria dislike her, was enough to fill Yuuri’s ribcage with writhing anxiety.

She tried her best to focus on her makeup- keeping her eyes on the mirror meant they couldn’t wander back over to Victoria- which worked until she hung up the phone and began speaking in English once more, clearly addressing Yuuri, as she was the only other person in the bathroom.

“What a beautiful ceremony, don’t you think?”

Yuuri attempted a convincing smile, despite the fact she’d about had a heart attack and barely even remembered the ceremony because she'd been too busy looking at Victoria. “It really was,” she agreed.

“I would complement the way you look, but we’re essentially wearing the same outfit…”

Yuuri chuckled at the joke, but her own voice sounded distant, muffled through the daze she'd fallen into at being complimented by Victoria. She was suddenly very grateful for the amount of alcohol she'd drunk; if she was sober, she'd never have been able to get more than a syllable past her lips without stuttering and crumbling to pieces. In the mirror she caught a glimpse of the redness in her cheeks showing through her makeup, even at such a mild comment.

Victoria, blissfully, hadn’t noticed. She was rooting through her handbag with a crease forming between her eyebrows.

“Y-you alright?”

“I seem to have misplaced my lipstick… You wouldn’t happen to have one I could borrow, would you?”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly, fearing any attempt at speech would simply come out as an incoherent squeak, and with a trembling hand she fished her lipstick out of her bag and handed it to Victoria, unable to think about anything except the indirect kiss they shared as Victoria applied the tint to her pouting lips. Yuuri's heartbeat was hammering so quickly that she feared the stress of it would crack right through her ribs. She had to scramble for something to think about, something to say, to take her mind off her lipstick on Victoria’s lips. She wanted to flee the room, the building if she could, but Victoria still had her lipstick.

“….S-so where are you from? Y-your accent didn’t sound Swedish like Chris’…”

“No, you’re right. I’m from Russia,” Victoria explained with a smile, and the sound of her voice made Yuuri feel lightheaded.

The snap of Victoria clicking the cap back onto the tube of lipstick almost made Yuuri jump, and her hands shook as Victoria pressed it back into her hand.

“You must be my guardian angel,” Victoria announced, admiring the lip colour with a pout in the mirror. “Here, let me get you a drink as a thank you.”

Yuuri’s instant response was to deny her, too afraid to be in her immediate vicinity for that long, but the words simply wouldn’t come when she summoned them, and then Victoria had seized her elbow and was leading her from the room and it was too late. The touch of her hand send tingles of static across Yuuri’s skin, and for a second the air in her lungs turned to gelatin, for what must have been the dozenth time that day.

The moments between them leaving to the bathroom, getting to the bar and ordering the drinks, and returning to their seats where Victoria finally released Yuuri’s arm, passed in a sort of dream-like haze, punctuated by epiphanies about why certain romantic clichés were so popular: they were actually real things that happened to people. Dry mouth, time ceasing to hold any meaning, the world taking on a slightly rose-coloured tinge? Check, check, check. Yuuri had always thought they were made up. Pretty-sounding metaphors from fairy tales.

To Yuuri’s… dismay? Anxiety? Excitement? (She wasn’t totally sure how she felt anymore), Victoria sat down in the seat beside Yuuri’s, which meant she had to muster the mental fortitude to make small-talk with her, when the last thing Yuuri wanted right now was to make small talk. She had no idea what to say, and even if she did, there was a substantial question mark hanging over whether or not she had the ability to actually force the words out.

Thankfully, Victoria took out her phone as she sat down, pouting up at the screen as she took a few photographs of herself, her makeup freshly touched-up, which gave Yuuri a moment to gather herself. Yuuri once again feared for the health of her heart when Victoria leaned in closer to her to take a picture of the both of them side by side, and she just about managed to force a shy smile for the photo.

When Victoria lowered the phone to flick through the selfies she’d taken, Yuuri had finally just about come up with something to say to her, the idea prompted by the phone in her hand.

“S-so, who were you talking to earlier? Sounded like you were talking to a kid… your son or daughter?”

Victoria chuckled at the suggestion. “No, no, I’m not a mother.”

“O-oh, sorry...”

“No, no, I can see why you'd think that.” A slightly abashed look crossed her face. “Actually I was talking to my dog... My sister is dog-sitting for me, and I asked her to put me on speaker so he could hear me.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile at how adorable that was, but she perked up at the mention of the pet. “You have a dog? What’s his name?” Yuuri asked, grasping hold of the subject- dogs were one thing she knew she could talk about. But quietly, a part of her was relieved that Victoria wasn’t married and didn’t have any children or anything like that. Not that Yuuri thought her chances with this girl were anything more than astronomically low, but it perked her up a bit.

“Makkachin. He’s a poodle, nine years old,” Victoria replied with a smile.

“No way, I have a poodle too!”

A genuine grin lit up Victoria’s face, and it made Yuuri’s chest feel funny. “What a coincidence. What are they called?”

“Vicchan. He’s only two, still a baby really.”

“That’s so sweet. Do you have any pictures?”

Yuuri nodded eagerly and pulled out her phone, searching through her gallery for pictures of her dog, as Victoria did the same. They spent a few minutes gushing over the photographs, and the little squeaks and “aww”s issuing from Victoria at the pictures of Vicchan as a puppy made Yuuri’s chest feel funny. As Victoria swiped through the folder of photos of her own dog, she came across a selfie that had evidently been saved into the wrong folder- a simple picture of Victoria in a summer dress with a flower crown filter- and Yuuri felt herself blushing all over again. She scrambled for something to say to Victoria to take her mind off how heart-stoppingly beautiful she was.

“S-so how do you and Chris know each other, if you’re from Russia and he’s from Sweden?”

“Ah, I spent a year of my degree studying in Sweden; Chris and I were on the same course. We got totally wasted together my first night in town and we’ve been best friends ever since.” She chuckled. “I think there was some sort of gay magnetism that drew us together; everyone else in our course was straight, to my knowledge.”

Yuuri chuckled, but internally, her freak-out was beginning to build to critical levels. The revelation that Victoria was gay was almost too much. If she was into girls, maybe Yuuri had a chance. Of course, not really, because even if Victoria was into girls, she was still out of Yuuri’s league. But the knowledge that a slender chance existed was already sort of torturing Yuuri.

“So how do you and Masumi know each other?” Victoria asked, and Yuuri was grateful for the subject change- telling the story would give her something else to think about. Even if she was terrified of tripping over her words.

“He’s half-Japanese and half-Swedish; his father is a businessman and he travelled back and forth to Japan a lot. They stayed in Yu-topia all the time- the hot spring hotel that my parents own- and we were around the same age so we hung out together.”

“Your family owns a hot spring? I’ve always wanted to visit one…” The enthusiasm in Victoria’s voice made Yuuri’s chest tighten, and she had to force the rest of the story out of her mouth.

“They do. It’s lovely there, I think that’s why Masumi’s father stayed there so much; it’s the only one left in the town now. I was close with Masumi as a little kid, but not so much when we grew up; he started spending more time in Sweden, and I went to study in America, but we kept in touch online from time to time. I was sort of surprised he asked me to be his… groom’s-maid, I guess.”

“Well, you make an excellent groom’s-maid; you look beautiful.”

“T-thank you…” Yuuri could feel her cheeks heating up once more. “N-not as beautiful as you, though…” The second half of the sentence slipped out almost without her meaning to, and she was immediately embarrassed to have said it. Her gaze dropped.

Victoria tilted her head. “You don’t think you’re pretty?”

The genuine confusion in her eyes made Yuuri almost feel guilty for having said it. She tried her best not to be too self-deprecating as she said: “W-well, compared to you… You look like a supermodel, and I’m…” She poked the extra stuffing around her midriff.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty. Curvy is cute.”

Yuuri felt her throat close at the compliment, and she could muster no more than a smile in response. She could feel her cheeks burning, and she was almost certain it was showing through her makeup.

Thankfully, Victoria seemed to have noticed she’d hit a sore spot, and changed the subject. “So, have you been to many weddings before?”

Yuuri had to swallow a few times before she regained the ability to speak. “Just one…”

Judging by the way Victoria’s brows furrowed, the sourness that rose in the back of Yuuri’s mouth at the mention of the last wedding she’d been to had seeped into her voice.

“Did something happen?”

“N-not really… The only other wedding I went to was my childhood best friend Yuuko’s wedding. I was her maid of honour, and she was really pregnant… which kind of sucks when you’ve been nursing a crush on her for years but never said anything...”

Victoria offered Yuuri a sympathetic smile and rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

“It was a while ago, and I’m over her now, but being at a wedding when you’re single is…”

“Rubbing salt in the wound?” Victoria suggested. “I know what you mean; it’s a little bit depressing watching the happy couple. But I know what will cheer you up.” She got to her feet and offered Yuuri her hand. “If we have nobody to dance with, let’s dance together.”

It took Yuuri a moment to process what had been said, and she almost felt as though she and Victoria were in a bubble- the rest of the room felt distant, and the voices and music were indistinct, as though she was hearing them through a pane of glass. The offer had dazed her, almost like a blow to the head. With great effort she forced her hand to stop shaking long enough to take Victoria’s, and as she stood up, she picked up her glass of champagne and downed the remainder of its contents in the hope it would steady her. She felt as though she was gliding as she got to her feet and crossed the room towards the dance floor; she couldn’t feel the floor beneath her shoes.

The music playing was upbeat, and Victoria immediately seemed to sink into it. Her eyes slid closed as she felt the rhythm of the song and raised her arms in the air, bouncing on the tips of her toes. Her dancing wasn’t exactly graceful, and she didn’t appear to have much of a talent for it, but she seemed to exude confidence, and the grin on her lips made Yuuri’s heart stutter. Once again she found herself drawn in by Victoria’s magnetism, hypnotised by it, and the next thing she knew she was dancing alongside her. Yuuri wasn’t much of a dancer either, but there was something about the carefree joy on Victoria’s face that was infectious, and the champagne she’d drunk was beginning to go to her head. The coloured lights spinning across the floor and the brilliance of Victoria’s smile and the way the beat of the music shook the air in Yuuri’s lungs were the only thing that pierced the fog of champagne clouding in her skull- it was only now she was on her feet that she realised how much she’d drunk. Sitting next to Victoria, she’d been nursing her champagne almost constantly in an attempt to steady her shaking hands, and now the room seemed to be turning along with the patterns the disco lights were tracing on the dance floor.

So she danced- Yuuri was sure that if she stood still she would fall over, so she did the only thing she could think of and bounced in time with the music. Victoria’s fingers were still twined with her own, and their bodies were barely inches apart. They were so close that she could smell Victoria’s perfume, could have counted the faint freckles on her nose. Up close like this, it was impossible not to notice her eyes- they had opened again, and Yuuri felt like they were staring straight through her. Brilliant, ice blue, the colour of the sky the first thing in the morning, framed by a fan of long, dark lashes. A little of her mascara had smudged onto her lower eyelid, but somehow it only made her look cuter.

As Yuuri lost herself in dancing with Victoria, she felt the waves of anxiety that had been lapping at the inside of her ribcage beginning to subside. The nausea faded, and her heart was pounding with exertion rather than anxiousness. She wasn’t sure if that was because the copious amounts of alcohol she’d drunk had caught up with her, or if it was because Victoria seemed… human. She was still angelic, but her hair was coming loose from its ponytail and her curls had fallen out, a bead of sweat had formed on her brow, she was flushed and panting from the exertion of jumping along to the beat, and there was still that smudge of black makeup on her lash line. She was still beautiful, still completely enchantingly ethereal in an almost soul-crushing way, but she was human. Her thighs jiggled a little as she jumped. Between songs, she kicked off her stilettos and tossed them back over to where they’d been sitting earlier, and then she and Yuuri were the same height (admittedly, Yuuri was still wearing her heels, but still.) They were eye-to-eye, and Yuuri was struck all over again by how gorgeous she was, but not in an unattainable, Greek goddess sort of way. She was a beautiful girl, dancing at a wedding. Dancing with Yuuri. There was almost no space between them, and suddenly Yuuri found she’d forgotten how to breathe, for… she’d lost count of how many times Victoria had made her breathless that night. Their fingers were still interlinked, and the touch of her soft skin had sent a constant stream of static tingling up Yuuri’s nerves ever since Victoria had first taken her hand.

Then, the next song started playing, this one slower. A ballad. Around them, Yuuri could see other people on the dance floor beginning to couple up, and the anxiety she’d thought was subsiding suddenly reared back into the forefront of her conscience. She looked back at Victoria and found her stepping closer to Yuuri, taking her hand once more, drawing her in close. Yuuri’s breath froze in her lungs as Victoria’s arm wound gently around her waist.

“May I have this dance?”

Yuuri couldn’t nod fast enough, consumed by Victoria’s presence. They were close enough to one another that their bodies were pressed softly together, and Yuuri was terrified Victoria would feel her heartbeat thundering against the inside of her ribs. They spun slowly in time with the song, and Yuuri could feel her cheeks burning as Victoria locked eyes with her, staring at her with a faint smile playing on her lips that made Yuuri feel as though she was about to pass out. Yes, Victoria seemed a little more human to her now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still ten levels out of Yuuri’s league, and Yuuri couldn’t quite believe she hadn’t fallen asleep at the table and this wasn’t all some champagne-fuelled hangover dream. The rest of the room had faded away; Yuuri couldn’t even hear the music anymore. All the space in her head was consumed with the smile on Victoria’s face, and the paralysing fear of stepping on her bare toes.

But she never did- seeming to sense her nervousness (though the way Yuuri was trembling didn’t give it away), Victoria took the lead, guiding her anxious partner across the dance floor, the fond smile on her face never faltering. And as much as Yuuri refused to believe this was happening, she would be damned if she didn’t savour every second of it, so she spent the song trying to plaster this sight onto her memory. The way Victoria’s slender arm felt around her waist, the tenderness of the look in her eyes, the way the coloured lights danced across her face, the warmth of her soft skin, the faint tint on her lips where she wore Yuuri’s lipstick…

Yuuri wasn’t quite sure what happened after that. One second, she had been staring at Victoria’s lips as the music reached its crescendo, and the next, Victoria had released her hand to cup her jaw, and they were kissing. Only softly, briefly, their lips brushing together for a second before Victoria drew back once more, but Yuuri felt as though time had held its breath. And once again she was realising why certain romantic clichés were so commonplace. This time, it was fireworks- she saw them burst behind her eyelids as they slid closed. For that second, she completely forgot her anxiety, forgot that Victoria was miles out of her league. Her entire body froze; all she could do was move her lips against Victoria’s and grip the back of her dress weakly with her fingertips- every other nerve had ceased to function as the touch of Victoria’s lips sent lightning bolts down every one of them.

When Victoria pulled away, she giggled, tipsy and adorable, but almost… bashful? “I wasn’t too forward, was I?” she asked light-heartedly.

“N-n-not at all…!”

“You were staring at my lips, and you looked very pretty doing it, is all.”

Is she blushing?

Now that the kiss was over, Yuuri’s anxiety had resurged in full force, and she half wanted to flee the room- having this beautiful, sweet, funny, gorgeous woman so close was almost too much.

“I-I was looking at y-you c-cause... p-pretty…” was all Yuuri could summon to say. The fog of confidence the alcohol had left hovering over her thoughts had shattered like a mirror, but at the way Victoria was looking at her, the endearment in her eyes… the liquid confidence was slowly being replaced by the slightest hint of real confidence. As much as Yuuri was completely overcome by disbelief, it was difficult not to feel just a little bit pretty when a girl like Victoria was looking at her like that…

The pair paused for a moment, just staring at one another, as the song faded out and another, more upbeat one began. As soon as the silence finished, Yuuri panicked and immediately launched herself straight back into dancing; it was the first thing she thought of that would break the tension, and surely enough, Victoria immediately followed suit, but this time they were closer together. They kept their arms around one another, spinning in circles around each other until they were dizzy. Yuuri was hyperaware of her hands on Victoria’s waist, and the fact they hadn’t broken eye contact once, but her inhibitions had been all but silenced by the thick cloud of alcohol, and she no longer had the self-awareness to be nervous. All the space in her head was taken up by Victoria, and the beat of the music.

The song came to its conclusion after what barely felt like a few bars, and in the brief pause between that song and the next, Yuuri found herself kissing Victoria again, only to carry on dancing again as soon as the music picked up. And then it happened again, between that song and the one that followed, and again, until Yuuri had lost count of how many songs had played and how many times they kissed, but the room was never silent, because in the moments of quiet between the music, Yuuri’s heart was thundering so loudly as their lips touched that she feared the whole room would hear it.

Before either of them had realised, the bar had closed and the crowd had begun to thin, until there were only a handful of people left on the dance floor, and the heat and exertion finally started to catch up to the two girls. They shared a final, brief kiss, before finally retreating from the centre of the room and slumping back in their seats.

“I haven’t had a workout like that in a long time,” Victoria said, grinning.

“Me neither…”

“I can’t believe the bar is closed; I’m parched… I think room service is 24 hours though. Want to come to my room for a drink?”

Yuuri nodded, too inebriated to read too far into what she’d said, and the pair left the room together, hand in hand. It wasn’t until they were in Victoria’s room, and Yuuri’s back was against the wall as Victoria kissed her deeply, their arms snaking around one another’s waists, fingers fisting in the backs of each other’s dresses, that Yuuri realised why she had actually been invited back to Victoria’s room. The realisation that Victoria was actually attracted to her enough that she wanted to… It sent an electric shock down Yuuri’s spine. Her whole body felt as though it was charged with static, and heat stirred in the pit of her stomach, and suddenly she was consumed with a wave of anxiety that crashed through the haze of her drunkenness. She could feel herself freezing up, and Victoria pulled away, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Is something wrong?”

“Y-you’re… gorgeous… and… I’ve never…” She could hear herself hyperventilating between words, feel the panic mounting under her skin. Here came the inevitable ‘emotional drunk’ phase.  

Victoria smiled understandingly. “You’ve never had sex?” she finished for her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The way she rubbed Yuuri’s back as she spoke was oddly soothing, far more so than it should have been, and it was only a moment before she’d steadied her breathing enough to admit:

“I’ve never… really thought about anyone in that way before…”

“…You aren’t interested in sex?” Victoria hazarded, and to Yuuri’s relief, there was no disappointment in her voice.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I never thought about it… M-maybe with the right person…” She’d been avoiding Victoria’s eye to that point, but she couldn’t help but look up at her then.

Victoria simply nodded. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“I-If I was gonna do something like that, I’d want it to be romantic…”

“Not sweaty and drunk?”

Yuuri smiled. “And maybe not with someone I only just met… N-not that you wouldn’t be my first choice, but I don’t want to rush…”

Victoria grinned. “I understand. If I’m being honest with you, I’m a little tired from all that dancing anyway- you have a lot of stamina. You’re still welcome to stay though…” She cupped Yuuri’s jaw softly. “I’d like to take some time to get to know you.”

Yuuri’s cheeks burned at the tender contact; somehow the affection with no ulterior motives was more embarrassing for Yuuri than what they’d been doing on the dance floor. But at this point, embarrassment felt good. A little shyness was definitely preferable to the mounting panic attack that Yuuri had feared was coming to a head a moment ago. Blessedly, the threat seemed to be subsiding, to Yuuri’s immense relief. The last thing she wanted to do was scare off this sweet, beautiful, totally out-of-her-league woman by having a meltdown, or worse, making Victoria feel as though she was responsible for said meltdown.

“…Especially after you were grinding on me like that,” Victoria joked.

“I wasn’t! …W-was I?”

Victoria giggled. “You know, I invited you here on the pretext of getting drinks from room service. I am a woman of my word, so what do you say to a hot chocolate?”

“That sounds wonderful...”

Victoria’s face lit up all of a sudden. “We could have a sleepover!”

The innocent joy on her face made Yuuri’s heartbeat stumble.

“I have some pyjamas you can borrow that should fit you…”

Before Yuuri had a chance to say a word, Victoria was rooting through her suitcase, and retrieved a pair of stretchy shorts and a t-shirt, which looked as though it would have been far too loose on Victoria. She offered them to Yuuri, who took them gratefully and changed in the bathroom, wiping off her makeup as she did so. The clothes weren’t quite so baggy on Yuuri as they might have been on Victoria, but they were still comfortable.

When she emerged, Victoria had also gotten changed into another greatly oversized t-shirt with a picture of a dog’s head poking from the breast pocket, and a pair of shorts that bared far too much of Victoria’s legs to be good for Yuuri’s blood pressure. She had also removed her makeup, and Yuuri was struck all over again by how beautiful she looked without it- of course, she’d looked beautiful dressed up too, but this was a different kind of beauty, a vulnerable, human, everyday sort of beauty. The kind of beauty that it felt like a privilege to see- anyone who followed Victoria’s Instagram could see her in her best woman’s gown, dressed up to the nines, but how many got to see her like this? Yuuri once again found herself trying to emboss the image onto her memory.

On the bedside table was a tray bearing a tall glass mug of hot cocoa, topped with a generous serving of whipped cream. Victoria leaned against the headboard, propped up by a pile of cushions. In her hands was the other mug of hot chocolate, which she’d been taking a sip from as Yuuri entered. Apparently, she’d underestimated the size of the mountain of cream, as there was a small blob of it stuck to the tip of her nose. Yuuri chuckled at the sight as Victoria wiped it away, a false affronted look on her face.  

“Thank you…” Yuuri said quietly, taking a seat on the bed beside Victoria and picking up her own mug.

“No problem.”

“S-so how long are you in Japan for?”

“Two weeks. It’s a long way to fly, so I thought I would make a trip of it... Maybe we could hang out? Didn’t you say your family owns a hot spring? I’ve always wanted to go to one. Ooh, does your dog live with your family? Maybe I could meet him.”

Yuuri nodded, unable to keep the grin off her face. “He does. Hasetsu isn’t far away by train. I can show you around the town; there’s a ninja castle, and a beach, and a restaurant that sells amazing katsudon.”

“Katsudon?”

“A rice dish with pork cutlets. It’s my favourite food.”

“I’ll take you there. My treat.”

“You don’t have to…” Yuuri began, but Victoria cut her off.

“I hit on you. The least I can do is take you to dinner.”

“I-I’m not sure you were the one hitting on me… I was staring at you all day…”

Victoria smiled. “I noticed.”

“Y-you did?!” Yuuri felt her insides shrivel in on themselves in mortification.

“It was cute; that’s why I had to find an excuse to talk to you. I didn’t actually forget my lipstick, you know. Besides, I wasn’t doing all the hitting on. You were practically a lap dancer out there; for someone so shy, you can be very erotic.”

Yuuri looked down bashfully. “I didn’t know I had that in me… My dad is a party drunk, I must get it from him; he totally loses it and goes off the rails when he’s tipsy.”

“Well I’m glad I got to see it come out.”

It struck Yuuri in that moment that she felt… comfortable. Despite her anxiety at the intimacy between her and Victoria, the nervousness she’d felt all day wasn’t the usual cold, self-deprecating dread that was one of her most common symptoms. It was a sort of… effervescent nervousness. Butterflies in her tummy sort of nervousness. Another cliché she hadn’t known was real. But it wasn’t a bad anxiety. It was more… excitement, or disbelief. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, dulling the worst of her nerves, but she was actually content with this woman. Yes, she was beautiful, but more than that, her smile radiated a small, comforting warmth, like a candle flame. She was incredible, but at the same time, she was safe. She never pushed Yuuri out of her comfort zone, never made her feel bad about herself.

She meets me where I am.

Yuuri didn’t think she’d ever been able to say that about anyone else. Even though she didn’t quite know Victoria that well yet, the prospect of spending more time with her (hopefully sober) made Yuuri feel buoyant, like she was full of light. Optimism was a stranger to her, but right then, she dared to feel just a little bit hopeful. 

Yuuri didn’t remember falling asleep- she and Victoria had been chatting, their limbs tangled loosely with one another’s in the bed, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up to the slanted beams of sunlight pouring in between the blinds.

But to be perfectly honest, she only remembered the previous night in blurry freeze frames. The only thing she could recall in detail was talking to Victoria in her hotel room, and the feeling of comparative tranquillity that had settled over her at her gentle reassurance. Everything before that was cobbled together from snippets of conversations and dancing and quite a lot of kissing, but the memories were unfocussed. But then again, Yuuri feared she might not yet be totally sober.

Especially when she looked over to see Victoria asleep beside her- it was hard to believe waking up in her bed wasn’t a drunken fantasy. Her hair was mussed, and she was sprawled in an odd position that made her look a little like a contortionist, but she was smiling faintly in her sleep, and God, she was beautiful. Just as beautiful, in that sleepy sort of way, as she’d been yesterday morning when Yuuri had first set eyes on her, and wondered how an angel had made her way into their dressing room.

Love at first sight.

That was another cliché Yuuri was coming to understand.