#the snails are all very cute and I think they should’ve just gotten to stay every session after

[woodsie]

still missing the session 3 snails so much 😔

grian’s should’ve had a red teacozy over its shell to imitate his sweater tho just sayin /

[lady-charinette]

A Purrplexing Encounter (Chapter 11) - Dinner for Two Marichat Fic

A Purrplexing Encounter

Previously on “Dinner for Two”…

She spotted a group of male models a few steps away, talking, some chuckling. Almost all of them had bathrobes on, they would obviously come up on stage later, after the female models were done with their performances.

As Marinette tried to slip past the group of males, back towards the changing rooms to check on her models, she nearly tripped over her own feet when a particular voice caught her attention.

She was sure she wasn’t imagining it, but when she turned around, there were several models talking, it was impossible to say which voice belonged to whom. There was a blond with green eyes, a brunet with blue eyes, several black haired guys with brown eyes.

But there was only one name that hit her like a lightning bolt when she heard a familiar voice sound from among the group.

Chat Noir?

Adrien swore he saw something black, almost dark blue pass by his field of vision. It was such a precise shade that it always made him think of a certain woman whenever he saw that color anywhere.

Despite the chatter among the other models, he expertly tuned them out and whipped his head this way and that, heart racing a mile a minute.

He could’ve sworn he saw-

“Hey, Agreste.”

Adrien turned back towards the group of models, staring at him with smug or knowing looks, “You look like you saw someone interestin’, which model caught your eye, hmm?” Reno, a tall brunet with sun-kissed skin and hazel eyes he labeled as ‘wild’ nudged his side teasingly, “Bet it was that blonde with the cute ass.” A few amused chuckles rose from the other models, seemingly agreeing.

Amand, a tall French man with pale blond hair and cold blue eyes snorted in disgust, “Show some respect, you’re a guest here, American.” Reno rose an eyebrow at the stoic man, not taking kindly to him being spoken to like that.

“Did those snails you had for dinner finally crawl outta your ass, Amanda?” Reno and Amand looked ready to quarrel but Adrien placed a placating hand on Reno’s shoulder.

“Hey, let’s not fight, this is neither the time nor the place.” Adrien caught Amand’s gaze and the man turned his nose, making the blond turn his attention back to Reno, “Uh, to answer your question, I just thought I saw somebody I knew.”

Reno seemed to calm down, “Ah, I see. Sorry for assuming, buddy.” Adrien shook his head, offering the brunet a smile before he excused himself to get a glass to drink. The tension among the males was more than he was willing to bear with tonight, especially considering the hectic day he had. He didn’t need a physical fight to break out, especially not with all those paparazzi and his father’s bodyguards mingling about.

He could already picture the headlines.

‘Adrien Agreste, France’s sunshine model involved in a brawl among model peers!’

‘Agreste Junior rebelling against fashion mogul Gabriel Agreste by picking fights at fashion gala! Stay tuned!’

He shook his head, smiling as he grabbed a fresh glass of orange juice to drink from, he’d had enough of champagne for tonight.

He observed the people around him, offering respectful nods to important ones he’d already met along the way. He saw a forming line of the female models being set into a neat line, a person zipping this way and that behind them. He couldn’t quite see who it was, maybe it was the designer of the dresses and the suit he was going to wear tonight. He definitely wanted to meet the man as talented in their craft, it was well-made, fit him perfectly and wore itself like PJ’s, it was comfortable but looked very sharp and professional to the public eye.

He expertly slipped through the crowd, setting his now empty glass on a tray a waiter was carrying, he felt silly meeting people in a bathrobe, but he’d gotten used to it in this scene.

His gaze narrowed at the constantly moving figure behind the models, trying to make out features of the person. Did they have dark hair?

Wait, were those pigtails?

Adrien froze on the spot, a few feet away, when the person behind the models suddenly slipped through between the two standing women, applying finishing touches to the models and encouraging them to do their best.

The designer was a her, dressed in well-fitted dark pants, short heels, black blazer with a crème colored dress shirt beneath.

She had bluebell eyes, adorable freckles, cute face, and that smile-

‘Marinette!’ Adrien’s eyes flew open and he quickly dived back into the crowd before she saw him. His body was on autopilot, he was panicking.

What should he do?

She was here.

SHE WAS HERE!

And he was in a bathrobe!

Who did he anger to give him such rotten luck?! Couldn’t he appear sophisticated in front of her?! He should’ve listened to Plagg, Plagg was right, bathrobes were stupid, they served no purpose except look fluffy.

At this point, wearing a cat onesie would’ve been infinitely more preferable than this.

He could do this.

He was a model.

Adrien quickly ran a hand through his hair, trying to comb through it neatly and adjusting the collar of the bathrobe, knowing it was useless. At least the robe was pretty enough.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien straightened himself and set his shoulders, attempting to appear graceful but powerful.

Marinette was smiling and encouragingly patting the models on their shoulders, giving them a thumbs up as they ascended the stairs to the catwalk.

He was a goner.

She was too adorable.

He was a mess.

He wasn’t powerful, he wasn’t graceful. He was a kitten on shaking paws ready to bolt the minute this cute mouse turned around and spotted him.

As if reading his thoughts, Marinette turned away from the models and suddenly rounded in his general direction.

The blond froze like an ice cube, hands stiffened to his sides and eyes blown wide open like a frightened cat.

Marinette was heading towards him.

She was walking towards him.

Her eyes were on him.

They were such a purrty shade of blue-

“Excuse me!”

Adrien released a yelp, it sounded like a high pitched mewl and a frightened gasp, and Marinette looked up at him, “Um, excuse me, I need to get to the buffet really quickly.”

Mind going into overdrive, Adrien hastily made room, accidentally pushing against some VIP man’s back and causing him to choke on his champagne, “S-Sorry!”

She smiled brilliantly at him, brighter than the flashlights, “It’s okay! Thank you!” before she rushed passed and towards the long table of food.

Adrien gripped his heart, it was racing as fast as a freight train. Maybe it were the first warning symptoms of a heart attack? Should he see a doctor?

It was when Marinette, again, rushed passed him with food in her hands that his eyes regained focus.

She didn’t take the food for herself, but for one of the models.

A woman was on the floor, hyperventilating, breathing too quickly and looking distressed when Marinette reached her.

Adrien’s earlier embarrassment melted away when his feet carried him over to the model, crouching down next to her and feeling her forehead for a fever, “Breathe, take short breaths in and deep breaths out, 1, 2, 1, 2.” The model nodded, doing as she was told, recognizing Adrien and squeezing his hand so tightly he thought it would break, “Release. That’s good, keep it up Alicia.” Alicia nodded again, too frightened to speak.

His fellow colleagues joined the scene as well, Reno helping the woman stand and directing her towards a chair near the buffet area, Amand and the rest moved along to help, the fruits Marinette had brought was taken to be given to the model later.

The woman beside him released a long drawn out sigh, “Oh god, this is all my fault, I didn’t pay attention enough to see she didn’t eat anything.”

Much of Adrien’s earlier embarrassment was forgotten temporarily, his voice calm and very soft, “It’s not your fault, models have a way with hiding the fact they hadn’t eaten anything. She’s still young, so she didn’t eat enough to keep herself level headed before getting on the catwalk. Younger models often underestimate for how long their bodies can survive without food, under the heat of the overhead lights and the constant flashes of the camera.” His lips set into a grim line, “Trust me, you did a good job, her manager will take care to switch up her nutritional plan again.”

He looked down at her and Marinette was smiling up at him, relief washing over her tired features, “Thank you. For helping and reassuring me.” She bowed briefly and Adrien’s heart skipped a beat.

“Uh, s-sure, no purrblem.” The second the word left his lips he mentally cursed himself, catching Marinette’s surprised look before he coughed into his hand violently, “Prrrhh, ahem, sorry, seems like that champagne was too much.”

Marinette giggled, settling a hand on his shoulder and Adrien had to summon all of his willpower not to jump, “I can relate, I’m not the champagne type myself.” She watched the rest of the models go onto the catwalk, the room diminishing and all lights hitting the models, “Oh, excuse me, I need to get to the seats.”

Adrien watched her rush towards the assembly of chairs, positioned right in front of the catwalk where the models were posing and walking, most wearing her designs.

Adrien clutched at his heart.

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

Marinette tried keeping her attention on the show, but she discreetly glanced to the side every few minutes, watching the blond model with the green eyes walking towards the buffet to check up on the woman.

She was sure she was hallucinating, delirious, maybe drunk, maybe overworked, maybe both.

That model had a similar voice to Chat Noir, it was softer, lighter, but there was an uncanny resemblance to it.

She sighed, shaking her head. It wasn’t impossible. Voices were different. People could have similar voices. They could also have very different voices.

Besides, what are the odds that the man she sort of liked was funny, witty, kind and a model?

She wasn’t that lucky, after all.

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

A figure leaned against the wall of the building, watching the switching, flashing lights through the large glass windows curiously.

He checked his watch.

9.40pm

It was too soon.

He still had to wait.

It had only been a week, he needed more information, more time.

An invite.

With a small smile, the young man shoved his hands in his pockets, a wide grin stretching his lips in the dying light of the flickering street lamp.

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

The next morning

“Ugh, Alya, I’m beat!” Marinette tiredly grabbed the steaming mug in her hands, the dark, bitter liquid reflecting the saggy bags beneath her eyes.

The reporter, already dressed for work, finished the last of her own coffee, quickly washing it in the sink and grabbing an apple, “Yeah, I bet, after that fashion gala last night. How was it? I saw it on TV but its always juicier hearing it from an insider.” Her eyes were alight with mischief and excitement and Marinette giggled.

“Well, as excited as you can imagine. I was just running from point A to point B really, helping the models, grabbing something to eat in-between, they had such good food, talking with other designers and mostly agents and yeah…I guess that was it.” She yawned, craning her neck, “A model also got really sick, she hadn’t eaten anything before getting ready to go onstage, thankfully a male model stepped in to help me.”

The reporter was leaned over the table in a millisecond, “Male model?” she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Marinette frowned, “Alya.”

“What? Don’t go looking at me like that girl! I’m happy you transitioned from cat to man!” she grinned like the cat that got the canary and Marinette wished she had more active braincells to effectively deal with her better.

“It’s not what you think, he just helped the girl out. We exchanged a few words and that’s it.” After a long pause and a sip, Marinette shrugged, “…He was cute, though.”

“I knew it!” Marinette waved her off tiredly, groaning when Alya did a little victory dance on her chair, “I knew you’d one day use the connections your job gave you! Finally you’re going to ogle handsome models instead of stuffed toys!” she crossed her arms, a smug smirk adorning her painted lips and her friend gave her the finger playfully, “Not nice, girl, not nice.”

Marinette lowered her hand, taking another larger gulp of her beverage, “Not nice assuming things, Alya. It’s not like I never saw a model in my life, you know. It’s just, he was the only one of the models to immediately help, the others were too busy drinking and laughing. I guess not all beautiful people have money in their hearts.”

The auburn haired woman snorted, taking another bite of the apple, “What are the chances of you seeing him again?”

“I don’t even know his name!”

“Well, what did he look like for starters? We can already check ‘six-pack’ and ‘chiseled jaw’ I’m sure.” The foxy grin on her face didn’t make Marinette’s headache go away, it only slowed the departure.

“Tall, blond hair, green eyes, kind smile.” She paused, remembering his voice, “He….he kind of reminded me of Chat Noir though.”

The half-eaten apple bumped against Marinette’s mug and Alya hastily grabbed it back, cradling it in her shaking hands, “W-what?! Girl, no! Stop that! Bad Marinette! Stop imaging Chat Noir in everyone! Do I look like I have whiskers?! How many?” her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she stuck her tongue out.

An exaggerated eyeroll, “I’m not, I swear! It’s just…his voice wasn’t exactly like his, it was softer and a bit lighter, but it was close enough.” She laid her forehead against the table, sighing, “Maybe I imagined it, I didn’t sleep all that good and worked late for those dresses.”

Alya snorted, “Right you did, you should take the day off, Jul and Rose can take over for today.” An idea popped into her head suddenly, “Hey, wait, I thought you found your mystery cat. Didn’t you say that professor guy was Chat Noir?”

A miserable frown marred the designer’s face and she gently hit her forehead against the table in frustration, “I’m not even sure what I found, Alya. Erik’s…alright, I guess. It’s just, he constantly makes fun of Nath and I don’t like that. He acts different than when we’re in the restaurant.”

“Maybe it’s a thing between professors? They do study in similar fields.” Alya shrugged.

Marinette huffed, “That’s what I thought too, but Nathaniel had that haunted, ‘that guy harassed me’ look about him when I mentioned his name. They really don’t get along at all.” She pushed aside her coffee and rested her chin against her propped up hands miserably, “Maybe I should drop it, maybe I was wrong about Chat, after all.”

Alya’s brow shot to her hairline, “What?! You can’t be serious, Marinette! You’ve talked about that guy for the last weeks! You’re totally smitten!”

“But what if I misjudged his character? What if he’s actually a jerk? I can’t date or like someone like that.” She pouted, looking truly conflicted. Alya hated seeing her like that.

The reporter stood up from her seat and walked around her kitchen table, wrapping an arm around her best friend reassuringly, “Hey, don’t be like that, I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.” She rubbed her cheek against Marinette’s affectionately, “Besides, my best friend doesn’t just fall for anyone, either way he’s a great guy or there is no guy at all!” she grinned and Marinette giggled, hugging Alya back.

“Thanks Alya, you always know what to say to make me more confident.” With a playful smirk, Marinette gently nudged her best friend, “By the way, Nathaniel is giving you competition, he started learning how to cheer me up too.”

Alya clenched her hand into a fist, “That punk! How dare he! Oh, he should watch his ass when I come into one of his lectures! That paperball is going straight for tomato child!”

Marinette laughed.

Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoyed! Thoughts so far? :3