Dearly Despised, (I love you)

Dark Cupid

A/N: Blue bell eyes and familiar despise

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Today was the day.

The confession.

"I believe in you, Marinette! You're finally going to do it!"

She seldom adored Valentine's day for the prevalent pinks that fluttered Paris, the picnics with her friends, and the abysmal storytelling of Chloé's that Marinette ripped apart until makeup-caked face was as red as the fake lover-letter she'd "received from XY".

But this year would be different.

And ironically, the idea spawned from Adrien.

"Who could it be talking about?" She had gripped the note earlier that morning. "Hair as dark as night? Blue-bell eyes?"

For the record, she'd done a lot worse than pulling thrown-away love letters out of the trash. Besides, this was Adrien's discarded letter that she'd fervently watched him scribble on during the discussion about fairy tales, and her curiosity was unbearable. And some fairy tale this was: If any person truly knew the delinquent, they'd want nothing to do with Paris' most famous teen model. Marinette didn't know whether to laugh at the poor excuse of poetry or be concerned that some unfortunate girl was being crushed on by Adrien.

Near the doorway of the classroom, every student out of sight, Tikki popped up. "Well, who does he know that looks like that?"

Marinette didn't see what Tikki was getting at – or rather, ignored it. "Lots of girls in the school have dark hair and blue eyes." If Adrien's taste was as bad in chocolate as girls, then she'd have to be evil. Maybe rich, but entirely flavourless. Unless the fact he liked dark chocolate had no influence in his perception on whether a girl was worth his time (actually, were any girls?). Her mind spiralled with negative but sporadic thoughts that just engraved a deeper dislike for him.

"Yeah but... bluebell eyes?"

Said eyes narrowed to the kwami. Marinette's lips thinned, the shrewd silence closing Tikki in on herself.

"What are you saying?"

"Uh... nothing."

Pink-nailed fingers tightened on the note. Upcoming class forgotten, she stared at it. Hard.

"But he could totally be writing it about you!"

Marinette blanched.

How could such an innocent, sweet voice suggest something so ghastly?

"Ha! Me?! Adrien would write me in his will before he wrote a love letter about me."

"But Marinette!" Tikki insisted, hovering over the oddly neat handwriting and pathetic use of literary devices an elementary schooler could use better. "What if he's been mean to you because he likes you!"

"Likes me?! Tikki—" she re-scrunched the note, cheeks dimpling with the incredulous smile that caused, and shook her head, "—Are you hearing yourself? I must've put something in those cookies because you've gone insane." She flicked the kwami's forehead. "If anything, he wrote it about me to give as a prank. You know him. This is silly."

A bar of disappointment dropped in her voice. "Oh..."

Gaze thinned, Marinette knew she wasn't finished.

"Hey! You should write a love letter to Chat Noir!"

Glancing at the bin, Marinette shoved the paper in her jeans, hair leaping as she snapped her neck around. "I can't do that!"