Dearly Despised, (I love you)

Therapy

A/N: Didn't think it was possible to get hotter in here for these two yet here they are

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"It's called commitment, Marinette."

As they moseyed the streets leading to the school, she reminded him most fussily, "We're not in an actual relationship."

"Commitment to our roles. Think about it, what are they going to say if they find out we're lying?"

Marinette pondered a second, munching her pastry goods. She started impersonating what people may say, "'Wow, this is shocking news'."

He looked at her.

"'I knew she was way out of his league'."

"Marinette—"

"'He probably paid her to pretend'."

"Marinette! You agreed to this. If you're going to be a child about it we can call it off."

But they couldn't. Against her everything, their predicament was far too convenient. She could arrive late to class from an akuma, and instead of unearthing some bullocks excuse from her magic hat, she could palm it off to her breaking relationship. Miss Bustier loved love, to the point it could be her own demise someday – she wouldn't let the two break up, not when to her, they were darling students who didn't go at each other's throats behind closed doors. As Ladybug, she needed this.

As Marinette, she hated it.

"No, I'm in."

But whether she liked it or not, she was committed.

"It's just this whole... method acting thing. It's just, I don't know. I think I'd just prefer to drink bleach." She shrugged.

"Go ahead," he grumbled, eyes burning a hole into her croissant.

Adrien seemed to have his agenda made up: They were dating just over three months, or two—she honestly was paying more attention to the wrestling pigeons atop her neighbour's house—and their relationship was threatened, ironically so, by their arguing, and a breakup was a silent possibility. Their objective for each session was to make Miss Bustier feel like she'd achieved a lot of damage control, before they went to the next session just as bad as before.

The school's archway impending, she inquired, "Why three months?"

"Think about it," he said speculatively.

Steps went under her feet as she slung her slender arm on the railing, sky reflecting off the eyes that idly cast its way. Her trained coolness was drenched in heat as she realised; her body stiffened as Adrien continued up the staircase.

The film festival.

"You're going to tell her that we dated because we enjoyed kissing?"

"I never said that," he announced over his shoulder. "I was going to say we had fun together that day and pursued our chemistry. But wow, Marinette." As she caught up, his darning smirk turned to her. "I didn't know you enjoyed it."

A rapid succession of indignations hit her at once before she blurted, "I said we."

Oh, wait. That's not what she was supposed to argue with at all.

A damp gleam of surprise sprang into his light green eyes. It fleeted as that wretched grin appeared. "If that's the case then maybe method acting isn't too much of a stretch."

Her stomach churned. He glanced at her food.

"Like maybe we could walk in sharing the croissant."

"Nice try." Her lips embraced the last chunk of pastry. His eyes dipped miserably to the stray crumbs that fell on her overcoat. "We haven't been dating for that long."