mind over mask

fourteen

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Marinette's POV

The grey sky rumbles with thunder, and I know it's about to rain. Chloe and Adrien have already left, I stayed behind to clean out my locker. I began rushing down the steps of the school, when I see Damian slouched against them, waiting.

"Damian? What are you doing here?" I asked puzzled.

"Waiting for my ride." He answers curtly.

"Oh." I say, and then offer, "If we walk back to my place, I can give you a ride on my  motorcycle."

His eyebrows lift in surprise, and then furrow in rebuttal. "It's fine," Damian says.

The rain starts pouring down all at once, and we stare onto the streets as it begins flooding. There's another crack of thunder that shakes the skies.

I look at him, my offer still standing.

"Fine, I'll come. Grayson won't be done with work for a few more hours." Damian says, studying the clouds, knowing that the downpour won't end for a while.

"Why don't you stay for dinner until your brother can pick you up? I'm not riding my motorcycle in this weather. That way, you're not alone." I add. I was not about to ride my motorcycle if the streets were about to flood.

Damian looks conflicted, "I don't wish to intrude."

I assure the secret Wayne, "You're fine. Chloe and Adrien come over all the time. You're not imposing, I promise."

Damian nods. Not a man of many words. He's straight to the point, but at least he's polite.

I grab my backpack, putting it over my head, and run to the bakery. The slaps on the cobblestones behind me, signify me that Damian was doing the same thing, following me as we got soaked from the rain.

A flash of lightning skirted across the skies, and it's rumbling soon rolled over us.

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Damian's POV

Dupain-Cheng—Marinette, rather, was such an interesting character.

The whole class picked on her, led by Lila, but Marinette wasn't rude, nothing about her actions pointed towards that conclusion.

And yet, she bore it with grace, rarely acting out unless it was to defend herself.

At school, she was constantly tired, and numb of emotion. But the moment she left the boundaries of Francois-Dupont, she was happy.

Anyways, Grayson would be working for a few more hours, and I was not about to stay at the school for a moment longer.

I figured that I could poke around Marinette's house, and find if she's Ladybug or not. She was at the top of my list.

She acted like Ladybug would, always choosing the right and defending others. She was constantly tired, and she was the one who stayed so I wouldn't be akumatized. It was obvious.

Nevertheless, the girl was hiding a secret, a big one, and I would figure it out.

We ran the from the high school to her bakery, and she was fast, which only added to my belief that Marinette was in fact, Ladybug.

Marinette throws the bakery door open, and the sweet, warm smells of pastries and bread envelope us.

Her mother is sweeping the floor, while her father is busy putting in another tray of cookies.

"Marinette!" Her mother explains, putting down the broom. "Who is this—"

"Maman, Papa, this is Damian Grayson. He's the new student from our class, and he's staying over for dinner tonight." Marinette introduces me.

Her father, walks around the counter, looming over me, "Nice to meet you! I'm Tom Dupain." He extends his arms, and I shake it politely.

Marinette's mother looks at me closely and then says, "You're the young man who comes in for tea in the morning, aren't you?"

"That is correct." I said nervously, wanting to make a good impression. When did I care about making a good impression—

"We're soaked from the rain, so we're gonna change. We're going upstairs to do homework in my room." Marinette rushed, trying to get us away from her prying parent's eyes.

My arm is grabbed, and I'm led towards a set of stairs.

"Leave the door open!" Marinette's mother calls after her daughter.

Marinette squeaks, and yells back in embarrassment, "Maman!"

She promptly lets go of my arm. I look over at Marinette, and she has a light tint to her face. This is not Dupain-Cheng from school. When she notices that I'm staring, I schools my thoughts and the emotion disappears from my face as quickly as it came.

Our clothes drip rainwater across their kitchen, and Marinette starts leading me up another set of stairs.

"I'm so sorry about Maman," Marinette's apologizes, "she likes to ruthlessly tease me."

I nod, following her up to her room, "No worries, my brothers do the same."

"Brothers?" Marinette repeats, stopping right in front of me on her stairs.

I look away quickly.

"I live with my oldest brother, Grayson. I have two other brothers, Drake and Todd, and a sister, Cassandra." I reveal, and I bite my tongue, why did I say so much?

Marinette shares, "Oh I would love to have a big family. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but I would love not to be an only child."

"There are ups and downs to it." I say vaguely.

She nods, and we enter her room. It's not what I expected.

The walls are white, and the rest of her furniture is either in shades of it, black or red. Her bed is a loft bed, and underneath it is completely dedicated to and covered with her fashion designs. I look at it closely, and they're very good.

I glance towards the other half of the room, leading outside to a balcony. The rains patter against the windows, and the wind howls at the edges.

Marinette doesn't mind me taking in her room, instead she's digging through a trunk.

"Do you want a longsleeve or a short sleeved shirt?" She asks without hesitation.

"What?"

"To change into. You're sopping wet." She deadpans, "I have extra designs from my friends. They're Adrien's size, so they might be a little small for you," Marinette admits.

"It's fine," I say, already feeling like I am overstepping.

"So longsleeve or—""

"Longsleeve," I answer too quickly, but I don't care. I don't want anybody to see my scars here. They're long faded, but I hate prying eyes.

Marinette hands me grey sweat and a black longsleeve. "You can change in the bathroom," Marinette points towards a door.

I nod in appreciation.

I change in the bathroom, and step out into her room without a second thought.

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