mind over mask

eighteen

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Marinette's POV

I hadn't been this happy in a long time, and I think I owed it to Damian.

He was the only one who understood me. I loved Chloe, she was my girl best friend, and Adrien had been my first partner, but I didn't click with anyone the way I had with Damian. We finished each others thoughts, we were interested in similar things, and we could talk about anything with such ease. Not even Luka could do that with me.

I learned that Damian had a cat named Alfred, and a dog named Titus. He could play the violin, but he truly liked painted.

He already knew trivial things about me, like how my favorite color was red, that I loved designing, and I baked for fun. I opened up to him quicker than anyone else in my entire life, even Alya hadn't known me this well.

After I found out that Damian's older brother worked late, I told him he could hang out at my house whenever he wanted. And so for the past couple of weeks, we had been hanging out every single day after school. He's watch me as I caught up on commissions, we'd play video games, finish up school work, or just watch movies.

At school, Lila had been unusually silent, keeping it to the rude comments, glares, and of course, her usual lies. But she didn't corner me in the bathroom, fall down the stairs, or try to expel me.

Karma was real, and I just had to wait for it to happen. After all, with the Ladybug Miraculous, karma is a cat, purring in my lap because it loves me.  And yes, I did just quote Taylor Swift.

And it was funny to see Lila brag about her oh so precious boyfriend, Dami-boo, while I knew the real one was sitting to my left.

Damian's eyes would harden whenever Lil would talk about him, and he would grit his teeth, but he didn't say anything. It was enough that he knew that Lila was dishonest. And I think he also didn't say anything for my sake, the more irritated Lila got, the more she picked on me. Damian noticed things about me that no one else picked up on.

When people talked trash about me in class, he would icily glare, and they would immediately stop, fearing him. I liked that he wanted to protect me.

At nights, I rushed off to the Eiffel Tower to meet up with Queen Bee, Chat Noir, Nightwing and Robin for patrol.

I was mostly partnered with Robin, because he had insulted both Princess Honey and Chat Noir on the first time they had patrol.

He called Princess Homey a side kick and a pretentious harlot, and Chat Noir a coward, and useless because he was simply the comedic relief.

Nightwing had been there to smooth things over, but they still had bad blood. So, being the bigger person, I had to stick it with Robin. He didn't say anything towards me, he watched me with wary eyes. His prickly glare felt familiar, but I kept my distance since he had been so rude to my team.

I couldn't wait for them to leave Paris.

Nightwing and I got along pretty well, our personalities matched and we could bounce over each other easily.

In our training session, we would spar with one another. Nightwing was impressed with my flexibility and flips, but I knew that it reminded him of his own fighting style.

Nightwing beat us all every time, but that made sense because he has a decade more of experience than the rest of us.

I was evenly matched to Robin, he would win some, and I would win others. Princess Honey did well with hand to hand combat, while Chat Noir did better at baton work. He and Robin would often fight, baton to katana.

We doubled our patrols and training sessions, as Hawkmoth took a silent streak. It was so odd, Paris almost felt normal again, but we all knew it was because he had something big planned. The city of love was waiting for the magical terrorist's next move.

I was so stressed out and tired, that the bags under my eyes get permanent. Constantly on the edge of my seat, waiting for Hawkmoth to attack, I didn't really feel like myself. I was happy, yes, but my mind refused to shut off from survival mode.

I kept zoning out during school, and speaking of which, I was brought back to reality when I realized Chloe was shouting my name.

"Marinette!" She calls out for a final time.

"Sorry Chloe, I zoned out," I said, yawning again. 

"I called your name almost a dozen times, are you okay?" She asks, studying me closely for a second.

Damian looks at me for a second, before looking away, giving a false sense of privacy in our class.

"Yeah I'm fine. I'm just overwhelmed with commissions." I lied. We both knew I was focused on something else. "What did you need from me?" I questioned.

"Can I borrow your math notebook? I don't get what Ms. Bustier is trying to teach." Chloe begs.

Adrien closes his textbook and mutters, "It would be nice if she actually taught. Why don't you just take mine?" He offers politely, ever the golden retriever.

"You're handwriting is too messy for me to read," Chloe insults him, she lives pressing his buttons.

"No it's not! Yours is worse than mine!" He disagrees.

Damian rolls his eyes at their immaturity while I laugh, and hand Chloe my notebook in front of me.

"Thanks! I'll swing by and give it to you tonight." She says. "Then we can talk about our Halloween costumes."

"Sounds perfect," I say, as the final bells rings, signifying the end of the school day.

The class filters out quickly, ready to be free from the prison we call school.

Chloe and I talk about the finishing touches to our coordinating costumes for Halloween, which is only a few days away, before her butler comes to pick her up. Adrien says a short goodbye, and I'm left with Damian.

"Are you coming over today?" I ask, double checking our plans.

"If you'll still okay with it," he answers back.

"Of course I am, Dami," I test out the nickname.

He freezes for a moment at the name, and then he slightly glares at me. "Has my brother been talking to you?"

"No, I've never met him," I say, at the same time realizing that I don't know as much as I thought about Damian.

He faces drops, and he apologizes, "Sorry, I was being paranoid, Grayson always calls me that."

"Do you not like the nickname? I can stop calling you that—"

Damian interrupts me, "I only don't like it when he calls me that."

"So you like it when I call you that?" I low key flirt.

Cryptically, he reveals, "Maybe."

My cheeks burn, and I quickly turn away. I swear in moments like these, Damian reduces me to a stuttering, blubbering mess like I had been with Adrien. I cough, changing the subject, "W—we should go back to my house then."

He softly laughs, fully knowing what my face looks like. "Ok let's go." He leans down and whispers in my ear, "By the way, red look good on you."

I blush even harder if that's even humanly possible, doubling my walking speed.

Usually, I would take this as a compliment, but my mind immediately turns to Ladybug and I pale. Does he know about me?

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