Dearly Despised, (I love you)

Date?

A/N: oh you guys wanted a wholesome Adrienette date with no angst? HAHAHAHAHA WHAT BOOK DID YOU THINK YOURE READING

I'd say you can stop screaming at me since I've come back after the cliffhanger, but after this I know you'll just be screaming at me again

-

Marinette tripped over nothing.

It wasn't a first – certainly wouldn't be the last – but the reason for the fall was like no other.

Adrien's strong, resolved, butterfly-inducing (she wasn't going to elaborate on that) hands scooped her up before her paralysed face could grate against the concrete as fast as her heart almost threw up out of her throat. He secured her waist to hold her against him (because that was surely helping her mind right now) as if he didn't think she had any control over her body (she didn't) to be stable enough not to face-plant again.

Which she just might, because Adrien Agreste was taking her on a date.

And he was acting like it was real!

"...You okay?"

"You're what?!"

He pulled her back beside him, confidently taking her hand in his again and leading them. Each step was further away from the boat; further away from Luka; further away from anyone being a witness.

"C'mon, we don't have all night."

"Adrien, no one can see us hanging out if we leave."

His smile couldn't have been cockier. "So?"

Something flipped in her stomach. She hated the feeling because she loved it; she loved whatever was happening so her mind was impossibly mad.

"Why are you still holding my hand?

"That's what you do on dates."

"But there's no one around."

"I know."

Another stomach flip. Marinette couldn't say anything.

He bumped her shoulder with his. "Do you care if people see us?"

She puffed her chest arrogantly. A blockage unstuck in her throat, releasing a pride-stricken, rubbish torrent. "Of course I do, that's the whole point of fake dating! – So people believe us, you know? I take this seriously. That's why we need people to see us hanging out otherwise, well, the whole thing is just— See the principle, we just, it's the whole point. Of course. Yeah. Yes, I care."

For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection upon his glowing face, and now twilight bathed the length of Pont des Arts as they strode.

"So why haven't you let go, Marinette?"

Her cheeks burst red.

She faced away. Across the river, the long white cake of buildings dazzled with little lights in a farewell to the sun. Momentarily, she imagined jumping in the Seine to never have to see Adrien's smug expression again.

She looked down at their clasped hands occasionally knocking their sides, but still didn't let go. "It's a uh, safety thing."

"Oh, of course," he grinned, nodding. "Because you still think we're supposed to hate each other."

That almost made her stop in her tracks. Had he just forgotten the past few months?

(Because she nearly had.)