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Chloé felt a hysterical laughter take over her lungs. She just couldn't believe how dumbfounded Marinette looked as she sat in the middle of her bed.
Admittedly, she had known the shenanigans Adrien had dragged himself through for the past four years with his father, but flirting around with Marinette to just leave her high and dry was just so like him.
"Wait, how do you know, Adrien?" The bluenette pointed her finger at Chloé, a look of concern plastered across her face.
"Oh, please, Marinette," the blonde pulled Marinette's arm forward and wiggled the index finger with the ring. "The same way he probably duped you. Did he come to you under a dull moonlight at the back of your bakery, begging with teary eyes for a sidekick, a teammate, a friend?"
Marinette's face went pale.
"Trust me, Bug-a-boo, I helped him rehearse those lines," Chloé crackled.
"But how? For how long? W-what?" The bluenette malfunctioned before her eyes.
Chloé tilted her head and pretended to fall into deep thought.
"Since the end of middle school, maybe?," she nodded. "We met at a fashion show that my mother had to unceremoniously drag me to," she groaned, sinking into the bed as she kicked off her yellow stilettos.
"I thought I was the saddest kid stuck backstage watching their parents mix and match fabrics until I saw Adrien pouting his way to an Oscar performance in the corner. He totally convinced me that I was my secret younger sister for the next two years, you know, with how we were so blond and all, until I saw what his mother actually looked like. I had an existential crisis."
Marinette rubbed her forehead. "So you were childhood friends?"
"Pretty much," Chloé sang. "And he would tell me everything."
Marinette bit her bottom lip. She played her like a second fiddle.
"Well, he wouldn't exclusively tell me everything-everything, but Adrikins is so easy to read. It's all in the eyebrows," she pointed at her own."
It was certainly true, Marinette was better as the straight faced bad cop act than Chat Noir.
"Anyways, he got a giant box full of jewelry from an old man for helping him cross the street or whatever. I told him not to wear the junk, and then the ring wouldn't come off."
"Well, I can relate," Marinette gruffed.
"Then this totally dark, tall, and handsome man popped into existence into the room," she swooned.
"Okay, now you've lost me."
"His emerald eyes and that toned body. When paired with that baritone voice of his, I fell in love instantly," she said before her low went dark.
