With Good Tidings

~ With Good Tidings - Chapter 11 ~

With Good Tidings - Chapter 11: Ladybug's Here for Show and Tell

Felix woke up to a quiet room. Usually, the assistant comes and knocks on everyone's doors, to wake them, but she hasn't yet. He reached out to pick up his phone from on the nightstand and checked it. It was still rather early, he realised, 5am to be exact. The assistant was probably still in bed, he figured, pfft, with Gabriel, he snickered to himself. He thought back to the previous night's events, he enjoyed the dinner, they even let him have seconds! He mused a bit more, remembering how Marinette fell asleep on him, and how soft she was. He also remembered the hug before he left. That, was the highlight of his day, he had to admit. Although, the day started out badly, with Marinette having a miniature panic attack that ended in him having to bridal carry her back home--wait, yeah, home, he nodded to himself, the bakery is the closest thing to home since they'd left London, he'd realised.

He had to admit, the sheer amount of stupidity and how gullible his classmates were astounded him. Especially his dear cousin, Adrien's. He could still see how awed he was by Mar--Ladybug, he mentally corrected himself, arriving in his bedroom to drop Felix off. Amateur, he snorted to himself.

"Felix, are you alright in there? I can hear a rather, copious amount of strange noises coming from in there," his Mother asked, muffled from the doorway. She opened the door tentatively, she wasn't stupid. She was dealing with a teenage boy, that more than likely had figured out how to "play" with himself, and if he didn't, well he'd figure that out sooner or later.

"I'm decent, Mother," he called out, and she walked inside, the relief evident on her face, even if she tried to hide it. "Just having a chat to the dust bunnies," he chuckled.

"Oh alright, well tell them Mother says hello," she chuckled, albeit a bit strained. She then left, her thoughts edging towards 'Should I call a therapist for my son one day?' and 'Where did I possibly go wrong? Was it his father? Should I have not had that extra wine that day fifteen years ago?'

Felix raised an eyebrow at the retreating figure of his mother, and the door being shut gently. Honestly, what did she think he could have been doing? Partaking in carnal activities with he, himself and the dust bunnies? Heh. He sniggered to himself, remembering to keep it down. He reached over for his phone again, it was now 5:30am, and he figured he could probably get out of bed. He sauntered over to the small standalone basin that could be filled with a jug of water, and the basin bowl itself picked up and emptied out. There was an oriental styled wall mirror on the wall behind it, and he studied his reflection in it. His face looked a tad sharper than he remembered, and his eyes held a mysterious spark in it that he wasn't sure he'd noticed before. He pulled off the cotton tee shirt he'd worn to bed, and began studying himself in the mirror again. He surely wasn't muscled, but he was definitely firming up. He remembered how his arms felt like jelly, not even six months ago, and now there was definitely some resistance. Even here, he realised, after a tentative prod to his stomach. Still soft, yet not baby fat soft. He hummed curiously, and wondered what Marinette would prefer. He pulled his attention back to his appearance, taking note of how flushed his cheeks were after thinking of his, um, his...ugh, his girlfr--wait, no, she was his girlfriend, he muttered incoherently to himself. A blonde haired, red faced young man with brilliant jade eyes stared back at him. His shoulders weren't terribly broad, and they definitely weren't narrow either. They seemed to fit his proportions perfectly, he hummed, pleased with that. A curious thought struck him. He ran his hand through his hair, tousling it better into style, and he found himself looking at what could be considered a fair attempt at copying Adrien Agreste. He wondered how Marinette would react to that? He hummed. Wait, no, she might fall in love with Adrien again, wouldn't want that.

He dipped his hands into the basin bowl, and used it to smooth out his hair. He whipped out a fine comb, and finished doing his hair. Once he was satisfied with it, he walked to the dresser and pulled out a light grey button up shirt, with long sleeves. He buttoned the shirt, and rolled up the sleeves. He wasn't a model, nor a fashion designer, but he found himself liking how it looked. He could probably wear the vest again with it if he wanted to appear refined, but he just didn't want to. He shrugged. Then realised he was still wearing his flannel pyjama pants. Better change those, he hummed thoughtfully.