on and on we go @adrinetteapril
Day Four: Hide Me
Marinette wasn’t sure what was more troubling– the seventy-seven unread messages in her inbox or the shame-faced rose-toting blonde shifting in her doorway.
It wasn’t even 8 am and she already regretted getting out of bed.
“Do I want to know?” She asked as Adrien scurried inside.
“I’m so, so sorry,” He said, shoving the roses into her un-waiting hands. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Accepting the roses as her apparent due, she groggily made her way to the kitchen to find them a proper vase.
Although, if Adrien’s guilty expression was anything to go by, said vase may just be the trash.
“What did you do?”
“Please don’t be mad.”
“You know that’s not how this works,” She sighed, leaning against the counter. “And the faster you tell me the faster I can kill you.”
“Or not,” Tikki said, yawning, as she made her way towards the jar of cookies on the counter. Adrien appreciated the lackluster support even if she just as quickly abandoned him by phasing into the jar.
He was on his own.
“So you know I’m, like, famous right?”
Marinette stared.
“Right.” He laughed, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Well, there’s a new Gabriel ad coming out… which, I guess you also knew… but my fans didn’t and now they’re starting to get a little…” He made a waving motion with his hand. “Anyways, um, there’s been a lot more attention on me and… well… when you called me last week…”
He trailed off, watching as Marinette put the pieces together.
“They didn’t.” She said, face paling. “Please tell me they didn’t.”
Tikki poked her head out of the jar.
“Dirdn’t whrt?” She said, crumbs flying.
Adrien held out his hands, placating. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Adrien,” She said, eyes wide. “They only just stopped calling me pajama girl. Please don’t tell me they’re calling me underwear girl now.”
“Not exactly,” He grimaced, reluctantly handing over his phone. “Not– not underwear.”
Marinette nearly scratched him as she snatched the phone out of his hands.
There, in bold, black, pixels– a girlhood nightmare turned reality:
Is Agreste Single? Let’s Put a Period On That Question.
And, in all its stalk-arazzi glory, an image of a flushed Adrien rushing out of her apartment complex, box of tampons and bunched up fabric clutched to his chest.
This was so much worse than pajamas.
Adrien flinched as she let out a slow, high-pitched whine.
Curious, Tikki drew closer to look at the phone.
He startled when her big, blue eyes snapped back to his.
“Run.”
ruinedchildhood
