Chapter Text
Adrien couldn’t remember a time where he’d ever seen Marinette in the middle of designing clothing. This must have been the first time, and he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.
He was the lead of Nino’s new video project, but for this scene he was sitting in the background, working at his desk while the other two leads — Alya and Mylene — were arguing through their monologue. They shot the scene close to five times — this one being the sixth — because Nino kept trying out different camera angles and asking the girls to move closer, twist their bodies around, try walking around the scene instead of staying stationary, things like that. It gave Adrien the chance to work on his homework as a proxy for his character doing mindless paperwork, for which he was incredibly thankful, but once the current take started, he happened to let his eyes dart up to the back of the classroom to stare at Marinette.
Adrien sort of remembered Nino asking Marinette if she wanted a part in the video, but she adamantly insisted otherwise — something about not sounding natural when she was made to read off scripts — and suggested that she’d be much more comfortable being in charge of costumes. So Nino had given her some very basic sketches and descriptions and sent her off to work. The very next day, she’d come in with tape measures around her neck and a box full of swatches of fabric that she kept holding up to people’s faces, muttering something about skin tones the entire time.
He recalled the way she blushed, looked at her feet, and stumbled through her words a little when Marinette had asked to measure him, but Adrien noticed the way her confidence built itself back up when she was ordering him to hold his arms higher, to spread his legs a little wider, and started writing measurements on the back of her hand to use for later.
It wasn’t until today that Marinette rolled in with a sewing machine and three dress forms she borrowed from the drama department and a box full of half made trousers, shirts, pencil skirts, and suspenders. They’d been practicing their scenes for the entire afternoon while Marinette stayed in the back of the class pinning fabric and pushing it through the sewing machine.
There was something so different about her like this, maybe that was why he couldn’t look away. Adrien was more than familiar with the Marinette who tripped up and down stairs, accidentally hooked her feet into the straps of her bookbag, and couldn’t seem to string together one coherent sentence when he was within five feet of her. He was less familiar but very much aware of the Marinette who gave an incredible speech when she ran for class representative, the Marinette who often stood up to Chloe’s bullying when no one else would, and the Marinette who cared fiercely for her friends and those close to her.
But this wasn’t even any of those things, not quite anyhow. It was the way her brows furrowed so deeply, the way she occasionally talked to herself, the way she bit her lips without meaning to when she pinned fabric together or snipped off excess. Even her fingers were moving with this oddly graceful and careful dexterity that didn’t fit his clumsy image of Marinette at all. It was by far the most composed he’d ever seen her, and it was beyond fascinating.
“Dude! You’re staring off into space and it’s screwing up the shot!”
Adrien blinked suddenly and looked up at Nino who was sighing and looking down at his phone, probably reviewing the footage that he’d just interrupted. Alya was snickering at his expense, and Mylene was staring at him worriedly. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and winced, trying his best to look remorseful. “Sorry, I was daydreaming. It’s been a long day.”
“You gotta remember to keep looking down at your desk, otherwise it just looks weird, you get me?” Nino explained. He shrugged casually. “It’s cool, man, don’t worry. I think I wanna do some extra shots and splice them together anyway.”
Alya groaned, walked over to Nino, and leaned her chin on his shoulder while she looked down at his phone. “Again? We’ve done this scene a dozen times. Never would’ve pegged you for a perfectionist. Didn’t you say we could get a break? I’m hungry!”
“I’m not a perfectionist, I’m just trying to get the scene to look like how it did in my head.” Alya stuck her tongue out at him, but he just rolled his eyes fondly at her and shrugged her chin off his shoulder. “Fine, fine, I guess we can take a break for a few minutes. But I really want to get this scene done today.”
“And it will get done!” Alya promised. “But your lead detective needs to eat before she can crack your ridiculously convoluted case. Seriously, I need sugar in my brain.”
“I agree, I’m starting to get a little lightheaded myself,” Mylene piped up. “Just for thirty minutes? And then right back to work, we promise.”
Everyone else around them seemed to agree with the idea, so Nino officially announced to the rest of the students helping with the shot that they were going to take a quick break. Everyone immediately started leaving the room to get a quick bite to eat or rummaging through their bags to grab the snacks that Nino told everyone to bring in case the project ran late. Adrien was thinking of running out and getting a bit of bread to help him keep alert and take the time to feed Plagg while he was at it, but he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Marinette was standing and putting one of the white button up shirts on the dress forms and fixing the collar, not acting as if she were planning on breaking for lunch anytime soon.
He watched Alya tap her on the shoulder and ask her if she wanted anything to eat while she went out, but Marinette shrugged her shoulders and told Alya to just get her something small since she wasn’t all that hungry. Alya wrapped an arm around Nino’s shoulder and pushed them into the hallway so they could run across the street and get some food from the bakery while Marinette simply kept working.
Deciding that his curiosity was worth indulging in and that Plagg could afford to wait a few more minutes for his cheese, Adrien walked over to the back of the classroom and looked over Marinette’s shoulder as she started unbuttoning the shirt off the dress form. “So how’s the outfit coming along?”
Marinette turned around a little too quickly and made Adrien widen his eyes a little bit in shock when she let out something between a gasp and a squeak, her cheeks immediately warming with color and her words already getting stuck in the back of her throat. “O-Oh, uh, hi! A-Adrien! I didn’t uh, haha….you know, see you.”
“Sorry,” he smiled politely. “I guess I surprised you. You looked liked you were concentrating pretty hard. I was just curious to see how the costumes are coming along.”
“Oh, w-well,” she stuttered, turning around and pushing the dress form with the shirt on it a little closer to Adrien. “I’m actually finishing up your shirt. I was uh….well, I-I was planning on finishing your trousers tonight so that we can try to put on the shirt, the pants and the suspenders together tomorrow. But, um….one thing at a time, I guess.”
Adrien looked at her for a moment, silently asking for permission before he rubbed the fabric of the sleeve between his fingers. It was an inexpensive but comfortable cotton blend that he thought wouldn’t feel too rough or too stiff for their scenes. He looked around briefly at the shirt and saw that all of the seams seemed to have been stitched up properly. He turned to her and asked, “Do you mind if I try it on? Only if it’s done that is.”
Marinette nibbled on her lips — and he was suddenly extremely aware of the difference between her nervous lip biting and her focused lip biting — and balanced on the tips of her toes. “Wait….you want to try it on now?”
“I’m curious,” Adrien grinned. “You’ve been working so hard, I want to see how it feels. If you don’t mind.”
“I, uh….no, no, sure. That’s, uh….that’s fine. Oh, well, lemme just….” She turned around and carefully pulled the shirt off the dress form and held it out for him. “Just be careful not to tear anything, alright?”
Adrien nodded and slipped off his overshirt so that he could pull on the long sleeved shirt. He didn’t know too much about fashion, but he knew enough from being thrust into hundreds of expensive outfits to know a piece of well made clothing when he saw it. He wasn’t sure how long Marinette had been making her own clothes, but the seams were neat, the buttons were straight and aligned well, the collar was crisp and even, and the fabric she picked was breathable and easy to move around in.
He’d only buttoned the shirt up halfway when he twisted his torso and frowned. “Um….actually, I think the sides feel a little tight.”
Marinette’s brows furrowed slightly, and Adrien almost smiled at the sight. “Tight where?” she asked shortly.
Adrien pointed right underneath his ribs. “Near the waist. Like it’s stretched too tight across this part here.”
Marinette quickly moved behind him and only hesitated for a few seconds before she started tugging on the fabric. She hummed to herself. “It’s because you’re wearing a shirt on underneath it. I didn’t account for that when I measured you out for the shirt. That must be why it feels a little snug,” she explained, not a single note of nervousness or stuttering present.
“I can go and change in the bathroom if you want,” Adrien offered.
“Do you prefer to keep the undershirt on?”
“It’s fine, Marinette. I can just change.”
She shrugged and started up at him with a strange sort of no-nonsense fierceness in her demeanor that he couldn’t explain. “You’re wearing it, it’s your comfort that matters. Just tell me.”
Adrien blinked for a moment before he tilted his head. “Well, I guess I’d prefer to leave it on underneath if it’s all the same.”
“Sure!” she grinned. She gestured for the shirt back as Adrien finished taking it off and sat back down at the seat she was using before, shuffling through a small bag of sewing materials she kept at her side.
He quietly pulled out the chair next to her and silently watched her work with a smile on his face. She was rolling the shirt inside out and inspecting the seams near the torso. She was looking at a small notebook filled with numbers — probably his old measurements — and pulling out a tape measure to measure the length of the seams. She was clicking her tongue against her cheek and looking back and forth between the shirt and the notebook before Adrien piped up.
“Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?” he said.
Her face was still flushed and she was staring at him as if she were wondering whether or not she should respond, but she shoved the shirt closer to him and spoke without a hitch. “I’m going to let out the torso a little bit to give you more room. I kept a lot of seam allowance just in case this happened, so I think I’m going to give you an extra inch or so of slack. So I’m going to measure out how much I’m letting out, and then….” She reached back into her bag and pulled out a small bit of chalk. “I’ll just mark where I’m going to sew, pull the seams out, and resew it.”
Adrien nodded along, trying to think of more questions if only to keep Marinette talking. “How long will it take do you think?”
“Not long,” Marinette promised, already making the chalk marks she needed. “Maybe twenty or so minutes?”
“Is it going to be hard?”
“Nah,” she said confidently with a smirk on her face. She blindly felt around in her bag for a button hook and started pulling the seams out. “I do this all the time. Easy as pie.”
Their conversation tapered off as Marinette started taking pins out of her bag and pinning together the new seam, but Adrien didn’t mind in the least. He leaned his elbow on the table and leaned his cheek against his fist while he started spacing out and watching her hands work. She used her elbows to hold the fabric taut while she slipped the pins in without any effort, and her fingers were strong and grounded while she held the fabric together to make sure that she recreated the seams right on the marks that she made. He was noticing more little habits — blowing the baby hairs out of her face, nodding her head in a strange rhythm as if she was sewing and pinning to a beat that Adrien couldn’t hear, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth only just so.
It was such a charming picture, and he finally realized why she looked so intriguing — it was the first time Marinette made anything she did look effortless. She was probably right that this wasn’t difficult for her because she was making it look like she’d been doing this since she was born — no, like she was born to do this. Adrien couldn’t say he knew what that was like, and could only use the freedom and ease that came with being Chat Noir as his only comparable example. But thinking of Marinette also made him think of another pretty girl clad in red who swung and jumped through the city of Paris like it was easier than breathing. It was hard to explain, but it was like their confidence felt the same, had the same energy and taste to it. He hadn’t meant to compare the two of them, but he couldn’t remove their two faces from his head now that he had started.
The whirring of the sewing machine had snapped him out of his thoughts and he watched as Marinette started to carefully push the fabric through the machine. He cleared his throat. “Is it alright if I watch you? I realize I didn’t really ask.”
“Not at all,” she smiled, daring to look at him out of the corner of her eye. “Alya likes to watch me sometimes too. It’s….relaxing.”
Adrien smiled in thanks and let his eyes follow the seam of the shirt, the stitching coming out straight as an arrow, and there was something so curiously beautiful about that, about seeing the product of someone’s wonderful, simple labor. He didn’t bother editing himself or keeping himself from talking aloud before he muttered, “I didn’t think sewing could look so graceful.”
Marinette didn’t seem to mind the question, because she grinned in response and nodded. “It’s not always graceful. Sometimes it’s a lot of pinpricks, sewing things together that shouldn’t be together, ripping out seams because you get frustrated. Heck, sometimes when I’m doing something complicated, I shake because I’m nervous and trying to get it just right.” She did something brave and sent him a small smirk that punched a note of strange familiarity through his mind. “But I guess that comes with the territory.”
Adrien chuckled. “Well I don’t see any of that happening now.”
Marinette shrugged, pulling the shirt away and inspecting the seam more closely. “I’m used to it by now. I guess practice smooths out all the harsh edges.”
“Oh please,” Adrien said with an eye roll, leaning in a little closer to her and smiling as he spoke smoothly. “There’s absolutely nothing harsh about you. You look absolutely lovely.”
He only realizes what he said after it’s out of his mouth, and he immediately snaps his jaw shut in shock because oh my God, did he really say that to her? Out loud? His eyes were wide with panic and Marinette had already snapped her head towards him, looking equally as shocked. He messed up. He messed up so bad. He hadn’t meant to say something that had sounded quite so —- what? Friendly? Teasing? Flirty? He wasn’t really sure what he was trying to get at with that statement, but he had only just started getting Marinette to talk to him, and he was sure, with the way that she was looking at him, he’d gone and scared her all over again.
Except Marinette wasn’t blushing, and she wasn’t stuttering or panicking. If anything, she looked confused or bewildered, like she had water splashed in her face or like a fly zipped right past her nose. She was narrowing her eyes at him, searching for something on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher. It reminded him of that look you’d give a stranger you ran into on the street that you swore you’ve seen somewhere else but couldn’t quite recall where. Adrien almost wished that Marinette started slipping back into her nervousness, because her appraisal was starting to make him self-conscious, and he was feeling himself get warm under the collar of his shirt.
Deciding the silence was making him feel even more embarrassed, he quickly held out a hand and tried to backtrack. “I mean! Your sewing looks lovely! Not harsh at all. Practiced. You know. Like you said. About your, uh….your sewing.”
Adrien bit down on the inside of his cheek, hoping that it didn’t sound as stupid to Marinette as it did in his head. But instead, Marinette went and surprised him. Instead of matching his nerves, she rolled her eyes perfectly and chuckled from the back of her throat before smirking at him. “Very smooth save,” she laughed with a sharp look of amusement in her eye. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He felt his mouth part open just a touch, and it was only when she noticed that she shook her head a little and turned back down to inspecting the seam on his shirt. He had definitely never seen Marinette look at him or talk to him like that before, like she was teasing him and laughing at his expense. Her eye roll looked so familiar and practiced, and she responded to him with such familiarity and confidence that Adrien was struggling to figure out where it came from. To be fair, he did just make himself look pretty stupid, so maybe he just made it incredibly easy for her to laugh at his expense. But he couldn’t ignore that strange, nagging, thought in the back of his head that had suddenly just drifted to the forefront of his mind, practically screaming to make itself obvious.
For just a fraction of a second, Marinette reminded him of Ladybug.