She likes to think she’s understanding. Given a circumstance, she would hope she wouldn’t be judgmental about people. Yet, there were a few things she couldn’t stand. She didn’t like it when people thought better of themselves, and she didn’t like it when people were over-confident. No matter how many times she rationalized it in her head, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself there was a reason for their behavior, an acceptable reasonfor it, she simply couldn’t. And there were only two people in the world who did this to her. Chloe and Chat Noir.
Although, Chat Noir was a bit more light-hearted and playful about it, sometimes it actually did rub her the wrong way. Not because of his actions, but his motives behind them. Or… at least her assumption of his motives. He flirted with every girl, she encountered him a few times as Marinette, and what would you know, he flirted with her. So of course, she’d begun to think that he flits with everyone just because he thinks he’s so cool.
She sighed, realizing how judgmental her thoughts were becoming. She didn’t even know why she cared, honestly. It was just… it was as if he threw a girl’s heart up in the air, only to fall with a splat on the ground. Perhaps that’s why she was so guarded around him. Liking— no— loving someone was sacred, after all. Although, she didn’t even know what that felt like. She didn’t know the thrill of love, the mutual desire for intimacy. It just seemed like he was disrespecting that special part of life, the fragile reality of liking someone like that. Of loving someone like that.
She couldn't bare the fact that someone would flaunt over that so nonchalantly, so recklessly, so carelessly. After all, she knew what hopeless, one-sided love felt like.
Ladybug may get attention, but Marinette? No chance.
“Marinette? Hello?” Alya looked at her friend, worried and unsurprised at the same time. “Jeez, you space out every five seconds— maybe you should go into psychology— you think too much!” Alya said, teasingly, Marinette knew, so she didn’t take it personally, though it wasn’t really an insult.
“Sorry, Alya, I got a bit distracted. What were you saying?” She looked at Alya with an apologetic look.
“Distracted is an understatement, I was even talking about the love of your life, how could you tune out of that conversation!?” Alya stressed, “I was saying that Adrien mentioned he wasn’t going to the dance with anyone! This is your chance, girl! Ask him,” she practically screamed. She thanked God that they weren’t in class and instead walking to her house along the streets of Paris. But what her friend had said embarrassed her anyway.
“A-are you kidding me!? He probably hasn’t asked because he’s not interested in anyone at school!” she said, excited he wasn’t going with anyone, but too scared to even consider asking him herself.
“Then make him interested!”
Marinette looked away from her friend and to the ground, “I…” her throat clogged up, suddenly feeling extremely hopeless. But Marinette? No chance… She released a breath she hadn’t realize she was holding, “There’s no way I could.”
Alya gave her a skeptical look, “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.”
“And I think you’re giving me too much,” strands of Marinette's ebony hair fell from behind her ear and hung in front of her face. Scooping it back where it belonged, she straitened up, looking back at Alya. “Last I checked, I have never had a guy interested in me like that, so how could I become of interest to, basically, the most popular teenager in our school?” she asked honestly.
“Has anyone ever asked out Adrien?” Alya countered.
“I don’t know— but that’s probably because they’re too scared to!” Marinette laughed, picturing a nervous wreck of a girl asking Adrien out. Yeah, like I’m any different, she noted to herself.
“Bingo!” Alya shouted, grabbing Marinette by the shoulders and forcing her to face her. “You’re gorgeous girl, boys are just too scared to ask you!”
“That must be why,” Marinette all but muttered. She shrugged out of Alya’s grip, “Listen, as much as I’d love to have a dance with Adrien, I don’t think I’d be able to ask him,” she offered Alya her best smile, “But maybe!”
“Trust me,” Alya grins. “Anyway,” she continues, changing the subject, “Did you understand the lesson in history, today? I’m hopeless!”
Marinette laughed, “And you call me distracted, you practically fell asleep in history, if I do so recall.”
“It’s just so boring! It’s the same thing, again and again!”
“It’s probably because they were like you and didn’t care to learn history,” she scolded playfully, “If you don’t know your history, you’re bound to repeat it.”
“Well that’s what I’ll be doing next year if you don’t help me!” Alya complained.
“Relax, relax, you’ll pass, I’ll help you, okay?” Marinette snickered, approaching her family's bakery. “Care for a snack before hand?” she asked.
Grabbing the glass door, she paused momentarily and gazed at her reflection, But Marinette? No chance.
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