Fake It ('Til you make it)

Red String (Adrien)

Adrien moved about his old bedroom with the slow, deliberate walk of a cat deciding whether to jump on the couch or chase a sunbeam. He was anxious and irritated...and thinking he'd made a grave mistake.

But he'd always been one to think after acting.

When he'd come up with this plan, approximately 0.25 seconds after Marinette had first kissed him, he'd seen himself as romantic and this decade's Mr Darcy. However, he may have gone from 0 to 100 a little too fast, even if he was her GILTSMELWAHAHB.

His hand went straight to the red string tied tightly around his wrist, his fingers caressing the smooth yellow, pink and green plastic objects and thinking of Marinette. So what if they'd only kissed a couple of times? Their relationship was more than physical. It was deep on an emotional level...at least, that's what he told himself. Was it possible for a relationship to work if it fell flat physically?

Wait? What was he thinking! They worked together amazingly, so the physical aspect should just fall into place.

A prickling sensation began on his hands and on the back of his neck. What if she was into the whole 'try before you buy' idea? What was he supposed to do then? He supposed he could just run over there and give her a taster, see what she thought and then take it from there?

No! No! NO! What the hell was he thinking?

He moved to the sofa and heavily dropped onto the seat. The seat that, only a couple of weeks ago, he and Marinette had fallen asleep on, all cuddled up and cosy, after winning the blackout quiz night. A thrill sent shivers down his spine at the thought of the almost kisses, his lips tingling as he thought about when he could kiss her again. At the altar. As his wife!

He looked at his watch. It would only be a matter of hours, if he was lucky.

Sabine should be doing her Mother-of-the-Bride job now, helping to convince Marinette this was a good idea, and not just because of the house, but because they loved each other. And they did - so damn much!

But this was a huge step without preparation, and he knew exactly how much Marinette liked to plan. He'd taken everything away from her. The chance to make her own dress, the venue, flowers, his suit... It wouldn't be amiss if she never spoke to him again.

He just had to hope those drawings, her words and that kiss were the indication that 'yes' she wanted him too. Because there was no one else for him. He'd tried and failed. Ladybug — Marinette — was his only option. The only woman he wanted, and the one he needed.

Time was ticking on and he had only hours until his wife would be taking on life by his side — he had to believe in this.

Standing again, he paced to where his suit hung on the window before taking a glance outside into the garden. A marquee had been erected again in the garden, a dance floor once more gracing the presence of the swimming pool. The only difference this time was the rows of white chairs scattering over the grass and down towards a frame of beautiful red roses.

People milled around the area, arms full of everything from flowers to cutlery, bottles of water and napkin rings. Everyone with a job to do, only putting his nerves even more on edge.

His hand returned to his charm bracelet, his eyes following only moments later. He could still remember the day she gave it to him - how it was the first time in a long time that someone had given him something heartfelt. It was as though Marinette had willingly given a piece of herself over to him that day, even though they'd only been friends for little more than a month. She'd trusted him with it, and he hadn't taken it likely.

That small red string, decorated in weird and wonderful objects, had become a safety blanket for him. When he had that on, he could defeat the world. It was a tiny piece of her to carry in his pocket, one that had fixed firmly in his heart.