Worth The Wait - Chat Noir x Fem!Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE - Blinded by the Lights

"Always."

Word Count: 1271

The brush swept across my closed eyes in small purposeful strokes, painting the lid black. The eyeliner glides along my inner corner and a gentle wing along the lash line sharpens my eye shape. I bit on the inside of my cheeks in an attempt not to fidget and ruin the makeup. A light veneer of blush coats my cheekbones, just enough to tint the skin. The outline of my lips are lined in a brown and a neutral shade is swiped across my lips, blended with a small brush.

I open my eyes tentatively as the makeup artist steps back, her face furrowing in concentration as she examines her handiwork. She murmurs a few words under her breath and nods slightly, her eyes shifting to mine in a small gesture of acknowledgement.

A separate woman steps forward bearing her hair products and tools, followed by another. When I undress, her eyes narrow at the numerous marks along my skin. After last night, my body aches with an abundance of small wounds: scratches, hickeys and bruises. I clench my thighs against the blossoming hand prints pressed into the skin with a sheepish smile, the feeling of his body against mine still fresh.

"Got into any trouble last night?" She crosses her arms disapprovingly, her tone retaining a sarcastic drawl. My dress and other garments hang from a hanger dangling off her extended fingertips. Her assistant murmurs to herself in mild agreement, smiling knowingly as she gives me the hanger.

"Mhm." I murmured, my eyes finding hers.

She purses her lips, keeping her voice steady. "Any... details?"

"A model never reveals her secrets." I stick my tongue out and take the hanger, sliding the curtain behind me with a flourish as a small chorus of disappointed noises erupt.

Minutes later, I step out with a confident smile. I pose dramatically and the women click their tongues at me, circling me to make minor adjustments. After all, they can't leave my battered skin looking littered with numerous lewd bruises. My head pounds and I gently massage my throbbing temples in an attempt to remedy the incessant pain. The thought that I'll soon leave the comfort of the darkness to greet a sea of cameras makes my heart pound against my ribcage. After the last tweak to my look, I wait in the wings to make my debut.

And then it's my time.

I step in the light and the world falls silent.

My hair is coiffed in an elaborate updo that leaves some free ringlets to fall at my neck. A few strategically placed strands frame my face. Pearls tightly bind my neck, shimmering in the light from the camera flashes. My white dress, lined by black lace, is tightened around my waist yet flares out from a black sash garnished by a white rose. My hands firmly press into my sides, hidden behind matching lace gloves each with a rose. As I briskly sashay down the catwalk, the lighter fabric gathered around my forearms and settled in the seam of my elbows blows behind me.

In a sea of teeming reporters and photographers, I recognize a familiar blonde. Clapping politely with a proud smile.

Adrien.

He's really here.

Our eyes meet for a second as I scan the crowd and my heartbeat pounds against the tight corset. The ringing in my ears falls away to the adrenaline, soothed by the blood rushing in my ears. And suddenly I'm light. Carefree. I can't feel anything but the euphoria that floods my senses and blinds me of my hangover.

His eyes softened as his smile widened.

Dimples.

Despite the unprofessional smile that threatens to spill across my carefully painted features, I maintain a blank face. But there's a light in my fiery eyes and I surpass the other model with renewed energy. My hips sway exaggeratedly as I walk, my feet placed precariously in front of each other with the grace and cunning of a fox. I spin on my heel and blow the crowd a cheeky kiss before resuming my walk back into the darkness I arose from.

–

When I leave my dressing room dressed in relatively 'normal' clothes, he's waiting for me with a patient smile.

"You came." I can't stop a natural smile from gliding across my face. "How did you know I had a show today?"

Adrien says my name softly in an incredulous tone as if he's almost confused by my humble sentiment. "When you're as famous as you are, these kinds of things are never kept secret. Eventually, the cat gets out of the bag."

Adrien shrugs and I narrow my eyes slightly at the pun. It's all too familiar. "Interesting choice of words."

His green eyes widened slightly. "Wh–"

Click.

The camera flash nearly blinded me as my name was shouted. A microphone was thrust into my face, lightly grazing my lips. "Any comments on your relationship status?"

Adrien tilted his head toward the microphone as if in encouragement, gesturing for me to answer with a curious glint in his eyes. "Thanks for letting me take that," I muttered under my breath drily.

"Any time," he responded back with an equally sarcastic drawl.

I turned back to the microphone, wiping my face of any emotion. "No comment."

Undeterred, the reporter hastily read from shorthand scrawl in a pocket notebook. She pushed her spectacles up with a finger, her eyebrows screwing slightly in concentration as the voices of other reporters overlapped.

"The both of you have been making appearances at runways together, even starring in a magazine together. Fans are already dubbing your partnership signs of a blooming 'power couple'. Is this strictly professional or is there a relationship sparking there?"

Adrien flashed her a dazzling fake smile, pushing the microphone away with a finger. "If you'll excuse us, we have somewhere to be."

His fingers tightened on my waist protectively and he guided me away from the paparazzi. My heels clicked against the cool tile and I'm grateful for the stability. I leaned into the warmth of his body, fighting a sly smile at the slipping of his calm façade. It seems the paparazzi were an annoyance.

"You shouldn't have done that." I leaned over, whispering into his ear. "You know they'll be going crazy over this, right?"

"We have nothing to hide." The blonde shrugged. "They can only speculate. There's no real evidence for anything."

We fall into a gentle silence before I speak again. "So... where are you taking me?"

"One of my favorite places to eat." Adrien glanced at me quickly, looking proud of himself. "It's the best bakery in the city. I think you'll like it."

Adrien opened the door for me, earning a raised eyebrow. I blinked at the darkness, used to the artificial lighting of the corridor. "What's all this for?"

"Celebrating your successful shoot. You looked really good up there."

Adrien opened the door to his limo and I slid in, biting down to hide the smile tugging at my lips. Storefronts blurred past the window in flashes of dull lighting and brick. I tapped a finger against the glass, seeing a familiar brand name.

"I modeled there once." I glanced out the window mournfully then back over my shoulder at him. He's already staring so I look away. "I wore the cutest shoes but I never got to keep them."

"Let's go in." Adrien looked darkly at the storefront, gesturing for the driver to stop the car. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "After you."

"How chivalrous of you, Agreste."
His smile nearly glowed in the dark. "Always."