I really. I couldn't. I just couldn't help myself. Sorry not sorry!

I spent way too long looking up ways to make people uncomfortable.

Song: Stalker - Goldfinger

AU: None, except maybe a lesser importance on the miraculous

Genre: Romance/Humor/WritingForFunWithoutANecessaryPlot

Summary: Marinette's got some odd habits when it comes to Adrien, but he comes to realize that she just struggles to express herself in a non-sketchy way.

Notes: Marinette's crush on Adrien in the show is actually mad unhealthy lmao. OH WELL. Gave me a chance to write this and I had fun. I love this song. (Legit stalking is serious, though, guys, don't be creeps).

Marinette was not a stalker. A fact of fervent, absolute, positive need to be expressed. Because nobody believed her. Sure, okay, she knew his schedule better than her own. And fine, she might occasionally have let herself into his house when the need arose. Perhaps, every once in a while, she followed him around to see who he was meeting with. In disguise.

But Marinette was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a stalker.

She was a girl in love.

Tuesday night at one in the morning, she lay in bed staring at his picture. One of the many she collected under her mattress. Luminescent green eyes, a smile she could simply, that she could just... kiss for days. Mm.

Eyes roving over his handsome features, she knew she just had to hear his voice. Just one word, just one syllable would be enough to sate her for the night. She could pull up a video of him, she had several in store, but she wanted a live reaction.

Slowly, in foretaste of his luxurious timbre, she tugged her phone out.

Number one on speed dial, she pressed her thumb to the send button. Softly, she set the phone to her ear, breath picking up in anticipation. He might have been sleeping already, since Tuesdays weren't his busy days. Fridays, he had fencing. Monday: Chinese. Wednesdays were basketball. And, technically, it was now Wednesday. He would need his beauty sleep to keep his body in perfect health.

And it was perfect.

To her absolute delight, the ringing halted. Groggy, probably summoned from the depths of sleep by her call, he mumbled into the phone. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine he was there, wispy breath against her ear. So she did.

"Marinette?"

She hung up.

Marinette was… a friend. Though, when he put it into words, it tended to end in a question. She was sweet, stood up for the people she cared about, and was undeniably very talented.

But to be absolutely frank, Adrien was a little more than concerned.

He let a good deal of it slip because, well, it was Marinette. That's just how she was. Clumsy, awkward, unable to take a solid percentage of social cues. He was new to this friend thing, and struggled sometimes, so he didn't want to jump the gun and assume the worst of her. Maybe she struggled, just like him. Just, well, in an entirely different way.

He felt eyes. Two points from which extended the tentacles of obsession. Adrien sucked in a breath, darting a peek behind him. He met her stare, and she froze, eyes wide as the sun. Not wanting to make a scene, and honestly not sure what to do in response anyway, he pivoted back around to the front of the classroom.

The sensation of being watched dissipated, so he continued on with his notes as if nothing had happened. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. In fact, just five minutes later, it happened again. He didn't turn, though, just let her be. In some weird way, he didn't hate the attention.

But the midnight calls had to stop.

Once class ended, Adrien tucked everything away in his bag and stood, stretching the numbness from his back. Contentedly, he sighed, slumping back down until his hand bumped into somebody. "Oh, sorry," he blurted, turning his head in the person's direction.

Marinette. She just stared, cheeks darkening to a soft pink. He would have shifted back if he weren't already against the desk. She was standing awfully close. After a moment's hesitation, she managed to form her lips around an answer. "It's okay. I like it when you touch me."

Aahahaha. Okay.

His adam's apple bobbed against an awkward swallow, and he watched her eyes drop to his throat. "Cool. Hey, so, I have to go." Then, because despite it all he still wanted to believe she wasn't trying to be weird, "See you later, Marinette."

Marinette was here for business. Strict, pure, no nonsense business. Ladybug business, even. After all, Ladybug had sworn to uphold all heroic duties of a certain nature. Under which a lost scarf certainly qualified.

Slowly, practiced fingers unlatching the window, she slid into his room.

It was dark, as was natural for ten at night. Earlier at school, he had expressed his dismay at misplacing the scarf his father gave him. The one she made him, but he still didn't know about that. The sheer dampness in his mood tore her apart. Ripped her atriums clean of their ventricles.

As soon as she was free for the day, she set out to find it. It took hours of backtracking his known whereabouts, but she found it. Tangled up in the low hanging branches of a park tree, likely stolen by one of the day's strong gusts of wind.

Folding it with the utmost care, she made her way to set it on his desk. Heart beating fast, her gaze settled on his sleeping form. He looked so at peace in his sleep, so unburdened by the sadness he usually kept hidden behind his eyes. She bit her lip, watching the soft movement of his chest with an intensity that could just make her eyes bleed. And she wouldn't even mind.

Travelling her attention up to his face, she paused on his lips. They looked a little dry, wanting for a touch of something moist. An urge came over her to lick them for him. But he probably wouldn't sleep through that, and she was there for a reason. Some reason, though it seemed lost on her now.

Right. Scarf. Quiet, not wanting to wake him, she put it down next to the keyboard. After a moment's contemplation, she pulled a pen and paper from where she already knew he kept them. 'Marinette,' she signed, with a heart. She refused to forget this time, to let him know that he was on her mind.

On her way out, she stopped at the foot of his bed. Rhythmically, because everything he did was in perfect tandem, his slow breaths made gentle attempts at moving the blanket. A whisper, a faint tumble off of her tongue, she spoke from the heart. "I love the way you breathe."

Marinette was making a habit. It started innocently enough, handing him a macaron before moving on to hand out more to everyone else. Coincidence, obviously, that it was passion fruit. And the next time. And the time after that.

By the time he was the only one getting them, he kind of knew it wasn't so much coincidence as a deliberate effort to gift him. Not that he was complaining. Who would complain about passion fruit macarons fresh from the best bakery in Paris?

However, the special treatment, the phone calls, the staring. The mysterious appearance of his scarf in his room. He was beginning to doubt the logic of going on as if everything were normal here. If she didn't know she was being awkward, she should probably be alerted to it.

At the bottom of the steps to school, the afternoon sun warming his shoulders, he waited for Nino to pass by. He managed to smuggle a few minutes away from his driver, but he still didn't have a whole lot of time to talk this out.

Finally, his friend appeared, grinning when he noticed the elusive happening of Adrien lingering after school. "Hey, don't tell me you have the day off."

Wincing, Adrien shook his head. "No, just a couple minutes. I actually uh… I wanted to ask about Marinette."

For some reason, that locked Nino up. He straightened like he'd been ruler-slapped. "Ah, uh, Marinette? What about her? I mean uh, Marinette who? I don't know any Marinettes, especially none who like you. Or don't!" He paused, taking in Adrien's squished features. "Or, who are we talking about again?"

Nino, at least, kept him from believing sometimes that Marinette was a special kind of socially inept. His gaze slid to the left, where The Gorilla glared at him. He was running out of time, so he would just have to ignore whatever… all that was that just came from Nino's mouth. "Look, Marinette calls me in the middle of the night and then hangs up without saying anything, she stares at me, like, all the time. Shows up at my photoshoots and practices. I think she's been in my room while I was sleeping."

Ever helpful, Nino blinked. Adrien lifted his eyebrows, but all he got in return was a pair of brown eyes sliding away to the side.

"Nino. Is that normal? Does she do that with everyone?"

"Yeah, so, I'm gonna go. Alya's staring me down and, well, you know how girlfriends are."

"Nino."

He was already running off. "Can't talk about it!"

Marinette was in trouble. She sat on her rug, not even allowed the comfort of her chaise. Standing in front of her, an imposing figure, Alya tapped her fingers on her hips. "What am I going to do with you?"

The thing was, she didn't know what she was in trouble for. Alya showed up, marched up the stairs, and prompted Marinette to plop herself on the floor. She opened her mouth to ask about it, but Alya held out a finger and wagged it in her face.

"Alright so the schedule? The pictures? The staring? I could handle letting you have that. Hesitantly, but I get it. But you're getting out of hand."

Shrinking, Marinette pursed her lips up at the glint off of suddenly intimidating glasses. "What do you mean?"