in case you haven’t noticed, i’m weird. i’m a weirdo. i don’t fit in. something is very, very wrong with me. there’s this darkness in me, that’s overwhelming sometimes and i don’t know where it comes from.
When it comes to history, the first pairing that comes to mind for me is this tragic combo that I call my OTP.
Spain and Austria had a complicated marriage. How could it not be, considering the times? But I like to think that they loved each other passionately and there were a lot of tender moments in their union.
One of these moments might have been that Austria’s cross necklace was actually a gift from Spain. But not just any gift - It meant the world to him, because it had belonged to someone very important for Antonio and was actually a “pair” necklace to his own.
"I'm sorry but that's just not your colour." Marichat?
“I’m sorry,” Chat Noir said, pursing his lips, “but that’s just not your color.”
Marinette looked down at the tangerine dress and sighed. “Believe me, I know.”
“I mean, you’re beautiful but this is just…just…”
Marinette slumped down on the couch. “There are going to be so many pictures. I’ll have to remember this dress for the rest of my life.”
“I thought Alya had better taste than this. At least the groomsmen get to wear a green…” Chat Noir’s voice trailed off and his eyes widened.
Marinette blinked up at him. “You’re…you’re in the wedding?”
“Because just now it sounded like you’re in the wedding,” she accused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Chat Noir took a few steps back, hand reaching behind him to search for the balcony door. Marinette stood to stop him too quickly, tripping over the hem of the dress. Chat Noir moved forward to catch her, her cheek pressing against his chest. “Easy, Princess.”
“Nino only has three groomsmen,” she said quietly.
Chat Noir sighed and helped her straighten. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Marinette blinked and cleared her throat. “Right. Sorry. Secret Identity.”
“I mean, if you want to know…” He trailed off, looking to the side.
She tilted her head, studying him. “You would tell me?”
He nodded, returning his attention to her. “I know I can trust you. I’ll tell you if you really want me to.”
“Do you want me to know?”
“A little bit,” he admitted.
“And then what?”
Chat Noir frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, would it make things weird between us?”
“I don’t…I don’t think so. Why? Do you think it would be weird?”
“I don’t know. We’ve been friends for years but this is the only way I’ve known you. Will it be like meeting a stranger?” Marinette worried her bottom lip.
“No,” he whispered. “I’m not a stranger.”
“Right,” she nodded. “Wedding party.” She squeezed her eyes shut, cheeks going pink. “You’re not Max,” she said firmly.
“No, not Max.”
She opened one eye. “And you’re not Nathaniel.”
He shook his head. “Not Nathaniel.”
Marinette examined the ground for a few moments before looking back up at him with a small smile. “Hi, Adrien.”