Chapter Text
She hesitantly nodded before realizing he couldn’t actually see her.
“...Yeah.”
With that, she had sealed her fate; whatever that may be.
After the call had been disconnected, Damian loosed a deep breath and tried to prepare for the inevitable.
Undoubtedly, Marinette had found his wi-fi password. There was nothing else she could have meant. He suddenly regretted everything.
Worse, this meant there was no hiding it; it being his romantic feelings for Marinette. Judging by her behavior both on the phone and her presumed panic at the sound of his arrival earlier, she had already made the connection.
He’d never intended to actually reveal his feelings to her, or anyone , really, but he figured luck just wasn’t on his side.
Since he'd just gotten back from Titus's walk, he figured he should at least change his shirt, and not at all because he was stalling for time. Having no other excuses to bide his time, he walked out his front door and locked it (despite only going next door, he'd be damned if he gave Gotham an inch).
He gave a curt knock on Marinette's door out of courtesy, and waited, feeling like a man on death row. The sound of soft, hesitant footsteps beyond her door only spiked his heart rate further.
The door first opened just a crack as the very nervous, unmistakable, Bluebell eyes of Marinette Dupain-Cheng peeked up at him through her lashes. And just like that, Damian's insides turned to goo and he couldn't help the absolutely besotted smile that took over his features. In that moment, he couldn't have denied her anything in the world.
"Marinette."
When Marinette finally looked up at Damian through the crack of her door, the sight she saw left her weak in the knees. Damian was looking directly at her with the most gentle eyes she'd ever seen from him. Even her most prevalent insecurities couldn't mistake that look for anything other than pure affection.
The way he breathed her name, without any trace of expectation, as though her name belonged on his tongue, finally pushed her over the edge and she broke down.
At the sight of Marinette's tears, Damian sprung forward, easing into her apartment to hold her. He had just enough foresight to close the door behind him and maneuver them both to her living room sofa.
It had been so long since Marinette had really felt anything, let alone felt wanted. Her traitorous thoughts demanded that she clarify what that look meant, but all she wanted was to cry and feel safe in his arms a little longer.
Damian, on the other hand, was woefully inexperienced with comforting anyone, especially so physically, but he knew he didn't want to let her go. He could feel her tears making a mess of his shirt, and yet it only made him want to hold her tighter as she trembled and shook in his arms. He may not have had first-hand experience with trying to comfort someone, but at the very least, he knew this was about more than just him.
He could feel the agony falling off of Marinette's positively tiny figure in waves, and so he waited.
After what may have been hours or only minutes, Marinette had finally cried herself out but she didn't move from the warmth of Damian's embrace; didn't have the strength to. Instead, she let her head fall to the side, cushioned by one of Damian's biceps and looked up into his face.
What she saw was a soft concern and a distinct lack of irritation like she feared she might find. In lieu of words, Damian's other hand came up to brush stray strands of hair from her wet face and gently cup her jaw. She should have tensed when she felt his warm breath suddenly a few centimeters from her face, but just as quickly as she had the thought, a feather-light kiss was pressed to her forehead and she let out a weak, breathless giggle.
When she looked back up at him, a completely serene and entirely foreign smile graced Damian's features. She let herself bask in the quiet of the intimate moment just a little longer before she finally whispered "Thank you," too afraid to break whatever bubble they were in together.
At the sound of her tiny voice, Damian just nodded and they fell back into silence, still wrapped up together.
Eventually, the gnawing of Marinette's insecurities and anxious thoughts barreled back into her and she mourned the loss of the quiet in her head. She knew she had to say something and try to explain her sudden breakdown.
Despite it being months since she had settled into this new life and unwittingly made herself a place in Damian's life, she'd never really spoken about her time in Paris; she hadn't even let herself think about it. Now, though, she couldn't sweep it under the rug like usual. She owed it to Damian to open up. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was still terrified of being rejected, of being brushed off, even after he'd proven in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't judge her.
Still securely sat within the circle of Damian's arms, she spoke about the horrors of Hawkmoth for the very first time since leaving her home. Not once did Damian interrupt her, ask for clarification, or utter a single sound until she finished.
"No one really ever got over what Hawkmoth did to them. We all knew that akumas were just victims, but the guilt of letting him win never goes away, either," she murmured at the end.
Damian was already somewhat aware of the situation in Paris over the last few years, but hearing a firsthand account was altogether a more frustrating experience. The JLA had been barred from intervening by the JLE and Wonder Woman herself who had made contact with the Parisian hero Ladybug. There was something about a legacy mantle, but the end result was that this was not the Bats' battle.
Looking at Marinette now, barely keeping herself together, Damian regretted not doing more.
"You're Ladybug," it was a statement.
Marinette didn't even have it in her to be surprised. Of course he would have figured it out after hearing her talk. It was something of a relief that he just understood. All these years and no one in her life had ever understood.
Her head wearily resting on his bicep, she weakly bobbed her head in some semblance of a nod. His response was the near imperceptible tightening of his arms around her. She could feel new tears stinging at her already puffy eyes. Apparently, it didn't go unnoticed by Damian as he gently coaxed her to rest her head on his chest; her tears silently soaking through the soft cotton of his shirt for the second time that day.
"Damian?" she spoke mostly into his chest.
His answering hum reverberated through his chest and made her shiver.
Turning her head just enough so she could peek up at him, she continued.
"...Sorry i figured out your wi-fi password."
He blinked and felt a grin stretch his lips before he let out a snort.
"I'm glad you did, Sunshine," he punctuated by pressing his lips to her hairline.
"Does this mean…?"
"That you are a special existence to me? It does. I regret to admit that it was actually Kent's doing and not mine, but I never changed it, either. I adore you, Marinette, as I've never adored anyone else."
A brilliant flush bloomed across her cheeks at that and the smile that followed it actually hurt her cheeks.
"I'm glad the feeling's mutual, Dami."
As they sat entwined together, feeling worlds away from just that morning, as if the entire world had shifted, Marinette drifted off in Damian's arms.
"Sleep well, Angel."
When next she opened her eyes, Marinette couldn't quite orient herself but vaguely recognized the warmth of a blanket around her shoulders.
Blearily blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she was assaulted by a hammering headache and the telltale stinging of bloodshot eyes.
Suddenly, she remembered her talk with Damian.
Forcing her exhausted eyes open, she scanned the room and found that she was in her own bedroom, sitting under her own comforters. There was a distinct absence of a second person in her room, however. Fighting down the anxiety and disappointment of Damian's absence, she got to her feet and padded out to the hallway.
When she reached the threshold of her kitchen, she heard the sounds of her door being unlocked from the outside. Peeking into her living room, she saw Damian step through her front door, key in hand.
Their eyes met and he smiled lopsidedly at her, holding up a small paper bag.
"I fell asleep."
He nodded.
"Sorry."
At that, he gave her an indecipherable look and closed the door behind him. He walked the rest of the distance to the kitchen and set the bag on her counter.
"It's just after lunch but I wasn't sure how long you'd be out. I picked up some croissants from the cafe down the street."
Just like that, her butterflies were back. She had to look down to avoid his gaze but there was no hiding the blush adorning her cheeks.
She reached out to curl her fingers around his.
"...Thank you," she murmured.
It wasn't the croissants she was referring to.
She gestured for him to have a seat at her small table and went about preparing mugs and her kettle for tea.
She'd apparently only been out for a little over an hour, which was a relief in itself, but also brought her attention to Titus and his lunchtime walk. He told her he'd just gotten back from the walk that afternoon and they continued their small talk while the kettle boiled.
Black tea (with milk and sugar for Marinette) and croissants having been shared, Marinette braced herself to broach the topic she really wanted to discuss.
"I-I really like you, Damian. R-Romantically, I mean. Um. I just wanna know where we go from here… Um, what happens now?"
Despite her attempts to tamp down her nerves, she couldn't help but twiddle her thumbs as she spoke. Logically she knew Damian wasn't uninterested in her, but when had logic ever comforted her anxious mind?
Outwardly calm, yet undoubtedly nervous to Marinette's appraising eyes, Damian clasped his hands in front of him.
"Marinette, I don't think I could fool either of us if I said I didn't want us to be more than friends."
The only tell of his trepidation was his thumb running over the other one while he spoke.
"You are a whirlwind, Marinette. I don't keep many relationships in my life, but I find myself drawn to you. You invade my idle thoughts and though I would find anyone else a bother, I enjoy your presence more than anyone else. I want you to be with me."
For all that she thought she had moved past the life-altering revelations, Damian's words rattled her still frayed nerves and she felt tears welling up again.
Unwilling to be upstaged by yet more tears, Marinette found her voice.
"I-I have trouble getting close to people after… after moving here. I think I forgot that I needed to deal with everything that happened. I'm still scared of trusting other people. But with you… I've never felt pressured to be someone when I'm with you. I feel… like I can breathe . What I mean… is that I feel like I can be myself with you."
She forced herself to maintain eye contact with him even as her brain screamed at her to run away and hide. She owed it to him, to be as honest about her feelings as he'd been.
"I don't know when it started, but I always find myself thinking about you. I get happy when I think that your smiles are just for me and I don't know if that's selfish or not. Damian, I-I… I'm in love with you!"
She couldn't hold back her tears anymore at that point and felt the heat of them fall down her face. For the first time in so many years, Marinette knew what she wanted and even fear couldn't stand in her way.
Even as her voice wobbled and her vision blurred, she pressed on.
"I want to be your girlfriend, Damian!"
His name came out more as a hiccup than anything else but before she could completely fall apart, he was at her side again.
Taking one of her small, trembling hands in his, Damian touched his forehead to hers and made sure she couldn't look away as he smiled a heartbreakingly open smile just for her.
"I love you, Marinette. Please be my girlfriend."
She attempted a watery smile but instead burst into another round of sobs, burying her wet face into the crook of his neck, nodding her head frantically all the while.
Damian wrapped his other arm around her and held her protectively to his chest, rubbing comforting circles on her back and pressing kisses to her hair until her sobs dissolved into hiccups. When she finally looked up at him again, her smile was so fragile but hopeful as she glanced down at his lips. He was all too eager to oblige.
There, in her dimly lit kitchen, with Damian kneeling in front of her, their lips met.
Marinette's first kiss tasted like warm butter and tears.