Chapter Text
The rest of the school day hadn't gone any better for Marinette. She was too up in her own head to pay much attention in any of her classes, which wouldn't have been too bad if she didn't have the misfortune of being called on in class no less than three times that day. Each time she had absolutely no idea what was being asked, and to add insult to injury, her stutter was acting up as well. Part of her wondered if Mme. Mendeleiev got a kick out of watching her stammer through half hearted answers. More likely she could just tell when Marinette wasn't paying attention.
Thankfully, Adrien hadn't tried to talk to her after classes or in the hallways anymore that day, although Marinette couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. Maybe he was fed up with trying to talk to her; he was tired of trying to be her friend. At least she hadn't made even more of a fool of herself in front of him. The few times she had dared to glance towards him in class, he seemed to be in a good mood, if a bit distracted. That was good, right?
Nevertheless, the final bell for the day rang, and Marinette packed up her bag to head home. She wasn't feeling particularly up to hanging out with anyone after school, so she waved goodbye to Alya and briskly walked out of the classroom and into the courtyard, eager to get home and curl up in bed. Hopefully she could just take some time to herself to decompress after a very stressful day, before getting back to the mountain of homework that was waiting for her. She was really, really hoping that there wouldn't be an akuma alert today. But if the veritable storm in her head as she walked out of the school and onto the front steps was any indication, being alone with her thoughts wasn't going to be very restful after all.
Ugh, what is wrong with me? the shy girl thought, eyes downcast and hands tightly gripping the straps of her backpack. I looked like such a fool in front of him this morning. And worse, I could hardly look at him the rest of the day! Alya's right, I'm only making things worse by avoiding him. He probably thinks I hate him now, and all because I can't figure out how to say a single sentence around him. Oh, this is a disaster, a total disa-
"Marinette!"
The girl turned to see who had called her, only to find it was Adrien! He was holding up his hand as if to say "wait," and jogging down the front steps of the school towards her. Marinette’s eyes widened in shock, then anticipation, then fear. She was sure she was going to mess this up again, but part of her was so excited that Adrien was talking to her that she forgot to feel scared. She didn't have long to think over all the possible ways this interaction could go wrong; in a moment Adrien was standing in front of her, grinning broadly and only slightly out of breath from running to catch up.
"A-Adrien you... I-I mean, h-h-hi! Uh, um, what's it going? No, wait! Uh, how's up..no, that wasn't it either! I- uh..."
Adrien measly smiled and held up a finger, signaling for her to give him a moment. Marinette’s rambling attempt at a casual greeting came to a halt as she stared at him, unsure of what he would say next but enraptured by his sparkling, green eyes. But Adrien didn't speak. Rather, the whole world seemed to slow and fall away leaving just the two of them, and Adrien brought his hands up and started to move them in fluid, deliberate gestures, all while looking her directly in the eye. It was odd, but the girl couldn't have cared less in that moment; she just felt warm and fluttery watching him smile at her.
The spell wasn't broken until Adrien stopped moving, but kept looking at her, as if waiting for a response. In that moment, Marinette felt her mood fall and shatter like glass as she realized three things. First, Adrien was signing at her. Second, she had not been paying enough attention to the actual motions he made to be able to interpret them. And third, it wouldn't have made a difference even if she had paid attention, because Marinette didn't know sign language.
***
Adrien wasn't sure the exact reaction he was expecting when he tried signing to Marinette instead of speaking verbally. In the best case, maybe her face would light up and she would start signing back. They would finally be able to have a full conversation and he'd have another friend! In less perfect outcomes, she might have just as much trouble signing as speaking with him, or tell him. Or maybe he would mess up the little speech he had planned and it would make her laugh. Even if that happened, he felt pretty sure it wouldn't be mean spirited, so that would be ok. Maybe she would politely tell him she preferred speaking and that would be that, no harm but no improvement. Or maybe, in the worst case, she'd just look away, upset at him trying yet another way to communicate with her when she so clearly wished he would take the hint and leave her alone. While Adrien didn't really think that would happen, a small part of his mind couldn't shake the feeling that the simplest explanation of Marinette couldn't seem to talk to him was that she didn't want to.
Nonetheless, as he finished his short message ("Hello Marinettte. I know you have trouble talking sometimes. Would you like to sign instead?"), Adrien was not expecting her expression to go from dazed to a look of abject horror. Had he messed his signing up that badly and accidentally said something offensive?
After 15 painful second of Marinette staring at him, terrified, Adrien was about to speak up and clear the air, but he was interrupted (and, frankly, a bit thrown off guard) when Marinette shakily pointed both of her index finger at him (which he remembered Nino calling "finger-guns") and flashing a cheesy grin while saying, "Right back atcha'!"
'Right back atcha'? What does that even mean in this context? Adrien wasn't always the best at picking up social cues, but even he could tell by the twitch in Marinette’s eyes that her smile wasn't genuine. She was clearly uncomfortable. God, I really messed up my signs. Am I that rusty? What did I even say to her?
His thinking and her grimacing were both interrupted by the blaring sound of a nearby car horn. They both turned to see a silver sedan with Adrien’s bodyguard at the wheel, looking at the two of them expectantly while his hand hovered above the horn. Right, time to go. Adrien turned back towards Marinette and shrugged, the edge of his mouth dropping in an apologetic smile. “I’ve, uh... I’ve got to go.” Marinette’s eyes dropped to the ground and her hand rubbed absentmindedly at her opposite arm. “Um, see you tomorrow!” Adrien added as he ran off to the car before his bodyguard honked the horn again.
As Adrien got in the back of the car, he looked out the window to see Marinette planting her face in one of her palms and shaking her head. Clearly his plan had not worked.