Chapter 9: Fractured Armor

Marinette woke slowly, her mind caught between dreams and reality as she registered the warmth cocooned around her. Her eyes fluttered open to the soft morning light streaming through the windows, painting the room in shades of amber. She felt... safe. Rested, almost, despite the tension that had hung between her and Felix the night before. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this kind of calm, not on a mission, and certainly not with him.

As she shifted, her fingers brushed the edge of her blanket, which was tucked snugly around her shoulders. A frown flickered across her face. She distinctly remembered going to sleep with it barely covering her; she'd been too tired to bother arranging it properly, especially with Felix's relentless teasing gnawing at her nerves. Yet somehow, it was neatly wrapped around her, its soft warmth chasing away the morning chill.

It couldn't have been...she thought, the realization making her cheeks flush slightly.

Marinette sat up, quickly shaking off the thought. She had no intention of letting herself be sidetracked by whatever gallant impulse Felix might have had in the middle of the night. Her rival—or rather, partner —was nothing if not full of surprises, but she'd be a fool to let herself get swept up in whatever brief moment of chivalry he might have felt.

Pushing the blanket aside, she stood and stretched, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to clear her mind. She needed to stay focused. This mission had layers she hadn't fully anticipated, and one misplaced trust in Felix could mean failure. Or worse.

But that strange tug in her chest was still there, a faint echo of something warm and unguarded that made her want to lean in rather than pull away. No. Stay sharp, she reminded herself, forcing her thoughts to settle. Felix was her partner by necessity, not by choice, and certainly not by desire.

As if on cue, the door to the suite creaked open, and Felix stepped inside, looking just as composed and maddeningly confident as he always did. His blond hair caught the morning light, giving him an almost casual elegance that seemed unfairly natural. He glanced over at her, his gaze unreadable but warm.

"Good morning," he said smoothly, his voice carrying that faint hint of amusement she'd come to recognize. "Sleep well?"

She forced herself to look unfazed, lifting her chin. "Fine, thank you. And you? I'm guessing the couch was up to your usual high standards?"

He chuckled, shrugging lightly as he crossed the room. "Let's just say I've slept in worse places. Besides, it gave me a chance to keep an eye on you."

Her brow shot up. "Keep an eye on me? What, were you worried I'd sneak off in the middle of the night?"

"Only if you felt the need to flee," he replied, his eyes glinting with that subtle challenge she'd grown so used to. But there was something different about the way he looked at her this morning—softer, as if he'd seen some part of her she hadn't meant to reveal.

Her cheeks warmed again, and she quickly turned away, focusing on the breakfast tray that room service had delivered earlier. She reached for a cup of coffee, trying to mask her flustered reaction as she poured herself a drink.

He walked over to join her, silently taking the second cup as if it were the most natural thing in the world. For a few moments, they stood side by side, the silence settling between them as they each sipped their coffee. Marinette's mind raced, trying to focus on the mission, on their cover as a married couple, anything to keep herself from analyzing the odd sensation of Felix standing so close, as though he belonged there.

But a moment later, he broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "You're surprisingly quiet this morning, Ladybug. Am I that intimidating?"

She rolled her eyes, letting out a soft scoff as she glanced up at him. "Please, Felix. You couldn't intimidate me if you tried."

His smirk deepened, a spark of mischief lighting up his green eyes. "Funny. You seemed a little flustered last night. Something about my 'protective husband' act?"

Her hand tightened on the cup, her face heating up again. "Flustered? Don't flatter yourself," she replied, her tone sharp but her cheeks betraying her with a faint blush. "I was just trying to keep you from blowing our cover with your over-the-top theatrics."

He leaned in slightly, his gaze still fixed on her, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Is that what it was? Over-the-top?"

She looked away, but the intensity of his gaze lingered, sending a shiver down her spine. She could practically feel his smirk without even looking at him, his satisfaction at her reaction painfully obvious. But before he could press her further, she turned sharply, setting her cup down and shifting the conversation.

"So," she said briskly, folding her arms as she met his gaze with forced composure. "We have an another gala tonight. Are you prepared to keep up this time, Mr. Duval?"

Felix raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by her attempt to change the subject. "Oh, I'll be ready, Mrs. Duval. The real question is whether you can handle pretending to be madly in love with me."

Marinette felt another wave of warmth rise to her cheeks, though she fought to keep her expression neutral. "Don't test me, Felix. I'm more than capable of selling any act I need to."

He chuckled, taking a final sip of his coffee as he watched her with that infuriatingly amused look. "Good to know, darling."

They fell into an uneasy silence after that, both retreating to their own spaces in the room to prepare for the day. Marinette moved to the wardrobe, selecting an outfit with steady hands, forcing herself to focus on the mission and not on the way Felix's eyes lingered when he thought she wasn't looking. She couldn't afford to let herself get distracted, not by him and certainly not by the quiet kindness he'd shown in tucking her in last night.

But as she went about her preparations, his words echoed in her mind, each teasing remark laced with a hint of something deeper, something that felt dangerously like sincerity. She didn't want to analyze it—couldn't analyze it—yet it kept creeping back, refusing to be ignored.

Finally, as the afternoon approached, they gathered their things and made their way toward the gala venue, each slipping into their roles with ease. But even as they blended into their cover identities, Marinette couldn't shake the feeling of Felix's presence beside her, a constant, grounding force that felt both familiar and unsettling.

When they arrived at the venue, a grand, historic villa nestled in the heart of Milan, Marinette took a steadying breath, mentally preparing herself for the performance that lay ahead. She slid her arm through Felix's, tilting her head up to give him a polite, affectionate smile that would complete the picture of the loving couple they were supposed to be.

But as she met his gaze, the ease of her mask faltered slightly. His eyes held a warmth she hadn't anticipated, something quieter and softer than the sharp-edged taunts they usually exchanged. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if he could see the hesitation in her own gaze, the unsteady flutter in her chest that was becoming harder to ignore.

She tightened her grip on his arm, her voice low but steady. "Remember, we're here to keep an eye out for anyone connected to Hawkmoth's network. This isn't about... anything else."

Felix's smirk softened into something close to a smile. "Trust me, Marinette, I'm perfectly clear on our objective. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves."

She huffed, turning her attention back to the crowd around them, willing herself to focus. But as the night wore on, and as Felix continued to play his part with infuriating ease, Marinette found herself more distracted than ever. Every time his hand rested at the small of her back, every time he leaned close to whisper some innocuous observation in her ear, she felt her resolve weaken, her carefully constructed defenses threatening to crumble.

But she couldn't let him in. Not now, not when the stakes were so high. She'd spent years building herself into someone strong, someone who didn't need anyone's protection, and certainly not the kind that Felix offered, hidden behind his smirking bravado and infuriatingly watchful gaze.

As the night wore on, they continued to play their roles to perfection, each move calculated, each interaction flawlessly executed. But as they finally made their way back to the suite, Marinette felt the familiar strain settle over her, the weight of everything she was trying so hard to ignore.

They stepped into the room, each shedding their disguises in quiet, companionable silence. But as Marinette looked over at Felix, catching him glancing at her with that same soft warmth he'd shown that morning, she felt the walls she'd so carefully built begin to tremble.

Without another word, she turned toward the bathroom, her hands shaking slightly as she closed the door behind her, trying to collect herself. But in the quiet, his words echoed once more, along with the lingering feeling of that blanket tucked so carefully around her shoulders, a kindness she couldn't forget.

As she stood there, trying to steady her breathing, Marinette felt her resolve waver. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. But for now, all she could do was keep her guard up and hope, somehow, that she could make it through this mission without letting him see how deeply he was beginning to break through her armor.

So this chapter was mostly focused on Marinette's pov, but next chapter should be Felix.

ILY-Nattie