You weren’t jealous.

That’s what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t jealous when he laughed a little louder around her. When his eyes softened every time Marinette walked into the room. When Nino nudged you and whispered “He’s so obvious, huh?” and Alya giggled from across the table.

You weren’t jealous.

You were just… tired.

Tired of watching him fall for someone who didn’t know the whole him. Who didn’t stay up late helping him rewrite his math notes after a photo shoot. Who didn’t sit beside him in silence on the bad days, offering nothing but quiet and presence. Who didn’t know his favorite cereal or the way he hummed when he was nervous.

That was you.

And yet, you were always just the best friend.

You tried to ignore it. To be happy for him. But every time he smiled at her, it chipped something away.

Until one afternoon, it cracked.

The two of you were walking home from school, the late sun casting golden shadows. He was talking about Marinette again—how cute she’d looked when she tripped over her words in class. You laughed along, like always.

But this time, it tasted bitter.

—“Do you even hear yourself?” you said suddenly, stopping on the sidewalk.

Adrien blinked, turning to face you.

—“What?”

—“You always talk about her. Like she’s perfect. Like she’s the only person who exists when she’s in the room.”

He frowned.

—“I mean… I just think she’s cool—”

—“No,” you cut in, voice tight. “You’re in love with her. Everyone knows. Alya, Nino, the whole class. Even she probably knows.”

He looked taken aback, shoulders stiffening.

—“What are you trying to say?”

You exhaled, the words rising from a place you didn’t want to touch.

—“I can’t keep doing this. Being the friend who’s always there, always listening, always waiting. I know I’m not her. I know I’m not Marinette. But I’m not going to keep pretending it doesn’t hurt watching you look through me.”

Silence.

Adrien just stared at you, stunned.

Then—quietly, so quietly it barely registered—

—“…Who said I look at her when she smiles?”

He took a step closer, eyes gentler now, voice lower.

—“Everyone thinks I’m in love with Marinette. Because I get nervous. Because I smile. Because I don’t know how to act.”