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She didn’t know him. He was a stranger. And she was a stranger, too.
It was a detail that was, in the end, utterly unimportant. Inconsequential. Irrelevant to the fight.
Truly, he was an enchanting dream, but not one meant for her. The man on the phone had made that clear. They weren’t supposed to know each other as civilians. And if she took the time to think it through, why her phone had his face and his had her alter ego, why they had assumed the two of them were together at all, why the other Ladybug had scolded Chat Noir, she might draw some conclusions. Even without her memory, she had already figured out that, mask or no mask, she was an adept puzzle solver. But this wasn’t a line of inquiry she wanted to follow through its end. That road led somewhere, to some version of reality she did not want to know.
She had to think about the now. The mission. Her responsibility. Return Ladybug to the people. Soothe the hurt. Cleanse the world. Save the day.
She couldn’t think about the rest of it. She couldn’t think about how what she knew could upend the other Ladybug’s entire universe.
She couldn’t think about Adrien’s desperate enthusiasm, his eager affection, his stubborn insistence that he loved her. But she also couldn’t help the well of warmth she felt open up with his presence.
So yes, she would kiss him. It was a gift, in truth, to the both of them. A parcel to tide them over. One day, they wouldn’t forget. One day, they would recognize each other. One day, it really would be the two of them against the world, and not the slow twirling of two lonely dancers toward the final call.
Until then, with all the time allotted left, Ladybug could love her beloved stranger until the end of this universe.