A/N: Hello, dearest fandom! Here we go again! Well, a couple of things to say before you start to read:
a) Yes, another one of my friends fell victim of my fanfics. I was staying at her place for a couple of months because of college related stuff (we live in different states), and she, let's call her Good End, had the misfortune of having me around when all the things I wrote about in the fanfic happened.
b) Yes, she gave me permission to write about it (she actually demanded it)
c) This is like 80% of what really happened. The rest I changed to fit the characters' personalities.
d) These events are still in progress. Which means I know how the fanfic will end, but I can't say the same about Good End's real life story.
e) This also means that I don't know how many chapter it will have, but you can expect at least 5.
She was feeling very good. It was Monday morning, not her favorite day of the week, and yet she felt great.
The day before she went to a certain place, wore a certain costume, saved some lives and everyone was happy. She had help, like she always had. Her partner never let her down, even when she called him on week days, asking for his help. She had never seen his face without the mask, but trusted him with her life.
And, because of all they did on Sunday, she felt good.
She had started on her new job just 2 weeks previously. Waking up early, choosing carefully what to wear, she entered her car and turned the sound up. She couldn't say why this day felt different from the others, it just did.
"Morning, Rose!"
"Good morning, Marinette! You look great today! I mean, you always look really nice, but…"
"Don't worry, Rose. It was a compliment, I got it." Marinette cut her, laughing.
As she called the elevator, she heard a high pitched voice entering the building and took a deep breath. She was not going to ruin her good mood.
"Oh look. If it isn't Dupain-Cheng. You look annoyingly happy today. What happened to you on the weekend? Bought more of those horrible clothes you love so much?"
Marinette turned to her, a smile glued to her face.
"Have a great morning, Chloe! Enjoy the reception desk." and got in the elevator pushing the 20th floor button, closing the doors before the blond girl could get in.
She sat on her chair, tidied her desk, turned her computer on, got her drawing tablet out of her bag and started working. Her colleagues arrived as well, greeted her, and went to their respectives desks. Alya, always late, waved Marinette a sleepy "hello" and sat on the workstation next to her. Five minutes later, Ms. Bustier came in. Behind her came a blond boy looking equally pleased to be there and worried he would make a complete mess.
"Good morning everyone!" Four heads looked up from their computers and above their workstations to greet their HR director. "So, I have news for you!"
"You're not forcing us into vacation again, are you?" Max said, looking worried. "We just want to work, Ms. Bustier!"
The rest of them laughed, but Ms. Bustier simply adjusted her glasses.
"No, Max. I'm here to introduce you to your new co-worker. This is Adrien."
She motioned for him to come forward. He beamed, and raised a hand to greet them.
"Hi everyone! I'm Adrien. I'm very pleased to meet you."
Alya raised one eyebrow as the guys said hi to Adrien and turned to Marinette.
"He looks somewhat shy, don't you think? I think this is the first time he does that. Ever."
"What, do you mean this is his first job?"
"Yes. Well, you looked exactly the same two weeks ago when you arrived here. And he looks rich. Like, really rich. I bet I would've to work a whole year to buy clothes like that."
Marinette registered little of what her best friend said after that. She gave a better look at him and something clicked inside her. The only thing she could think of was 'I think I've seen him before'.
"What's wrong with you? Have you skipped breakfast again? You look weird."
"What? No." Marinette blinked and shook her head. "I just need some coffee."
She got up and walked towards the door, but before she could reach it Adrien called her.
"Hey. I don't know your name. I'm Adrien." He extended his hand to her. It took her a few seconds to remember how to move.
"Right. Yes. I know. I mean, my name is Marinette." She shook his hand awkwardly. "I'm going to get some coffee, do you want some?
She regretted saying it the moment the words escaped her mouth. What was she thinking, talking to him like that? He raised a hand to his mouth and chuckled, amused by some internal joke she didn't get.
"No, I'm not really into coffee. I'm more a tea kinda guy. But thanks."
"Oh, ok." Feeling her cheeks burning, she opened the door and left. A minute later Alya came after her.
"What the hell whas that?"
"That what?"
Alya crossed her arms in front of her, smirking.
"Oh, nothing. Only that tension between you two."
"You're imagining things. Here, have a coffee, you need it more than me. This might be abstinence.
She forced a cup on her hand and returned to her desk with one of her own. Marinette knew Alya was right. Something happened. She couldn't explain what yet, but something happened. Adrien was no longer in her room when she got back and she caught herself thinking if he would work at another floor. What would he do, anyway? Everyone there had a different assignment, but Ms. Bustier never said what his would be. She sipped her coffee and looked through the glass walls to the room next to hers, but realized that was a mistake when she almost choked with her hot drink. Ms. Bustier was showing Adrien his workstation, which she could easily see through the open door of her own room. They'd work every day just a side glance away from each other. Her stomach jumped inside her.
"Oh, Lord."
Marinette had entirely forgotten her good mood in the morning. Alya looked at her confused friend and sighed. She wondered how many days would pass before Marinette realized what was going on.
The next day Marinette arrived at work already feeling anxious. She spent all night trying to remember why Adrien looked so familiar but to no good. She wanted to ask him, but she knew very well she would never have the guts to do so. She had to force herself to work without looking at the next room every five seconds to see what he was doing. Every time he stood up to talk to someone or do something in his room she could still him through the glass walls. She cursed those damn glass walls. Whose idea was that? She missed concrete.
He had barely given her a good morning that day, but as soon as she got her bag and meant to leave for lunch, he did the same and met her at the elevator.
"Hello, Marinette." He said, with a friendly smile.
She tried to greet him back, but what came out of her mouth was something between a "hi" and a sigh. She pushed the elevator button and didn't dare to look at him again. At least until he called her one more time.
"Hey, I've been meaning to ask you."
She waited, her heart beating fast, although she could not tell why yet. Alya would've rolled her eyes.
"Do we… know each other? When Ms. Bustier introduced me to the team yesterday I looked at you and… I don't know. It felt like I knew you."
Marinette opened her mouth to answer, but they heard the sound of the elevator doors opening and got in. They were alone.
"I… I really don't know. I had that feeling too, but I have no idea if we've seen each other before."
"Hum…" He thought for a moment. "I guess we'll just have to give it time. And – he smiled – if we really don't know each other, we will now."
Feeling her face hot and her heart melting on her chest, they reached the ground floor. Adrien looked at her as if he was about to say something else when his phone rang.
"Adrien. Yes. Right away, Nathalie. I'm on my way."
Marinette left the building first, not wanting to eavesdrop his phone call, but burning with curiosity. Then she froze. Looking at the billboard right in front of her building, she now understood what Alya meant with "really rich": There it was a giant picture of Adrien for a perfume ad. Adrien reached her a few second later, still talking on the phone, and his reaction was the same: he stood there, petrified, looking at his own giant face.
"Father…" he whispered angrily, and went down the street. Marinette, confused, went the opposite direction.
They never talked more than a few words the following days. Which only served to make Marinette more and more "curious" about him. Alya rolled her eyes every time her friend said she was only trying to remember where they had met before.
"You keep telling yourself that. When you decide to hear the truth, you come to me, please."
Marinette faked deafness.
What she could not deny was how much he attracted her. He was handsome, extremely nice to everybody, punctual, efficient at his job. And yet she could not bring herself to talk to him. She sttutered, he smiled, trying to encourage her, and she fled. They had the briefest of interaction when the company threw him a little collective birthday party at Friday and she allowed herself to give him a hug.
Marinette was starting to feel very comfortable inside her bubble of shyness, the thought of having anything more with him never crossing her mind. Alya was seething. It pained her to see her best friend struggling to have a simple talk with the guy. But soon Marinette would not be able to escape interaction. And she had no idea yet of how much interaction she was about to have.
The following week they all received an email from the boss: on Friday they would have a corporate day out. Bowling.
