5 December, 2008 (~3:00 PM) and 16 May, 20017 (~10:30 AM).

"Hey, Marinette..."

The dark-haired girl, so focused on her current task that she hadn't noticed the door opening, was suddenly learning how to juggle her piping bag filled with frosting with all the finesse of a circus clown. Adrien's voice was a little thinner than usual, his throat tight with nerves. Since he'd purposely avoided his father and Nino this morning, he wondered if he was the only one who could tell.

"H-hi!"

Probably.

Adrien leaned against the counter, staring at an assortment of cakes and cookies as though they were transparent, which Marinette seemed to mistake for interest. "We h-have some great macaroons, fresh out of the oven – "

"I'll pass."

"Oh."

Her face visibly fell, and Adrien's eyebrows furrowed in correspondence. Not a moment later, he heard a voice calling from the back, "Order for Agreste?"

"Ah, that's me!"

Marinette's father, a tall and burly man with green eyes and brown hair, poked his head out of the kitchen. Like Adrien, Marinette had clearly inherited most of her genetics from her mother. "Your order is ready, it just needs the finishing touches – ah, Marinette, why don't you handle this?"

He retrieved a small, pastel pink box and a slip of paper from the kitchen. The cake inside would be perfectly round, small and palm-sized. He tried very hard to remember even little detail like this now, because that's how important she was to him and if he grew too relaxed he might start forgetting things again.

"Here's what you need to write."

The blond already knew what was written on the note, of course. He'd had a hard enough time saying the words over the phone and looked away, knowing full well that he couldn't bear to watch Marinette reading them. Somehow, it didn't even matter, because he could perfectly imagine the stubborn quiver of her lip anyway. Without trying. The image just popped into mind automatically, and only tangled the knot of his thoughts were tied into even further. And since all of his thoughts at the moment were tangled even further, the next to occur to him was –

'Maybe I should have asked for the letters in blue frosting. She told me once that her favorite color was blue,' but over the phone he'd claimed it hadn't mattered and it was too late to go back now. Four words didn't take that long to write; Marinette had probably finished the "I love you" by now and the only thing after that was to sign with his name.

"Who is this for?" Marinette asked softly.

Maybe it was just the circumstances that made him a little more perceptive than usual today, but – worst case scenario, she was probably thinking it was Chloe. Possibly Lila, but despite having forgiven her, he was not willing to date her.

He slumped even further against the counter and tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. Plagg had asked the same question, as soon as he'd hung up the phone. He'd tried to make it into a joke, saying "I appreciate that you're buying me cake and all, but that is cheesy and not the good kind" and had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since then.

Before answering, Adrien thought a little bit more. About her and how he could tell her anything, her smile and the silly voices she'd liked to make that had always made him laugh. He only had a few pictures of her, for some reason, but he wished he had more.

As soon as he said the words, Marinette fell just as quiet as Plagg had:

"It's in memory of my mom."

Because Adrien knew she would never just leave them like that. Everyone said she'd "disappeared" to make it hurt less, but for her to disappear one night and never come back – she was obviously dead.

"Thanks for the cake, Marinette, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng."

Frosted angel food cake had been her favorite. Especially served with ice cream, which was why he was going to the ice cream shop next.