Morning sunlight streamed through his windowpanes, its warm glow tickling his features. Adrien blinked, startled to be awoken by the sun. As of late, the weather had been rather dreary and cloudy so the fact that the weather had done a 180 was a pleasant surprise.

He let out a yawn, stretching his arms as he pulled back the bedsheets and hopped out of his bed. He gave off a soft thud as his feet impacted with the carpet.

… Wait, no.

It wasn't his bed at all.

Actually, this wasn't even his room.

Instead of an oversized bedroom, with windows stretching out to the height of a bungalow, it was reasonably small. A decent size. Cerulean blue walls stretched out in front of him, plastered with posters of Jagged Stone and images of him and his friends in which he had never remembered being taken. Built into the right of his wall were two windows, where two sets of translucent curtains hung drawn back. A small wooden desk was placed in front of them, allowing him to look on at the view whilst he sat at it. Placed atop the desk was a computer, a pencil pot stuffed with all kinds of things - and was that a photograph of Marinette?

Befuddled and slightly panicked, the boy gave his eyes a rub. Perhaps he was still asleep?

But no.

The room remained the same.

Taking careful steps, he walked over to a wardrobe situated at the opposite end of the room to his bed. Adrien flung open the door with a soft creak to reveal all sorts of mismatched clothes. From a soft red tee to a black sweatshirt with neon green paw prints embroidered onto it… But no shirt with his usual striped pattern. Nor did he even own anything with a 'G' on it.

Odd.

The blonde reached out a hesitant hand before picking up the sweatshirt along with a matching pair of jeans and top. Just as he finished slipping them on, he heard a woman's voice call out from downstairs making his blood run cold.

"Adrien sweetie, breakfast is ready!"

Now, it obviously wasn't her words that made him freeze. I mean, how could receiving breakfast be a bad thing? Nope, it was the woman who'd said them. He hadn't heard her voice for about two years, but it was unmistakable.

The boy didn't waste a single second as he swung open the door and thundered down a staircase two at a time towards where the woman's voice had come from.

He found himself in a kitchen, the smell of freshly prepared pancakes so sweet and overpowering that it could make anyone's stomach growl. However, Adrien's brain barely reregistered any this. He was only focused on the blonde lady stood in the centre of it all, her smile large and bright.

"Adrien! There you are, I was beginning to think you would never come downstairs," She let out a small chuckle. "How are you feeling about having pancakes this morning?" The woman then noticed Adrien's blank stare and her expression morphed into one showing slight concern.

"Ma Chéri? Is everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

Adrien rushed up towards her, enveloping her in a tight hug as if fearing if he let her go, she would disappear again. "Mum," His voice croaked.

"Adrien?" Emilie asked after a moments pause. "Have you had another bad dream again?"

He couldn't find it in himself to reply, far too shocked to even make a move. It was her - this was her - she was home - oh mon Dieu!

His Mum slowly slipped out of the hug, and shot him a small and encouraging smile. "Go ahead and tuck into your pancakes, okay? I'll be over in a minute and we can talk about it."

Adrien shook himself out of his state of shock and gave her a nod. "I… um think I would like that."

He sat himself at the table, where a small platter of pancakes awaited him. Eyes filled with pure delight, he began to tuck in to his breakfast savouring every single bite. It wasn't every day he got a breakfast like this.

A snort of laughter caused him to look up. A man - who he had surprisingly not noticed until now - was sat at the opposite end of the table to him, newspaper held firmly in his hands. His lips were upturned into a small smile. An expression that seemed quite foreign on his face… and yet not at the same time.

"Anyone would've thought you had never seen a pancake before, Adrien," He spoke jokingly to him, eyes still glued on the paper.

"Heh, they're just really good Father," At this Gabriel raised his brow questionably at Adrien, turning his attention towards him.

"Father? Don't you normally call me 'Dad', son?"

Oh right. He referred to him as Dad, didn't he?

"Sorry Dad, I don't know what came over me. This morning's just been a little 'off'."

"Oh, I get it. One of those days then?"

Adrien gave a hum in response as he got back to cleaning his plate off. His fork gave a scraping sound as he cut off another piece of the pancake with it.

Once he'd finished, he lay his cutlery down and spoke up again. "Hey Dad? Do you know where Nathalie is? She would usually be here by now to tell me my schedule."

Gabriel sent him another funny look, confused by his son's crazy antics for the second time that morning. "Your schedule, Adrien? You don't have one. And who's Nathalie?"

There was a brief pause, as Adrien contemplated exactly what he'd meant by that. Who was Nathalie again?

"Oh, no one Dad. Never mind."

After brushing his teeth and collecting his school supplies, he rushed towards the door to leave, only to be stopped by his Mum.

"Adrien? Are you ready to talk about that bad dream?"

Adrien looked up at the woman with a soft grin. "To be honest, I can't really remember it."

Emilie placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "Okay but remember, Adrien, that we're here for you."

"Don't worry Mum," He said, hauling his school bag over his shoulder. "I know that."

With that, Adrien waved goodbye to her and stepped outside into the warm, summer air.

The walk wasn't that long, only about ten minutes. Although, it may have taken less longer if he hadn't stopped every couple of minutes to admire his beautiful city and take some photos with his camera.

Ah yes, his camera. It had been a few months ago when his Fa- Dad had given him his old camera for his birthday. It wasn't new and fancy by no means, even so he treasured his gift immensely. It also allowed him to discover his passion for photography. According to his Dad, he was getting quite good at it too!

Finally, after the trip, Adrien reached school where his friends were waiting for him up front.

"Adrien, my dude! You'll never guess what Marinette brought in today," Nino, wrapped his arm around his best friend as he gestured to where the jet-black haired girl was stood, arms wrapped around box.

A box which had the Dupain-Cheng logo printed on the front.

Woah!

"Wow Princess!" He exclaimed, well aware at how she giggled at the nickname. "Are you spoiling us with some of your pastries today?"

"Yep, I was helping out with my parents in the bakery yesterday and they allowed me to bring in a few of the croissants that we made to share."

Adrien gasped, positively beaming. "Croissants? And you made them yourself? You're incredible Marinette."

"Of course she is," Chimed in Alya. "This is my best friend we are talking about."

Marinette began handing out croissants to the group, their glorious smell drawing in the attention of passersby who were looking in on at them enviously. Many knew about the bakery just up the street, and could all agree that they sold the best pastries in Paris by far.

As the group finished munching on the pastries, a bell rang out, signalling all of the students to head inside for lessons.

Ah, today was going just perfect.

Nevertheless, as he walked inside, Adrien still couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

AN: Should probably be updating my ongoing fics instead of starting a new one… Oh well. ✧