Given her aptitude for designing and manufacturing clothing, Adrien knew that Marinette was smart, but their present assignment indicated that he had severely underestimated her intellectual abilities. Apparently, her lapses into exuberance did not preclude her from being a well-equipped student. Adrien, being a model who faced a steady barrage of accusations about his intellect or lack thereof, knew better than most to not let preconceived notions and stereotypes cloud one's judgement. The two had performed so well and gotten such a great deal of work done that they were free to accept Nino and Alya's offer for Friday night ice cream.

"So what he's trying to say is that you should keep your eyes wide open at all times, and love comes in many forms. I can get behind that." Nino and Alya had been assigned to create a presentation about a series of poems about love and destiny. As expected, they had diametrically opposed views.

"Actually," Alya barked as soon as he concluded the thought. "If you read the poem in question, it's obvious that he thinks some metaphysical force, be it the universe or nature, has a predetermined plan for every single organic lifeform."

With the argument becoming more heated by the moment, Adrien shared a glance barely concealing amusement with Marinette, who was trying and failing to hide a smile. It was blatantly obvious to any semi-cognizant being that Alya and Nino, despite their proclivity for dispensing thunderous vitriol at each other at regular intervals, each carried a flame for the other rivaled only by the heat of a neutron star. It seemed as if they both had been custom-designed by some metaphysical force to match the others exact 'type'. Adrien was certain that the two would eventually come to the realization at some point.

"Let light break, and thus procreate, but truth does not lie through the red tape! It implies that you have to forge your own way."

Now that he was mentally on the topic, Adrien pondered as to the subject of Marinette's type. What was her type?

"Just reciting lines doesn't give you an understanding of the subtext, doof."

Did she like smart guys? Tall guys? Muscular guys? He was far from a super genius, not particularly tall, and, although his tenure as Chat-Noir had noticeably improved his physique, not very muscular. Perhaps a more prominent question was whether or not she even liked guys. Prior to that point, he hadn't really considered the possibility of Marinette's type and her romantic interests, and the fact that he couldn't force his interest of his head was puzzling. Since when did he concern himself with such an idea?

"Hey, Marinette, what's your type?"

Time and space came to a grinding halt. The two, horrified, looked over at Adrien, whatever acrimony between them having dissipated, and all sound had been replaced with the subtle buzz of the adjacent lights. What possessed him to say that? His relationship with his dad necessitated a statue-esque level of discipline and self-control, yet being around Marinette had somehow completely shattered his years of experience.

Marinette, with her face practically on fire, finally gave a partial response. "W-w-why do you ask?"

That made his chest tighten. He hadn't expected a follow-up question of such magnitude. While Alya and Marinette continued to give Adrien the 'deer-in-headlights' look, Nino had burst into a fit of laughter so raucous it seemed as if he might herniate, only exasperating his present anxiety.

"No reason," Now he refused to make eye contact. "Just thinking out loud." At least that was the earnest truth.

"Well," She timidly began. "Someone who's brave, and smart-"

"Someone like Chat-Noir." Alya intervened, though her voice indicated it was more a question than a definitive statement.

Marinette nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Like Chat-Noir. He's brave, smart, and in very good shap-" She halted herself before continuing. Her face only brightened, and Alya put her hands over her eyes in shame.

Following the tidal-wave of embarrassment that had collapsed over their table, Nino guffawed. "Someone strand me on the Moon! I am done!" Alya, in response, punched him in the shoulder. "Hanzo donzo." He at least relaxed to an extent following her protest.

Adrien, in spite of the snowstorm that presently dominated his veins and stomach, felt that the journey had been a worthy one. It was certainly interesting that Marinette thought Chat-Noir was both brave and smart. And her taking notice of his physique? That was just the cherry on top of the proverbial sundae.

"So, uh, thanks for working with me today. I feel like we made a lot of solid progress already." Like a true gentleman, Adrien had escorted Marinette home after the two had opted to walk in favor of a ride from the Gorilla.

"No problem," She responded in kind. "Couldn't have asked for a better partner."

For what felt like several eternities, the two stood there, uncertain of how to conclude the night. Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly while Marinette bit her lip and darted her eyes.

"Oh!" He perked up, shattering the silence. "I should give you my phone number."

"Your phone number?" She squeaked out.

"If you need to contact me about the project." He quickly cut in.

"Right." Clearly relieved to have received that remark, she handed over her phone. A few moments of typing, a vibration, and Adrien returned the device. Her eyes met the screen to find:

Hey from Adrien :)

"So, I'll see you later?" He shyly inquired.

She vigorously bobbed her head up and down before almost skipping into her residence. Adrien decided to wait until inside the bakery to ensure her safety and most certainly not to watch her perform a small impromptu dance that made his heart skip several beats.

"I take it you're in for the night, Master Adrien?"

With no potential damsel-in-distress to escort, Adrien had reversed his decision not to employ the impeccable talents of the Gorilla. He was far too tired to walk and far too emotionally exhausted to inform anyone of the day's events. The only thought on his mind was sleep and pleasant dreams about what a spectacular day it had been. "Yep."

"And how was miss Dupain-Cheng?"

Now he was awake. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"You're both embarking on a hefty scholastic endeavor and clearly going to be spending quite a bit of time together. It's going to be quite difficult if you both don't get along well."

"I'm lucky, cuz she's pretty great," Adrien concluded emphatically before he retired to his room to avoid further interrogation.

It was somewhat amusing watching Adrien try and fail to mask his feelings. Having watched Adrien since the teenager was a boy, his affection for miss Dupain-Cheng, he felt, could not have been more clear unless it had been written in neon-pink calligraphy across the night sky.