With a sharp gasp, Marinette drew back for only a second, and checked her purse for the most fleeting instant. Adrien watched as relief crossed her face, and she gave a noisy exhale.

Of course it was an accident. It had to be.

Adrien combed his fingers through his hair, setting it back into place as neatly as possible.

Marinette's clumsiness wasn't exactly new. She had tripped down the stairs and sent croissants flying in this very classroom. And he'd spotted her ability to "windmill" herself safely away from a tumble down the stairs on more than one occasion. Though she usually darted off to safety well enough whenever the Akuma came to call...

When he looked up again, he caught concern narrowing the edges of her very blue eyes.

Without warning, she darted forward with significantly more grace than he'd expected. Her hand hovered just above his halo of hair.

"Are you okay?"

"Not even a scratch." He gently tapped his fist against his head with a small, secretive smile, careful to tamp down the pun that was hanging on the edge of his lips. "I promise. I've taken far harder hits that that."

He'd barely noticed Alya smirk as Nino muffled a chuckle beside them. Not that he needed their doubts of his own capability. Not when he knew better. "You okay?"

Wide-eyed, Marinette nodded, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks as she settled back down in her chair. "I just wish I saw that you were already bending down to grab it first. Great minds think alike, I guess?"

Adrien beamed.

It was odd. The more he had allowed his mind to mews the whole situation, the more he wondered about his occasionally clumsy friend.

Marinette was amazing. She could be so graceful and adept in certain respects… especially when it came to creating some of the most amazing clothes and foods… and transform to suddenly klutzy without warning.

Chat Noir hadn't even realized he'd veered off his usual patrol route until he spotted the light up on her balcony.

Marinette sat up on her patio lounger, head tilted as her fingers deftly chased a needle through the cloth. He was surprised she could see quite so well with the fading daylight outdoors, and just a slim string of fairy lights that glowed around her.

There was such a serious look of calm on her face. It reminded him of being a young boy and watching his father work, before being chased out of the room and into the waiting desk for his tutors... back before his father's Brand had come to such dramatic prominence, and he himself had been drafted into modelling.

Chat touched down lightly on the rooftop above and behind her to take a quick glimpse at what she was working on.

He didn't exactly want to intrude. But it was only natural that being transformed would make him a curious cat…

Ever so quietly, his gaze extended over the edge of the roof to peek at the project she was finishing up.

With practiced ease, she trimmed off the edge of the thread, winding it back around the spool. Sparing not even a second glance, she chucked the spool of thread back in a high arc towards her sewing basket as she snagged a second spool to thread the needle anew.

For all the rooftops in all of Paris that he could have landed on - in the year plus he had been patrolling - it was only when he'd touched down on hers that he managed to get beaned in the head with a wayward spool.

The spool bounced back down towards the basket, missing the original target by mere inches.

Chat Noir scowled, rubbing the slight sore as he vaulted away, ducking to stay out of sight as she stood to return the rogue spool into the tiny basket.

Maybe it all wasn't an accident.

Maybe it is just his own rotten luck.