She sat in complete silence as Nathanaël drew her, this time trying to express more of her likeness.

It was odd to him. In a way, a quiet Chloé was a good thing. On the other hand, however, it was unnerving. The girl looked completely spaced out.

Is she sick or something? Oh God, I probably shouldn't have kissed her if she w-...oh...oh! He thought as he sketched, accidentally adding too much pressure to the pencil which ultimately broke the lead.

"Are you sick? I...I'm sorry about kissing you. I just, uh, didn't know what else to do to shut you up."

It took her a second to come out of her trance before she replied hastily, "W-Why would I be sick? Do I look sick to you?"

"Yes...Yes, you do."

"If anyone is sick, it's you! Why did you stop drawing me?"

"Because I...well..." He trailed off, trying to think of an excuse for getting distracted by her appearance, "I...broke my pencil tip. Yeah, I only brought one pencil."

Chloé scoffed, "What artist only carries a single pencil with them? That's unprofessional."

Assuming it was his chance to escape, the redhead quickly stuffed his belongings in his bag, "You sure do ask many questions."

"Huh? Where do you think you're going? You didn't finish drawing me, Nathanaël!"

"How else am I going to draw you if I don't have a pencil that works?"

"You're so stupid! Ugh, just follow me," The blonde groaned and she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the hallway, taking the poor boy by surprise, "Did you ever think 'Oh, I could ask my beautiful muse if she has a pencil?"

In the time it took for him to process the fact that she, a girl , held his hand that tightly, Nathanaël found himself standing awkwardly besides the prissy girl in a descending elevator.

Why is she still holding my hand? He asked himself, And why is it so soft?

Meanwhile, she had similar thoughts.

Why am I still holding his hand? They're so rough and coarse...

"So, uh, Chloé...where are you taking me?"

"Why, to the kitchen so you can sharpen your pencil, obviously."

Looking around the small box he stood in, he almost dropped his jaw at the number of floors her abode had, "How do you not get lost in this place?"

"I remember what Daddy told me. He said to go only on the floors with the gold circle around the button on the elevator. I just stay where I'm allowed to go."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense."

DING

As the elevator hand reached two, the metal doors opened and Chloé took no time before, yet again, dragging him around.

"So where is your ki-Oh my God! It's huge!"

"Haven't you grasped the fact that everything I own is either huge or expensive? Alright, give me your stick."

Nathanaël blushed profusely, "M-My what!? I only kissed y-"

"Oh, get over yourself! I meant your broken pencil!" She rushed, ripping the the tool out of his hand and turning to the knives.

Knives? She's not gonna do what I think she is, right? He worried.

Surely enough, Chloé took out a large butcher knife and held the pencil out in front of her, about to cut.

"H-Hey! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Of course I know what I'm doing! It's just a knife, stupid!"

"No, you're stupid and you're going to cut yourself!"

"You're the artist, not the...the...uh...knifest!"

"Chloé, that's not even a real thing! Ugh, look, just let me help you," The teen offered, reaching his hands over her own.

The feeling of him being behind her, however, startled the blonde, causing her to move the knife. With only that swift drop of the blades handle, the metal sliced across his hand and hit the ground with a thud.

"Argh! My hand!" Nathanaël almost screeched, holding his wrist.

"Sor-"

"JUST GET SOME HELP, CHLOÉ!"

"It was an accident, I swear! S-Stop bleeding so much!"

He gritted his teeth and exhaled, "Believe me, princess. If I could, I definitely would!"

"J-Just tell me what to do for you and stop screaming at me! I can hel-" She asked with urgency, inching closer to him.

"And it just had to be the hand I dr-mph!"

His complaints were halted when he felt a similar feeling: her lips on his. Only this time, he wasn't the one who placed them there.

Is...Is Chloé kissing me!? He panicked, pushing her away.

"Hey! I'm not that bad at kissing!"

Frantically waving his hands in front of him, he corrected her, "I never said you were! I-It's just, my blood is getting on your shirt..."

"Can you just stop paying attention to my ruined clothing and focus on how you're going to die!"

She...She can't be serious.

"Chloé, I'm not dying...I'm just bleeding from my palm. And it hurts...a lot."

"So you are hurt!"

Sighing, he moved over to one of the sinks and ran his hand under some water, cringing as it hit the cut open skin.

"It's okay. My hand is fine now...are you okay, Chloé? Did you hear me?"

After turning the handle and stopping the water flowing from the faucet, the artist turned around only to find the helpless girl looking down at her clothes and back at his hands.

"Are you okay, Nathanaël? There was...a lot of blood."

"I'll be fine, I promise," He assured her, despite feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"No, you're not! You keep...swaying like you're drunk!" The petulant blonde told him, going to grasp his hand as if it was becoming habit, "Just come with m-"

"Agh!"

Upon her touching his somewhat healed hand, all the pain came back as she gripped it tightly out of fear.

"Why are you yelling!? I'm trying to help y-"

"H-Hand."

"I know your hand is bleeding, so just quit whining and-"

Suddenly, he asked her a question out of the blue, "Why and when did you just happen to care about what happens to me?"

I...I'm worried about you, She wanted to say. What came out, however, was nothing at all like what she thought.

"Who else is going to draw me!?"

"Not me now seeing as how my hand is...well, like this. I should go. Sorry to take up your time, Chloé," He deadpanned, no emotion recognizable.

"Wait! Y-You don't have to-"

"Why else would you need me to stay? All you needed me for was to draw you. I'll see you at school."

And with that, Nathanaël turned on his heel and left Le Grand Paris, bag still left upstairs in her room.

Figuring that standing around in a kitchen that had splats of blood on the floor wasn't the best of ideas, Chloé walked, or simply trotted, back up to her large room which seemed emptied than before.

"Could he be any less stub-Gah!"

TRIP

"Are you KIDDING ME!?" She she asked to no one in particular, "Stupid Nathanaël and his stupid sketchbook…Why would he leave it here? "

I might as well look through it , Chloé decided as she stood back up and went to lay on her bed, book in hand.

He seemed to put dates by every drawing, so she assumed starting from the most recent entry would save her the time of scouring through multiple sketches of Marinette. She did, however, have to touch the pages delicate and slowly so as not to do what she did that caused their whole fight in the first place.

As the girl passed each page, she noticed a pattern; a transition. Marinette drawings began to dissipate and more preliminary drawings of circle bases for heads, most of which had large 'x' marks over them, appeared.

The last entry, or what he just drew, was of her. It was much more like her physically than the other girl she despised.

15 février 2016 was the date scrawled on the bottom right corner. The moment she looked at it, she noticed that all those circles were drawn on the same day.

Are all of these circles supposed to be me? Why are there so many? Was he trying to draw me all day?

Chloé continued flipping back and forth between pages until one of her fingers caught on a page, "Ouch! What the…?"

Curious of what he so neatly hid, she turned back the flap, revealing a list and a note.

Chloé:
Tall
Big cheeks
Bright smile
Big eyes
Blue eyes
Why are her eyes so nice?

The rest of the list was scratched out, though it seemed to go on to almost the bottom of the page. Along the margins of the paper was different shades of blue: Dodger blue, Brandeis blue, Maya blue, Bleu de France, etc. How many shades of blue did he have memorized?

The color index filled every cranny, apart from a space that was separated from all the rest, containing a small note.

I think I understand why you were so mean to me now. I also think I understand why you are mean to others too. I never t hought knew that was the reason. I'm sorry I hurt you, Chloé. You're feelings I mean…

Another portion of the note was broken up by a small doodle of himself looking frustrated and looking at her.

Why is it so hard to write how I feel? Maybe I should just tell her in person. Would she laugh at me? No, I'll just apologize in person. It's not like she'd care if I said how I felt. How...How do I even feel about her?

It took her a moment to process what she had just read. Did Nathanaël like her? Did she like Nathanaël?

No...No, that's crazy. I love Adrien! Don't I…?

Confused by her feelings, she ended up trying to sleep on the idea, but in the end stayed up all night. School was going to be...stressful.