Marinette had been the owner and operator of the Ladybug Café and Bookstore for the past 3 years. Originally, she had been just another patron, utilizing the wide selection of fashion-through-the-ages books that littered the shelves, as she slogged through her fashion degree, and drinking the occasional- amazing- cup of coffee while her eyelids drooped after twilight.

She had come by the bookstore quite on accident. One afternoon the bluenette had been combing the city for inspiration on a piece that was due at the end of her semester- all of the famous monuments and buildings were sure to be used by her fellow classmates and so Marinette had decided to take to the narrow, cobblestone streets in the heart of Paris- as she wandered, dark and dreary doorsteps and shops were all that she could see.

She had just begun to worry that her instincts had been wrong, when a bright red building ostentatiously caught her attention. It had large, rounded windows, a small balcony leveling off and topping the peaked roof, and the most outrageous black spots painted sporadically on the brick surface- she loved how unabashed it stood in the middle of the cream, white, and gray buildings lining the rest of the street- it was the perfect inspiration for her design.

After stepping inside that first time, she was forever hooked. The smell of freshly made coffee swirling together with the delectably musty hint of old books had her sighing in content before she could even curl up into the comfortable armchair in the corner. Tikki, the middle-aged redhead who was the original owner of the shop, had immediately taken a liking to the younger girl and they became fast friends- Marinette often thought of her as a second mother and would call her frequently for advice.

It took two years of nightly visits, hundreds of conversations, a couple of tear filled meltdowns about her future, and one really bad breakup before Tikki mentioned that she and her husband wanted to sell the shop to travel the world. Of course, Marinette had tried to talk her out of it, but the older woman had a proposition for her instead.

"Run the shop for us." She remembered the words vividly. "You'll have the freedom and means to work on your designs, you can live in the apartment upstairs, and you can run the shop how you see fit." Marinette supposed that it didn't sound like a bad idea- the couple didn't have any children to leave the store to and she felt comfortable enough with her experience at the bakery to know that she wouldn't run the business into the ground.

And just like that, Marinette was trained on the managerial end of things for a few months before becoming the official head of the business. Tikki and Plagg moved their things out of the apartment and into storage before setting out for Asia- last she had heard, the pair of them were cruising around the Americas- and she had incorporated baked good into the list of items to be purchased at the coffee portion of the store.

They had their good months and they had their bad months, but Marinette loved it none the less. She became fast friends with her lead barista, who did freelance writing on the side, and everyone on the small staff got along like family. They had their regulars- early morning business men in suits with a newspaper tucked under one arm, frazzled mother's with a child or two in tow, late afternoon teenagers freshly out of their school day with no regard to how late the caffeine may keep them up, and, Marinette's personal favorites, the readers.

Readers were the people who would come in for a cup of coffee, grab a book off of the shelf, and fill the reading area, absentmindedly sipping their drink and getting lost in whatever thrilling tale had caught their interest. She was one of those people- often quiet, never making a fuss, just interested in enjoying a good book- and she would greet each one as an old friend, welcoming them each and every time with a smile while occasionally sending a free treat to them to brighten their day.

It was unexpectedly easy to make sure the shop didn't fail- she made sure to get the orders for what they needed in, she made sure to be nice to everyone who passed through the front doors, and she treated her employees with respect- all of that seemed to be working well for her.

What wasn't working so well for her was the impact on her dating life. She just didn't find many opportunities that made her want to go out and find someone to date- of course, she's had the occasional person ask her out while a work, but none of them had really felt right to her- and so, she stayed in and worked on her designs and experimented with new pastries for the café.

Alya was getting fed up with her excuses. "You want to feel a connection? Sometimes, Mare, you have to make that connection. It's not like someone is just going to randomly bump into you one day and you'll fall head over heels- you have to put yourself out there and see what happens!"

Yes, easy for her friend to say, but she had yet to even give Nino her phone number. The poor guy has been coming in for months on end to visit with the redhead, who Marinette knew for a fact found him intriguing, and yet- she was still holding out on him. It was getting to a point where Marinette was seriously considering locking the two of them in the storage room for a few hours just to see what would happen.

Despite all of that, though, the bluenette had never felt like she was lonely… she had Tikki and her customers and Alya to keep her company- although, it would be nice not to have to listen to her friend offer to set her up on another blind date for the fourth time that week- and she was perfectly content to sit in her regular armchair reading the newest story and surveying the shop to make sure everything went smoothly.

It was a Thursday when she first saw him. Marinette had just finished baking the last batch of macaroons before placing them delicately in the display case. Alya shook her head fondly, springy hair swaying rhythmically around her shoulders, and told her to take a break- she'd been working since 4am without rest and the morning rush had left her body aching with exhaustion.

A simple hand on her shoulder, pulling her out from behind the counter and towards the front of the bookstore, put her heavy legs into motion. The redhead shouted promises of a fresh coffee and a croissant in a few minutes as Marinette sleepily stumbled her way over to the bright windows, blinking back the itchy feeling behind her eyelids.

They had a few readers today and she spent a few minutes greeting each of them before retrieving her own book and settling into a golden ray of sunlight, letting the warmth seep into her skin. Before she could even open the front cover, a low chime reverberated around the room as a man entered.

His eyes swept over everything in sight just as Marinette's own were drawn to him. He was new here- she was certain that she hadn't ever seen him in the shop before- but there was something about him that seemed familiar. Blond hair was combed into perfection, trimmed bangs ghosted over immaculate eyebrows and striking emerald green eyes, and the muscles in his neck lengthened as she watched him inhale deeply before a gentle smile broke across the granite edges of his features.

He moved on without another glance in her direction, but she was frozen- staring at the movement of fabric and muscles as his form maneuvered towards the café- her mind whizzing, trying to come up with where she had seen him before while simultaneously resisting the urge to chase after him. Marinette sat there, ears trained on the soft, gentle tone of his voice wafting in snippets from the back room as he ordered, trying to read the same line in her book for the 4th time in a row, before lightly groaning to herself and leaning back against the soft cushion.

She was too tired for this- how was it that one look at him had her so enraptured? Why was she fixatedly listening to each strike of leather against wood as the mystery man made his way back towards the entrance? Why couldn't she stop herself from peeking through silted eyes as he paused for a moment, eyes once more taking in the entire shop, mouth quirked up in a comfortable smile, and inhaling one more deep breath before pushing out into the world once more and leaving her behind? Why couldn't she stop staring at the empty doorway, gaze raking over the deep mahogany wood and wishing that he was still there?

"He's handsome Mari- seemed nice too." Alya's sly voice broke into her inner pining. Shaking her head and looking around dazedly, Marinette noticed the coffee and snack that her best friend was offering her. "Next time he comes back, you should talk to him."

Gaping at her friend, heat dancing across the bridge of her nose, the small woman sighed in exasperation. "If-" she countered, "If you give Nino your number next time we see him in, I'll make sure to say hello to mystery man if he ever comes back." God, she hoped he would come back.

"Deal." Alya huffed out while crossing her arms and turning to make her way back to the café. Taking pleasure in the flush creeping up the redhead's neck, Marinette thanked her for the food and took a long sip of the coffee. "By the way, his name is Adrien!" Her friend yelled from the back room. She tried to convince herself that the resounding warmth that spread throughout her body was from the coffee and not from the way 'Adrien' bounced around in her mind or how she wondered what the word would feel like rolling off her tongue.

He didn't come back the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Marinette had to conceal a squeal as she watched Alya hand a stunned and blushing Nino a slip of paper on the fourth day, but then sighed wondering if Adrien would be coming in again knowing that she'd definitely have to talk to him now- not that she wasn't anxious to see him again, but she knew talking would be difficult due to the amount of nerves that were already vibrating through her body at the thought.

It had been a full week before she started to worry. What if he never came back? What if he had only been in town for a day and just happened to drop into her little store for a pick-me-up? Oh! What if he hated the coffee and snacks? She'd never see him again!

At a week and a half since his first visit, Marinette sat on the balcony of her apartment, staring out of the City and wondering how she could have thoroughly become obsessed with a person after only seeing him for a couple of minutes. Why did his eyes haunt her memory, itching to trigger where she knew him from?

A car horn honked in the distance before a man yelled. Her eyes shot over to the unexpected sounds and flickered around the scene of shaking fists, bright lights, and shocked pedestrians before landing on an ad plastered to the bus stop shelter. It was him. No wonder he looked familiar! She must have glanced over his face a million times while studying the magazines for the latest fashions.

Marinette's heart sank with disappointment- he was a model- why would he ever want to come back to her little shop when he had so many other places to go- why would he ever waste his time talking to her is she was just plain Marinette?

The following days brought forth a more subdued atmosphere to the shop. Alya had stopped teasing Marinette about her reaction to the stranger after she had called her up with her discovery of just who this Adrien person was. Marinette had stopped anxiously wondering if this would be the day that he stopped back in.

It was Friday evening, they were slow, and Marinette was wasting her time by burying her head in a book on Egyptian pharaohs. The bell chimed above the door and she had to restrain a tried sigh before raising her head to greet the patron. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the gleaming green eyes that had been etched into her memory- his smile was stretched wide across his face, exposing an unknown dimple- his shoulders relaxed as his gaze swept the room before settling directly on her.

She had never been so enthralled. Try as she might, Marinette couldn't tear her gaze from his and her heart pounded loudly behind her ears masking the sound of his footsteps towards her. Enraptured- awed- captivated- whatever it was, she was hungry to see the look etched on into his features. One step and then another.

It hadn't occurred to her to speak until she saw him about to- her pulse thundered below her skin and she could feel the corner of her lips turning up as relief washed over her- he was back, she hadn't missed her opportunity to talk with him.

All of the fears that she had been harboring for the past couple of weeks slipped away as one velvety word slipped past his lips.

"Hello."