Adrien sighed at the scene before him. The young maid was visibly blushing at the mess she had made.

"Again, what exactly happened?" Adrien asked, not really needing to hear, but just needing to process it again.

"I wanted to apologize for making such a fuss earlier. I thought I would help by washing the lunch dishes for you. I also wanted to get some nice flowers for the dinner table tonight as a favor for Mistress Dupain. I guess I must have gotten mixed up. I left the water running while I ran out to the garden."

Adrien surveyed the scene again. The shattered vase, the standing water, the scattered roses.

"And the vase?" He asked.

Rose covered her face with her hands.

"I dropped it when I saw the water everywhere. I wasn't even thinking!"

Clearly not.

"Very well. Are you hurt?" Adrien asked.

Rose's eyes widened as she looked up at him. She began to stammer out something.

"Rose, the glass. Did it cut you?"

Rose seemed to snap out of it. She shook her head.

"No. I'm not hurt. I'm just so ashamed of myself."

Adrien nodded.

"Why don't you go take a break. I'll take care of this, don't worry yourself about it."

Rose nodded and quickly left the room, leaving Adrien to himself.

"Honestly, as if this is an effective apology," he sighed, shaking his head.

Not that she needed to apologize. The butterfly had controlled her against her will and had made its own trouble independent of her. She really hadn't needed to trouble herself, though he supposed it had been a well-intentioned gesture.

The piano complained loudly as Marinette again played a chorus of painfully incorrect notes. Her hands seemed to be running into the keys rather than playing them. She groaned inwardly as Adrien bid her continue.

"Can't you see I'm just not made for this kind of thing?" Marinette complained, relaxing her posture and hanging her head.

"No one is made for the piano," Adrien said, "The piano is made for the people. The instrument is not the one playing you, you must be the one in control. Let your fingers relax. You strain your hands too much in an attempt to not make mistakes."

Marinette scoffed.

"Can't we just call practice off for today?" she offered.

Adrien shook his head.

"We cancelled your dance lessons because of the earlier disturbance. We cannot afford to have you falling behind in all of your studies because of one inconvenience. Now, continue the piece."

Marinette sighed, placing her hands back on the keys. She began playing the piece again, having no more skill than she had previously. Her movements were choppy and forceful, and she knew that was the bulk of her problem, but she didn't know how to fix it.

A pair of gloved hands laid on top of her own, and her face grew red with surprise. Adrien lined his fingers up with hers, but his hands were much more relaxed, looking natural on the keys.

"Your fingers should curve naturally, like so, and the palm of your hand should never touch the keys. Do not move your hand up and down with each keystroke. Only your fingers should move with each note," He whispered in her ear.

Glancing over, Marinette saw that his focus was entirely on the keys, he wasn't looking toward her, despite their proximity.

His fingers began moving, making hers move as well. His palms were completely stationary, seeming to float independently of his moving fingers. He guided her hands through the piece, lightly pressing each key in the sequence.

"Your hands should move from key to key like a butterfly between flowers,"

Marinette flicked his hands off of her own with a snap. She turned to him with a fiery glare, which was met with his own curious gaze.

"What the hell?" she asked.

Adrien shrugged. "I have no reason to think you will react badly to me referencing butterflies, as you refused to tell me of any such thing. Am I mistaken in my belief that there is nothing to make you dislike them?"

Marinette bit her tongue. She hated how he could always make her feel obligated to explain.