This one was written for anon, who requested number 41 and Adrienette.

41: Kisses shared under an umbrella.

Umbrella

Rain falls in a whispery song, still gentle.

"Marinette!"

She pauses at the top of the steps, looking back over her shoulder. Adrien approaches with a familiar umbrella. His smile is as lovely as it was the first time he'd caught her off guard—the day lightning had struck and entwined her heart with his.

"A-Adrien."

He takes her hand and gently pulls her closer so she is standing under the umbrella with him. Heat spills over her cheeks. They're so close that she has to crane her neck back to meet his gaze. A raindrop drips from her fringe and gets caught in her eyelashes. She blinks, wiping at the offending drop. He has yet to let go of her hand.

"Is it true?" he asks.

"Is what?"

"Do you … do you really like me?"

Her heart freezes and flails like some graceless thing, and her eyes widen. How does he know? Why is her asking her this? She's not prepared. Not prepared for all her bubble of romantic fantasies to be popped or for him to—

But wait. He's still holding her hand. He's still smiling.

Is this good?

She blinks, trying to process what she's seeing beyond the scream of panic blaring in her mind. He gives her hand a light squeeze.

"Marinette," he says again, softer this time. So soft his voice is like a caress. "Is it true?"

"I …" Her face gets hotter. She bites her lip, looks to the side, looks back at him. A small nod.

He grins. It's bright and warm and stirs flutters in her stomach. "I'm really, really glad," he murmurs.

"W-why?"

"Because …" He dips his head even as he continues to hold the umbrella over them, sheltering them both from the rain. Her breath hitches at the unexpected proximity. "Because I really like you too."

Her heart stumbles and then speeds up, faster and faster. Their lips are so close. He holds her gaze for a second—a silent request for permission—and a swell of dizzy giddiness fills her as she realises this is happening. Adrien likes her, he really likes her, and now he's asking her if he can kiss her.

She leans up on her tiptoes and let's their lips brush once, twice and then in a third, lingering kiss. Their eyes meet. Rosy colour dusts both their cheeks.

"Can I walk you home?" he asks.

She smiles shyly. "I'd like that."