A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! I was really surprised to read about the true story one of your precious people left in the review! I would probably die if it ever happened to me :D Sending you all some love! 3

5.

The first thing Adrien noticed when he entered the flat was the smell. Like cookies and flower stalls. Sweet and womanly, not pungent, but still easily detectable, causing his stomach to rumble, yet he couldn't bring himself to find it unpleasant. He smiled a little, taking off his coat and hanging it in the entrance hall wardrobe, one of the few places Marinette hadn't gotten to. He removed his shoes and advanced into his living quarters, nervous about what he would find. It was a couple of minutes after nine in the morning.

The second thing he noticed was the sheer amount of clutter in the previously half-empty rooms: an enormous heap of fabric by the sofa, bookshelves bent under the weight of books and dolls (he had to take a double take at that), a black cat pillow on the hastily made bed. She hadn't changed the bed sheets, trusting them to be clean. Nathalie had assured that they would be. The entire place seemed to have been redecorated to look immeasurably worse. There were so many new things that he felt awfully disoriented before suppressing it and grinning widely. If his father ever saw the apartment, he would never believe that Adrien was living there. It was so unlike him that he adored it.

Adrien tried to remember what Nathalie had told him about her. Her parents were bakers? He wondered if all the daughters of bakers lived like this once they left home, the sweet smell of pastries clinging to them long after they were gone. What was it that they said about girls? Right. They were made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Wasn't that what Nathalie meant when she said Marinette was nice?

It was when he went to leave his keys on the kitchen table that he found the cookies. His hand reached out for one even before he saw the note, eager to eat a treat that was normally forbidden to him. Half a cookie in his mouth, the other half crumbling in his hand, he pulled out the note and read it, chocolate melting in his mouth.

He found the pizza in the fridge and helped himself to it immediately. It felt like heaven. If his new roommate kept leaving him food, he could definitely put up with another person living in the apartment. It wouldn't be so bad. They could get along. He was sure of that.

Adrien took a quick shower before setting an alarm and crawling into bed. He would probably wake up without the annoying ringing, eight hours of sleep was more than enough for him, but just in case he didn't, the alarm would make sure he was out of the apartment when his time was up. He decidedly ignored the boxes labeled "clothes" and the painfully bright pink and black carpet on the floor. But he dreamed of them anyway.

He woke up at five, two hours before he had to leave and Marinette came back. He washed his face, and got dressed, jeans and a black T-shirt again, his signature look at Agreste House before being instructed on what to wear, ready to prepare a quick breakfast only to discover the fridge practically empty. He groaned, realizing he had forgotten to buy groceries. He checked the clock on his phone screen and wondered if he had enough time to run by the convenience store when the doorbell rang.

Through the peephole, Adrien could see a delivery man, dressed in red and white with headphones around his neck, holding out a ridiculously appetizing pizza box. He was looking away from the door, humming a joyful tune. Adrien unlocked the door.

"Is that Jagged Stone?" he asked, recognizing the door. The delivery boy whipped around with a wide grin.

"Yeah, dude! You a fan?"

"You could say that." Fan was one way to put it. He had all Jagged Stone's albums on CDs and vinyls, though he kept them hidden between all the classics his father had bought.

"Awesome, dude!" The delivery man's grin widened even more. He held out the pizza box. "Anyway, you ordered a pizza?"

"Sorry, you have the wrong apartment…" Adrien eyed the pizza the same way any hungry man would. "I didn't order anything."

"Oh, man!" The delivery boy moaned dramatically before checking a small piece of paper. "It says 409. Are you sure you didn't order a pizza?"

The blonde was tempted to lie, so that he could get his hands on food that wasn't approved by his dieticians, though his sense of justice overruled that desire. "Certain,"

"Oh well, then…" The man turned around, ready to leave. Adrien was already closing the door, when the man suddenly turned around and spoke again. "Sorry, I lied."

Adrien raised an eyebrow, remaining cautious, door half-closed.

"I was hoping to see the girl who lives here. Saw her yesterday when I delivered," he blabbered, cheeks growing red. "Dude, she's hawt. Would love to bang her." His ears turned red while Adrien's brain was trying to catch up with the meanings behind the pizza boy's words. "She looks like a sexy librarian in those glasses she wears. Think she'd be up for that?"

"Look, dude," Adrien frowned. "That's creepy. You shouldn't be talking about anyone like that to someone you've just met. It's just disrespectful."

"Aw, come on! Don't be like that! Anyway, can you get me her number?"

"No." Adrien looked at him as if he was insane.

"Why not?" The guy whined. "You two dating or something?"

"Not that it's any of your business, no. I would advise you to stay away from this building, if you know what's good for you." The blonde supermodel shut the door in his face. The young lad sighed before straightening himself up and walking away as if nothing had happened between the two. As soon as he was out of the building, he was approached by his accomplice.

"Well?" Alya demanded. "Was Operation Flatmate a success? How was he?"

"Handsome," Nino answered begrudgingly, giving his objective opinion on the guy. "Blonde hair, green eyes. Dressed like a human being."

"Jeans and a T-shirt, I bet," murmured the journalist, noting down the information in her notebook.

"Yup," confirmed the man. "T-shirt was black. Guy's fit. He could probably physically overpower Marinette if he wanted."

"Well, Marinette's stronger than you give her credit for. She can and will pack a punch if necessary." Alya looked at the man who had captured her. "So rich and handsome, that's two things we know about him."

"You can probably add honest to that list." Nino opened the box of pizza, took a slice and bit into it, earning some unhappy glares from other pedestrians nearby. "He defended our girl when I brought out my less than honorable intentions."

Alya laughed, happy that he'd followed her plan to such fine details. "I'm really glad to hear that. Any chance you got his name?"

"Nope. But I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually," he said, devouring his second slice of pizza.

"Yeah… I hope we do." Alya was still a little worried. Unlike Marinette, she had looked up the last name Sancoeur and while there were a handful of people with that name in France, none of them were men. And the only Nathalie Sancoeur in the registry was barely old enough to be a mother to a 27-year old. Something in Alya's gut said she was right that the man and woman were not related.

"You'll get to the bottom of this, Alya. I believe in you." Hearing this, the woman threw her arms around Nino, hugging him to show how grateful she was.

Adrien was a little shocked by his encounter with the pizza boy. Immediately, he got out one of his notepads and wrote down an essay, warning his new roommate about the possible danger. He wanted Marinette to see it as soon as she got home, so he taped it to the first door visible from the entrance, using a pink tape he found lying around. He was pretty sure it was Marinette's.

Then he left, grabbing the last cookie from the plate, determined to get some more food before he had to show up at House Agreste. On his way, he passed a half-Chinese girl, never knowing she was coming from the same place where he was going.

Marinette unlocked the door, exhausted. She had been running around all day, first in her lectures (her philosophy professor had given them a task of finding spots in the university that fit the philosophic school each group had been randomly assigned; Marinette's was Zen), then at the fashion house (how was it so difficult to find the fabric the head designer needed? Wasn't everything labeled?). She was ready to crash and sleep.

Yet there was something stuck on the kitchen door, the light blue paper vibrant against the brown. As soon as she had taken off her shoes, still wearing her coat, she strutted over to the memo. She tore it off, leaving an enormous amount of tape on the door and vowed to clean it up later. Maybe.

Hi, Marinette!

Thanks for the cookies + pizza – you saved my day. Totally forgot to get groceries though. Marinette groaned, remembering that she had to get out for that, too. This may come off weird and I'm sorry for that, but I wanted to give you a heads up and warn you about this man who showed up today. Dark brown hair, tan skin, wears black rimmed glasses and headphones. He showed up as a pizza delivery boy, claiming he was here yesterday. He wasvery persistent and his intentions… well, they weren't honorable. You might want to be careful when you go out in case he's still around.

Under the long paragraph, there was a drawing of a cute black cat with a speech bubble next to it, saying "Stay safe!" Marinette giggled, slipping off her coat before sitting cross-legged on the sofa, phone out. Soon, she was holding it to her ear, waiting for Alya to pick up.

"Hey, Marinette! What's up?" the journalist asked, sounding unusually chipper.

"Hey, Alya! Can you help me with something?"

"Sure thing, sweetie."

"Could you explain why my new flatmate left me a note, saying there's a suspicious guy on the loose and then describing Nino to a T?"

Marinette heard laughter in the background and Nino's voice telling Alya "I told you that she'd find out."

"Sorry, Marinette, but I really wanted to know what kind of person you share a flat with." Alya chuckled. "It just doesn't feel right to leave you in that kind of arrangement."

"Well, what's the verdict? What's he like?" Marinette was a little annoyed at her friends meddling, but curious too. "Does he pass?"

"No," said Alya just as Nino answered "yes" in the background. Marinette could feel the tension on the other side of the call. There was a moment of silence before Alya spoke again.

"He seems decent enough that I don't feel like I have to drag you back to our place, but I'm still not entirely convinced this arrangement is a good idea. But for now, you have my approval."

Marinette grinned. "Super! Keep me updated, alright? I've got to go and get groceries and stuff."

After a two-voice chorus of byes, she hanged up.