A/N: Hello to all new readers and welcome back to all the old ones! Your reviews absolutely made my day! Sending you all some love! 3
7.
As Marinette found out early next day, getting anything edible to a supermodel was not an easily achievable feat. She had gotten out of house earlier than usual, wanting to drop by Agreste House before going to her classes in case Adrien needed his umbrella.
Adrien… The mere thought of him sent a thrill through her heart and made her skin tingle. Her bedtime reading had consisted of his Wikipedia profile which confirmed Marinette's worst fears. He was practically perfect in every way. He played piano, he could speak four languages, he was voted the sexiest man in France three years in a row, yet he was still so kind. He visited sick children in hospitals and donated 10% of his paycheck each month. It was not at all surprising he had won so many hearts.
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you go in there," the security guard informed her. "It's protocol. You can leave the umbrella here."
"But what about the sweets?" Marinette had worked really hard on the macarons. She had made them from scratch. They were easily as good as the ones her parents' bakery sold.
"Sorry, Bug. I know you've got good intentions, but the man has a scary amount of crazy fans."
It made Marinette feel like crap, but she understood where the man was coming from. She sighed.
"That sucks. Will you tell him the umbrella is from me?"
"Sure thing, Bug." The man smiled encouragingly at her. He was old enough to be Marinette's father and he'd taken an instant liking to her, much thanks to the cookies she had brought to everyone on her first day. Some people considered the sweets a bribery, but the security guard was so low in the influence hierarchy in the company that he saw the gesture for what it was, an act of kindness.
"Well, I'll be going then. I've got a lecture at ten. Still gotta pick up my books from my new flat. I'm so lucky it's so close!" Marinette tried to look cheerful despite feeling so defeated, when she waved the security guard goodbye. "See you later!"
She walked back to her apartment, hunching forward as if she was carrying a too-heavy load on her shoulders. Though Marinette was moving slower than usual, she made it back to the apartment with just enough time to scribble out another note for her roommate before leaving again.
The door slammed shut behind Adrien. He was exhausted. His photographer, Vincent had had him pose for several hours, never quite satisfied with the result. He had been in one of his moods, complaining about how he wasn't getting paid enough when one of the female models had turned out to be a complete novice. Adrien didn't mind working with beginners, but it was hard to get natural-looking photos when the person next to him froze up in his presence.
He thought back to Ladybug. Part of him hoped to run into her again. At the very least, she had managed to have an entire conversation with him without telling him how handsome he was. Or trying to touch his hair, something the new models always tried to do. Compared to those women, Ladybug was a breath of fresh air. He hoped they could be friends.
"Yes!" Adrien cheered, noticing a blue box on the kitchen table, hoping it contained more sweet treats. He wasn't disappointed. The macarons looked perfect and once Adrien had hurriedly stuffed one into his mouth, almost afraid of being caught eating sweets, he found they tasted heavenly. His moan would have made Marinette blush.
Adrien then picked up the note and read it, chest filling with warmth and gratitude.
Hey, roomie!
An offering of macarons in exchange for your name? Otherwise I'll have to start calling you Chat Noir or something. Thanks for warning me about the guy! Sorry you had to deal with him! I'll keep my eyes open in case he shows up again, though I really hope he's smart enough to stay away. Don't worry, Chat, I'm actually pretty strong! Adrien chuckled at that, trying to imagine how she'd take care of the shady pizza boy, somehow doubting her strength. Marinette had seemed to anticipate that, because she'd included an explanation. Can't be weak, if you've part-timed half your life in a bakery. Those 10kg flour bags don't lift themselves! So I got plenty of exercise!
Anyway, gotta go. Have a good day!
Marinette
"Flour bags, huh?" he wondered out loud. Adrien had never met someone who interested him as much as Marinette did. So far, she had far exceeded his expectations for a roommate. She kept the flat clean, though she had a questionable doll collection. She was out of the flat when she was supposed to be gone. And most importantly, she gave him sweets. Adrien hoped it would become a regular thing.
Adrien ate one more macaron before deciding to be responsible and get some sleep. Kagami was flying in from Tokyo for a photoshoot and she was going to be unforgiving, if he was anything but prepared for their fencing practice after it. Kagami didn't enjoy modeling, but it paid better than sport, so she graced Agreste House whenever she was requested. Adrien made sure it wasn't too often, both for Kagami's sake and everyone else's.
Waking up was a painful process. His body ached, demanding for more rest, but he forced himself to get up, painfully aware that he had to vacate the apartment soon. He got his clothes out of the wardrobe almost automatically, not even looking at the woman's side which was like a rainbow compared to his black and blue. He dressed and left for Starbucks forty minutes before his time was up. Marinette had treated him twice and he wanted to do something to her in kind.
He didn't know what she liked, but ventured a guess she liked her coffee sweet based on the food that had appeared in the kitchen overnight. The sheer amount of Nutella would have been enough to drive Adrien's dietitian nuts, not to mention the reaction everything else would get out of the poor woman.
The barista greeted him with a smile. She was short and chubby, though she never seemed to be bothered by it, even when she spent most of her days making coffee for people whose job was to advertise the exact opposite body type. Adrien liked her, because she treated him almost like he was normal.
"Hi, Mylène," he greeted her. Adrien had learned her name when he had realized the person behind the counter was always the same when he went.
"Hi, Adrien," she peeked at him shyly. "Same as usual?" Adrien's answer was always the same, so even though she had just asked, she was already starting to prepare the order.
"Almost," Adrien grinned. Mylène looked up at him, surprised to see him so happy. "My usual and… a large hot chocolate with whipped cream." He almost ordered coffee for Marinette. But even though seven p.m. wasn't too late, he didn't know her caffeine habits and preferred to err on the side of caution. He made a mental note to ask her about that.
Mylène stared at him in silent curiosity for a moment before inputting his finalized order. "Coming right up."
Unable to contain his excitement, Adrien looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to them before leaning forward and whispering conspiratorially. "It's for a girl. But I want it to be a surprise, so don't write my name on the cup."
Mylène's eyes widened but she nodded, understanding. While she prepared Adrien's drinks, the man checked his time. He still had enough time to make it back to the apartment, though he was certainly cutting it close this time. Intentionally, since hot drinks were best enjoyed hot. He didn't even consider the option of Marinette running late.
Adrien was off a couple of minutes later, drinks in hand. He was in a good mood, his cat-like grin earning more than a few looks from people who recognized him. A woman with reddish brown hair took a photo of him, but since she never approached him, he didn't care. It wasn't the first time people photographed him without asking first.
Back at the apartment, he placed the hot chocolate on top of the note he had written earlier. It was longer than any of hers had been, full of questions that she would hopefully answer, so that they could get to know each other a little better. When he was leaving, the photo of him holding two cups was already online in the gossip columns of nearly all Parisian newspapers with the question that made young women weep and young men sigh in relief: who was the second coffee for?
Marinette's mood had gotten worse throughout the day. First, she had been unable to give Adrien the macarons. Then she'd been late to her lecture, earning a warning from her professor that if she was late one more time, she would not pass the class (something her course mate had later assured her to be a lie). To make matters worse, she'd missed lunch to work on the Chinese mythology design only to be stuck with a designer's block. Her internship had thankfully passed quietly, though she was tired and hungry and sad. And then, once she was about to leave the fashion house, Alya had texted, giving her a heads up before she could read it from a gossip magazine that Adrien Agreste had been spotted buying coffee for someone, something he never did, not even when he had dated his childhood friend Chloé Bourgeois who, as rumors said, still harbored feelings for him.
Exhausted and unhappy, Marinette curled up on the sofa before noticing a paper cup on the kitchen table. She got up, sauntered over and picked it up. It was still warm. She removed the green splash stick and inhaled the sweet aroma of hot chocolate. Feeling tears coming on, for that's how moved she was, she grabbed the note and the cup and moved back to the sofa.
Hey, Marinette!
I don't know about giving you my name, Chat Noir is just about purrfect for me ;) The woman groaned, taking a long sip from the cup to deal with the pun. The macarons were so good. Where did you get them? You might have started an addiction! That got a small smile out of her. Or did you make them yourself? Because if you did, marry me?
Marinette snorted, dropping the note and picking up her phone. She took a photo of his message and sent it to Alya, knowing she'd want to know immediately. Not ready to declare her roommate totally creepy, she took another sip of the hot chocolate and continued reading.
By the way, can I ask you some questions? It feels a little weird to share a place with someone and not know anything about them. You can ask me anything too, if you want. Don't feel pressured to answer. I won't kick you out :D
On the other side of the paper, there was a list of mostly harmless questions. Marinette's phone rang and she picked it up, holding it away from her ear, expecting Alya to yell into the microphone. And that's what the journalist did.
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng! I told you this guy is trouble! You can't marry a guy you've never even met!"
"Oh man, and I already accepted his proposal. What do I do?" Marinette laughed in mock-panic. She heard a snort from her phone and knew immediately that Nino was there next to Alya.
"Marinette! This is serious! What if he forces himself on you?" The woman sounded so panicked that Marinette almost regretted sharing Chat Noir's note with her.
"Oh please," huffed Marinette. "My sweets aren't that good."
"Nino asked you to marry you after you fed him!" Alya countered. Next to her, Nino choked, face turning red at the memory, muttering a barely audible "You did that too!" that his fiancée strategically ignored.
"And look where it got him. He's getting married to you. Aren't you worried that Chat Noir is going to be out for your heart, too?"
Alya groaned. "Marinette, I'm ready to choke someone. So tell me before I kill Nino. What exactly does he want to know?"
Marinette looked at the questions and read it out loud: "Number one: what's your favorite color? Number two: which would you rather have, a cat or a dog? Number three: what music do you like? Number four: do you like video games? And last but not least, number five: do you have any siblings?"
"That's not too bad," Nino commented while Alya was gathering her wits.
"Yeah," she agreed. "But that doesn't mean anything, Marinette. And he doesn't want to tell you his name? That's seriously creepy. Like, decent people have no reason to keep their name a secret. Ergo, he's not a decent person."
"Alya, I'm pretty sure he's as normal as you or me. Maybe he's just wary of me, you know?"
"Or he's just lulling you into a false sense of security before striking!"
"You won't let that happen, will you?" Marinette mused, finishing her drink, opting to leave out the fact he'd gotten her hot chocolate. "Anyway, I've got to go and get started on dinner. And homework."
"You better call me tomorrow morning to let me know you're alive, Marinette," Alya warned before finishing the call.
Marinette shook her head, smiling. She thought Alya was overreacting. Chat Noir had been nothing but nice to her since she moved in. The apartment felt safe, comfortable, very much like her parents bakery. She remembered what her mother had once said about the atmosphere: the qi of a place reflected the people who lived there. And here, the qi made her feel like she could trust Chat Noir.