"Beep! Beep! Beep!" A tiny, anxious voice dragged Marinette from her blissful sleep.
Groaning and blinking bleary eyes, she rolled over to find herself face to face with a small scarlet kwami. "Tikki? What the heck are you doing?"
"You told me I had to wake you up in time for your first lecture!" Tikki said, eyes huge. "And you turned off your phone alarm IN YOUR SLEEP! I've never seen anyone do that before."
"Ughhh," said Marinette eloquently.
"It's quarter to eight," the kwami went on earnestly, "and you said you wanted time to get lost on your way to the lecture hall—"
"Okay, okay, I'm getting up." Marinette rubbed her eyes, trying to pull her brain together into a semblance of wakefulness. The realisation that she was about to walk into a room of total strangers gave her a sudden jolt of anxiety, and on the horrifying thought that she might be late in front of everyone, she jumped out of bed.
The university building she needed to get to was a good twenty-minute walk away, so she had plenty of time to ponder the strangeness of all the firsts she had been confronted with this week on the way. It seemed surreal that she was simultaneously gearing up for her first university lecture and strategising for her new role as superhero. The two things just didn't line up in her head.
It had only been a few days since Tikki had entered her life, and so far not much had changed. Tikki required a regular supply of baked goods, but not much else, and had turned out to be a genuine source of companionship. Marinette already loved her kind, sweet nature and the way she constantly encouraged Marinette to do and be her best. She thought of her new partner, Chat Noir, who had also seemed like a decent guy, if slightly goofy.
Easy on the eyes, too, her brain commented without warning. Marinette's eyes widened and she stepped a little faster, cheeks hot. Not that that makes a single bit of difference to anything!
She was trying to reorganise her thoughts and plan how she was going to explain tonight's patrol to Alya, who had suggested a film night, when something else completely scattered them.
"Mari!" It was Adrien's voice.
Oh no.
If there was one thing Marinette had learned over the past couple of weeks since moving into flat 3B, it was that she should never, ever be alone with Adrien. If Nino or Alya or both were there, she could just about ignore the devastating effects his wide green eyes had on her whenever they turned in her direction, and was capable of holding up some sort of brain–mouth filter before her scattered thoughts. If they weren't… Well, the one and only time he'd accidentally cornered her in the kitchen, she'd dropped a spoon on his foot, spilled orange juice all over the counter, and become so hot in the face that she probably could have cooked her lunchtime omelette on it.
It was therefore with grim resignation that she glanced back to see him – tall, broad-shouldered, effortlessly handsome in a grey tailored coat – eagerly making his way towards her through the crowd of students.
"Mari!" he repeated as he drew level with her. It was a nickname Nino had coined, and while she liked it when he or Alya used it, it did horrible, unfair things to the pit of her stomach when Adrien said it. She groaned internally, feeling the tell-tale flush already mounting in her cheeks. Here we go.
"Hey!" she said weakly, lifting her hand in some kind of idiotic wave.
"I'm on my way to my first lecture!" he told her excitedly. "Plasma physics and applications. It's going to be so cool."
A little part of Marinette died at the confirmation of something she'd suspected for a while now – that Adrien Agreste was a total geek. Why did he constantly just make this harder for her? Couldn't he at least do her the courtesy of revealing himself to be careless, or unkind, or arrogant? Maybe he always left the toilet seat up, or didn't pick up his towel after showering. That would definitely make her feel better. She made a mental note to ask Nino about it.
"I've got my first one at nine too," she said, grateful that she hadn't managed to accidentally say the word 'toilet' aloud. "Which way are you going?"
It turned out that the physics department was situated on the street behind the building she was heading to, which was just great. They'd be walking along together for almost ten more minutes. Marvellous. She scrambled for conversation topics that would be unlikely to lead towards her blurting out that she wouldn't mind having his babies, if he happened to be looking for someone to do it.
She was about to mention the weather, which probably wouldn't risk it, when he lifted his hand to brush a lock of perfectly golden hair out of his perfectly green eyes and she caught sight of the enormous takeaway cup he was holding.
"What's that?" she demanded.
"Oh, this?" Adrien regarded his cup. "It's a white chocolate mocha Frappuccino. Do you want to try it?"
Marinette stared longingly at the horrifying concoction. She could practically hear the horror in her father's voice. We are French! We drink real coffee – not the disgusting, sugared, calorie-loaded rubbish the Americans like!
"Yeah," she admitted. "I've never had a Starbucks."
Adrien gave her a blinding grin that almost stopped her in her tracks. He was so beautiful, it was just patently unfair. "Hey, guess what?" He leaned in conspiratorially. Something in her brain fizzed and short-circuited. She hoped it wasn't anything important. "I hadn't either until today. It's amazing."
It took her a moment to register that he was holding the cup out to her. Shifting her book satchel to her other shoulder, she took it – making sure not to brush his fingers; a girl could only handle so many heart attacks in a day – and sipped cautiously through the straw. An explosion of sweetness hit her tongue, and her eyes widened.
"Oh, wow. That's incredible." Damn Americans.
"Have some more!" he urged her. "They gave me a bigger cup than I expected."
She obeyed, partly because the drink really was delicious, and partly because it meant that she didn't have to think of something else to say for the next few moments. She was acutely aware of him next to her, the energy in his long strides, the tousled hair he'd shoved to one side of his forehead, the way he towered over her. It was also impossible to ignore how many of the girls – and some of the guys – ogled him, either openly or covertly, as he walked by. She wondered if he noticed, or whether it had just become routine to him for people to stare. She wasn't sure whether it made her feel better or worse. Perhaps he didn't notice her odd behaviour – or perhaps he was just being kind enough to ignore it.
"Thanks," she said at last, handing the Frappuccino back to him. "And sorry for intruding on your first Starbucks experience."
He took it with another dazzling smile. "Not at all! It's even nicer to be able to share it with a friend."
Oh, just kill me right where I stand, why don't you?
"If Nathalie could see me now," he added, eyes dancing with a sudden mischief that reminded her for a second of someone else, though she couldn't work out who, "she'd have kittens."
Grasping at any straw that might distract her, Marinette repeated, "Nathalie?"
She immediately noticed how something in his expression, some light that had been shining behind his eyes, dimmed.
"Oh, she was just my… my father's assistant. She tutored me as well. She, uh… she was pretty strict. She would make me track my calories in an app she had access to, and if I went over – or if she caught me eating something I didn't record – well, let's just say she wasn't pleased."
Marinette stared at him in horror. "She what? What would she do to you?"
Adrien gave her a sideways glance. He seemed to regret having brought it up, and she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but that sounded bad.
"Oh, not much," he said in a voice that was probably meant to be casual. "Usually I'd be sent to my room, or else I wasn't allowed to attend my extracurricular activities, like fencing lessons. It wasn't that bad a punishment, honestly. It was just that that was kind of my socialisation quota, so I did my best to avoid upsetting Nathalie. It's easier that way anyway, right?"
Marinette wanted to give him the reassurance she could sense he was desperately seeking, but her mind felt frozen. She'd known, or thought she'd known, that just because someone was rich, famous and incredibly beautiful it didn't mean they were happy – but she'd never been confronted with such a blatant example of it.
"What did your parents think of that?" she whispered, looking down at her laced boots as she walked, knowing she probably shouldn't be asking.
"My mother…" he said quietly. "My mother is – gone."
Marinette jerked her head up to stare at him. "What?"
He reached out and grabbed her upper arm, yanking her backwards. "Hey, careful!"
Slightly dazed, she realised that she'd almost walked directly into a road full of busy traffic. Oops.
Adrien's face was shadowed as he stared at – or perhaps through – the cars and buses rushing past. She didn't know him that well, but the hardness of his expression, of his clenched jaw and set lips, felt unfamiliar somehow. He seemed so open and friendly, always offering a smile at the least provocation; it was wrong, she thought, for that softness to be gone. She felt a blinding, irrational flash of hatred towards whoever had taken it from him.
"I'm sorry," she said after a moment, adjusting the strap on her bag so she didn't have to make eye contact. "That was a really personal question. You really don't have to answer it."
When she looked at him this time, she almost thought she must have imagined the pain on his face. His green eyes were gentle once more, a slight smile curving his lips.
"Don't apologise," he said. "It's nice that you asked. I just… I don't really know how to talk about it. I haven't talked about it to anyone." The confession was rushed, tumbling out of him as they hurried across the pedestrian crossing amid a crowd of students. "I want to, but I also don't. I know that doesn't make any sense."
"It makes perfect sense," Marinette disagreed. "I understand. At least as much as I can. If… if you ever do want to talk about it, just let me know." They'd come to a halt now and she offered him a tentative smile, hoping she wasn't being too pushy.
His face lit up. "Thanks! I really appreciate that. I think I'd like to, some time. Just maybe not now." He gestured around them. "I think this is your stop?"
"Oh!" Marinette felt like an idiot. "Yes, it is. Uh – thanks for the drink."
"No problem! Hey, do you have this lecture every week on Tuesdays?"
She blinked. "Yes?"
"Awesome! I want to try every kind of Frappuccino Starbucks sells. You can help me taste test on Tuesday mornings!" Adrien offered her the cup, which was three-quarters empty by now. "One last sip?"
She took one, feeling as if her whole body had just gone numb. Had he just suggested they make a regular… date? Not a date, she corrected herself. Just a walk. Get a grip, you idiot.
Still, despite Adrien's troubling revelations, despite her uneasiness at whatever he was unable to talk about that could crush his sunny disposition like that, despite the anxiety suddenly threatening to swallow her up as she headed towards her lecture hall, Marinette felt a little bit like she was dancing on air. She'd survived a whole conversation with him without embarrassing herself too much, and she had the opportunity to do it again. Not bad for a Tuesday morning.
It wasn't until she was halfway through the lecture and deep into taking notes that she suddenly realised they'd drunk through the same straw.
Her lips had touched the same place his mouth had!
It was pretty hard to focus on the lecture after that.