Adrien walked with Marinette towards the park. Her cerulean eyes glistened in the bright paris afternoon sunlight. They chatted about everything and nothing, and by the time Marinette had walked him home, he couldn't deny that she was a pretty cool person. He looked forward to seeing her on the next day.

When he walked into his house, he reported to nathalie, his father's assistant, the way he usually did, like a good child. He told her about his first day in actual school, no he didn't have homework, yes it was nice. He quickly found his way up to his room and collapsed on his bed.

Adrien closed his eyes, replaying his first day of school. Replaying…

Marinette walked up to him, like an angel in black. His own personal demon. He chuckled at the thought. She wasn't his. But her pale paper-white skin, her black lipstick, her gentle hands had guided him around school that day. That tinkling laugh and melodic voice making conversation with him so he wasn't lonely for a moment. Black boots tapping the ground in a steady beat, walking him home. Yeah, she wasn't his.

But did he want her to be?