"Don't touch me!" Marinette laughed, backing away from Adrien with her hands raised defensively. "I'm covered in flour, and I don't think your Dad will be happy if you get your modelling clothes dirty!"

Adrien pouted, his face falling as he dropped his outstretched arms. The kitchen of the Dupain-Cheng bakery was in its usual state of disarray, with ingredients and utensils scattered over the countertops, but the smell of baking bread which had permeated through the large room told Adrien that Marinette had won the battle between herself and the dough.

Although by the quantity of dough sticking to her apron, it looked like it had put up a good fight.

Adrien let out a tiny sigh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his (admittedly expensive) black jeans, which he wasn't technically supposed to be wearing outside of the modelling shoot. But the bakery had only been a few streets away; besides, wasn't his break meant to be time for him to relax? And where better to do that than in the company of his delightful girlfriend?

Adrien hadn't expected to walk in on Marinette practically wearing the ingredients, but he didn't really care. His arms had opened immediately to hold her, and it was only her reminder that hey, maybe the super expensive model clothes shouldn't be decorated with bread dough that stopped him embracing her.

Marinette giggled at his mournful look, rubbing her hands on her now-white apron, which Adrien was sure used to be pink...

"Sorry Kitty, but I don't want to get on your photographer's bad side," Marinette grinned. "Remember what happened last time?"

The memory of a grown man sobbing on the ground of a children's park because of a smudge of lip gloss on Adrien's collar was one which would never leave him. Children had been staring. Sabrina's father had been called to check the photographer was alright.

It had been an experience, to say the least.

"I know, you're right," Adrien said, moving one had to the back of his head as he glanced to the floor, which had specks of white resting on it in patches. Clearly, bread making was a messy business. "I just missed you, you know?"

Marinette took a step forward, closing the distance between them now that Adrien's clothes were safe from his urge to hug her.

"I saw you yesterday," Marinette replied with a laugh, but there was no viciousness in her words as she moved her arms behind her back. Closing the distance between them, Marinette stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss against Adrien's cheek. "But I know. I missed you, too," she said as she pulled away.

It was always a surprise to Marinette to watch Adrien's reactions after she kissed him; even a small peck on the cheek had him smiling goofily, like he'd seen sunshine bursting through a wall of clouds for the first time.

Adrien looked down at Marinette as she regained her balance, and his wide smile fell somewhat as a look of bewilderment took over his features.

"How have you got flour on your temple? What were you doing to that dough, Princess?" Adrien's hand shot out of his pocket, fingers trailing across the white flecks which were scattered across the side of Marinette's face to remove the flour. Adrien blinked as he realised what he was doing, and moved his hand away; but it was too late – the damage was done. He rubbed his thumb over his flour-stained fingertips, holding his hand away from his clothes and watching the powdery substance fall away in soft clouds.

"Hey, that dough was a nightmare to work with!" Marinette objected. "It was so wet, and I thought it needed more flour, but apparently it was supposed to be wet so I had to re-do the whole thing because the consistency was wrong, and then I nearly dropped the bag of flour and-" Marinette paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself after reliving the stressful events of the morning. "Bread is hard."

Adrien nodded sympathetically, moving to rest his hand on Marinette's shoulder, one of the few places which wasn't stained with some sort of ingredient.

"I'm sure it'll taste great, Marinette. Your baking always does."

Adrien was thrilled to see a light blush creep up Marinette's neck and redden her cheeks at his words. She rolled her eyes, pausing as her gaze landed on Adrien's hand on her shoulder. Marinette frowned, moving her head to face Adrien as she raised an eyebrow.

"Adrien?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"Did you put your flour covered hand on my shoulder to clean it?"

He paused.

"...No?"

"Adrien!"

The hand resting on Marinette's shoulder moved back to Adrien's side in a heartbeat as he put on a picture of innocence, blinking at Marinette whilst giving her a tiny smile.

"It was a gesture of comfort?" Adrien said, but Marinette's unmoving raised eyebrow told her she wasn't buying it. He put his clean hand on his hip, using his slightly less floury hand to rub the back of his neck. "Alright, I'm sorry, it was just too good an opportunity to miss!"

Marinette folded her arms, shaking her head as a reluctant smile played on her lips.

"You're so lucky I'm not flicking flour at you right now."

"Well, you could, but I think the photographer might actually murder me if you get flour on this shirt. So, you know, please say something nice at my funeral," Adrien said with a laugh.

"Speaking of your photo shoot, how long is your break?" Marinette asked. As soon as he'd walked into the bakery, she'd known he was on a break from a shoot; the button up shirt he was wearing was far too nice for everyday wear, even for Adrien Agreste.

Adrien paused, looking at the silver watch which hung on his wrist (which, Marinette noted, had probably been put on him to compliment the emerald of his shirt – a smart move on the designer's part) before his smile turned into a grimace.

"It, uh, ended two minutes ago. Guess it took me longer to get here than I thought," Adrien said, looking up at Marinette with a sheepish grin. She gestured towards the door with her head, her pigtails bobbing with the motion.

"Go on then, Kitty, get out of here. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner, right?"

Adrien strode towards her, cupping Marinette's face in his palms before pressing a firm kiss on her lips. He pulled away, and noted that Marinette had been careful not to put her hands on him to make sure she didn't ruin his clothes. He smiled, leaning his forehead against hers for a moment.

"Definitely," Adrien replied, with only a breath separating them. "Unless I'm killed by my photographer, of course."

He stepped away from Marinette, winking before turning to walk out of the door to the kitchen. Marinette stood, flustered from the action, before her face split into a wide grin as she began to merrily clean the battleground which her parents called the kitchen.

Marinette was so preoccupied with thoughts of the next day and Adrien's impromptu visit, she didn't hear the timer go off.

The bread wasn't burnt too badly, at least. But it was a few months before she dared to try and bake it again.