Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie

It was a small and humble patisserie, Sarabella noted. She took in every crenulation and detail the shop has to show. Not bad, she thought. For a minute, she had forgotten the attractive native, who sat across her from the small round table. They were waiting for their orders so the ravenette assumed that looking around and scrutinizing the specifics would create a different perception on what she already know in the field of her career.

Unknown to her, Adrien was taking in every last bit of facial feature she has. He started from the mop of slightly wavy black hair that stopped a little bit past her shoulders. It wasn't too silky and it wasn't too luscious to look at. Her eyebrows were thick yet it curved in such a manner that it looks gorgeous as it is. The eyes were not too big or too small for her over-all look and those deep brown eyes showed the native a lot about her personality. He can see the excitement that her orbs showed because it seems to have been sparked with interest for the last several minutes already.

What had the French model gaze at her dreamily were her eyelashes and lips. The foreigner's long eyelashes curved upwards, darkened and highlighted with mascara. Her lips were full and it's shape was accented perfectly with her lipstick, tinted with a playful pink. Adrien thought of how many guys would've taken the chance just to kiss her—

He shook his head and scolded himself for being such a creep. His inner Chat Noir was talking within him, urging the young Parisian to be straight-forward and be friends with her at least. But to him, Adrien is Adrien and Chat Noir is Chat Noir. The boy had an agreement to himself that he'll never ever try to mix up these two of his personas together.

Sarabella accidentally made eye contact and instantly looked away, flushed like a teenager. A petite Asian-looking woman walked towards their table, started putting down their orders and smiled at them as she left, saying a very kind yet brief bon a petit. The ravenette gave a shy merci which she was sure that the lady didn't hear it.

She felt the piercing gaze of the Parisian model so Sarabella kept herself from looking up. Bashfully taking a bite off of her éclair, she chewed it slowly and let the indulgent taste seep through her tongue. "These-These are the best éclairs that I have ever tasted." The ravenette said with her tacky French accent, hopeful that she can make a decent conversation with the native to lessen his probable already-negative-image-of-her-and-her-home-country. "Thank you for bringing me here."

"You insisted." He smiled politely, a croissant in hand, "And besides, I can't say no to a pretty lady's treat."

Sarabella cringed at the part where he called her a 'pretty lady'. Most girls, under any circumstance, would've died of joy at that moment, but she was not part of most of the girls. Instead, she groaned in agony, "Please don't be mad at me that I unintentionally called you a 'handsome boy'."

The native laughed at her reaction, "Not to worry. I'll try to forget the Eiffel Tower Ordeal."

"Great. Now you have a name for that incident." Sarabella wanted to dig herself a hole and die within it so she could overlook about this horrible first day. She wasn't sure if the French was just teasing her or he's subtly attacking and getting revenge on her at this point.

"I'm sorry." The blond apologized, "I was just teasing!"

I had that feeling but wasn't sure so I reacted that way, sorry, is what she wanted to tell him but instead, with a faint pout that decorated her features, Sarabella said, "I know… but it's embarrassing."

"Don't be!" The Parisian smiled at her softly. "I won't-"

"A-Adrien!" A tall girl approached their table, "How are you? W-What brought you here?" She said, stammering a little upon the presence of her long-time crush.

The ravenette took in her features. Sarabella knew that girl was a lot taller than her, probably only a few centimeters away from the Parisian guy she just encountered. The girl had short black hair, in a low twin-tails and has a few random streaks of blue highlights on her side-swept bangs, which halts just until her shoulders. She has sky blue orbs for irises and a very flawless pale skin.

The Parisian girl's features struck a pang of insecurity on Sarabella's deflating ego. If every Parisian girl was as pale and as white as this pretty girl in front of her, she would probably casted out by her university community.

Why do I have to be so tan?! She internally screamed at herself. If I wasn't born in a place where the sun doesn't shine so much and is a little bit further to the equator—

"Let's just say that a very stubborn foreigner dragged me here." Her reverie was shattered when the Parisian made eye contact with her deliberately, smiling at her like child.

It took a few minutes for her to process what he said but she understood and exclaimed, "H-Hey!"

The Parisian girl took notice of the blond's company, blinking twice, then back at the blond, then back at the ravenette. "Is she your girlfriend?" The stranger asked in a hushed voice. However, regardless of Sarabella's unfamiliarity and lack of fluency with the French language, she heard it clear enough to process what the girl had just asked.

The architect blushed and decided to not engage in their conversation. Sarabella took a huge bite of her éclair, only to regret it a little bit sooner than later.

"Ah, no. She's a friend." Sarabella heard the Parisian boy answer, "Marinette, this is... What was your name again?" Both the Parisian's attention was fully and undivided towards the foreigner.

The shocked ravenette tried to gulp her éclair to answer but fate had other plans. Sarabella choked a bit on the pastry, coughing softly, until a large chunk of the pâte à choux decided to scrape her esophagus – hard- which resulted in her having a coughing fit.

The Parisian guy, luckily, asked for some water beforehand and gave it to her immediately. Sarabella gratefully took the water and took a big mouthful. She waited for a few minutes to pass, hoping that it was all a dream but it wasn't.

Great! Juuuuust great! She sarcastically told herself. First the Eiffel Tower incident. And now the Éclair incident. The foreign girl wanted to leave the two natives, looking at her with concern, and just jump of the freaking Eiffel tower. "I-I haven't told you yet but I'm-I'm Sarabella!" She stuttered in reply to the earlier question of the attractive French, hoping that the conversation won't be awkward due to her innate gaucheness.

The Parisian nodded gradually at her, getting her tone and desperation to remove herself from the hot-seat. "This is… Sarabella. Sarabella, this is Marinette. She's a former classmate of mine back in college."

The Parisian girl beamed at her, "Nice to meet you."

Sarabella just smiled back at Marinette, her energy drained from all the chaos and series of unfortunate events that had happened to her. It would've been actually nice to meet the natives if I wasn't so damn clumsy and awkward.

A/N:

I have been using the word 'blonde' for the wrong reason in the past chapter, I'm sorry! So, to those who aren't aware, I'm explaining this because the more you know, right?

Blonde – term used for the ladies
Blond – term used for the men

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