"Adrien, where are you going in such a hurry?" I look up to see my father watching me as I hurriedly pack my bag for Mama Cheng's art class. "Art class. You know, the one you signed me up for?" "Oh, that class. As I recall, you and Miss Dupain-Cheng were playing around with the paint getting dirty." I sling my bag over my shoulder, trying not to let my temper get to me. "Her name's Marinette. And the playing after, so we were allowed to have fun." "You could better. Find another model to date, and you could tour the world." I suck in a deep breath. "Stay out of my private affairs, Father!"

I leave him in my room, grumbling as I head outside. But luckily, my temper is quick and short, and I'm feeling better as I step into the art room. Today we are practicing calligraphy, and Mama teaches us how to make our brushes swoop and guilde across the paper.

"Need some help?" Marinette asks, climbing onto the empty stool next to me. "Yeah." I'm trying to make the words for rain, but my hand is all wobbly and shaky. "Here," she takes my hand with her feather-light touch and guides my across the paper. I nearly make a zing-zag by accident as a electric shock goes through my system, but I settle just in time. "Okay, I'm going to let go now."

My calligraphy isn't bad for the first time, but I want to keep working on it, even when I'm not in class. Mama Cheng calls class to a close. "Does anyone have any questions about today's lesson?" she asks. I raise a shaky hand, cheeks red. "Could someone use calligraphy for a love poem?" The class laughs politely, and Mama Cheng grins. "Of course. Art can tell stories, and who doesn't love a good love story after all?"

"Wanna stay and hang out?" Marinette asks, as we do our daily clean-up routine. "Sure. What did you have in mind?" "Oh, I thought we could draw each other." "I'm in."

We face our easels so that we can see each other, but not the canvas. "Father got on my nerves this morning," I open to Marinette. "He wants me to date a model and that he doesn't like you. I told him to stay out." "Good for you for sticking up for yourself." "I don't want to date a model. I like you, Marinette. While the rest of Paris sees Adrien Agreste as just some poster-boy or a image, you see the real me."

"I may not be famous, but I feel like you and Cat are the only ones who see the real me. And when I'm with you…" Marinette's eyes grow soft. "My heart feels whole."

"I'm done with mine, if your done with yours." "Okay. One, two, three…." we turn our pictures at the same time, and I gasp. On one half of the canvas is me as Cat and Marinette, a gold key with a heart on it. The other side is me as Cat Noir and Ladybug detransforming. "Why is Cat in the picture, Marinette? And why Ladybug?" "I can't say all of it, Adrien, but I wish you were Cat, and not because I love the goofy, floofy, playful side of you only. The more I spend time with both you it gets harder to choose who I will give my heart too."

"I may not have painted you as Ladybug, but I hope you like it." I painted Marinette inside a bluebell flower, a pink sky of dawn surrounding her. "The pink shows your kindness and gentleness, and the blue shows your shyness and quietness. But I don't need a loud girl or one that's all about themselves. Even without the mask, your my Ladybug."

"Oh, Adrien," Marinette sniffles and I stand up. "Hey, its okay. Did I upset you in anyway?" I open my arms for a hug, and she walks straight in.

We get coffee and then I have to head home, even though I rather go to Marinette's. I practice the piano for most of the afternoon, not because I' m forced to, but want to lose myself in the music.

Finally, with stomach growling, I head down to dinner, finding the kitchen lights dim and dark. "Father?" I rap on the office door, surprised when it opens slowly, giving me chills. It isn't like Father to leave the house, but he can leave if he wishes. Heading back to my room, I order chicken fried rice.

I want to come up with a calligraphy poem, so I work on that before going to bed.

I sit bolt upright in bed, sweat covering my forehead for I had a nightmare about Marinette. Yet, I know something is wrong, I shake Plagg. "Plagg, I need to transform. Marinette's in danger!"

Plagg must sense the fear in my voice, and it feels like a second, before I'm leaping up to the rooftops and towards Marinette's.

I begin to cough and my eyes water, smoke is filling the air around me. I gasp in horror as I see the Dupain-Cheng bakery is on fire, and I need to save Marinette and her family. Thankfully, the fire seems to be contained to just the bakery for the moment, but my eyes water as I pound up the stairs to the apartment. I twist the knob, then cataclysm the door, and hurry up the stairs.

"Fire! We need to get out of here!" I yell, waking Marinette's parents. "Sweetie, what on earth is going on?" "We need to get Marinette and get out of here. The bakery is on fire!"

I dash upstairs, surprised to see Marinette still up. "Princess, we have to leave, now!" "Cat, what-" I hold out my hand. "Just trust me, and I'll keep you safe."

We make it down to the front doors but getting Marinette's parents out took some time. The doorknob is to hot to turn. "Princess, I'm sorry, but there's no other choice. We have to go through the bakery!"

Orange flames lick wickedly at the walls,.and the smoke is thick. A gold glint catches my eye, and I freeze. "Cat, we need to move!" Marinette yanks on my arm. I pluck the pin from the floor and hurry after her, making it out the door before a beam tumbles down behind us.

Tom and Sabine stand like statues, watching their livelihood go up in smoke. "Oh, who would do such a horrid wicked thing!" I open my hand to comfort her, when the words "Gabriel Agreste" are written across the pin. "Gabriel Agreste," I say, dropping the pin into Papa's hand. I didn't think he'd stoop this low to keep away from Marinette, but he has. "You saved our lives, Cat," Marinette says. Its time. "No, Marinette, Adrien Agreste did. Claws In."

With a green flash, and Plagg flying out of my ring, the alderine slows down and I black out sliding to the concrete.