Adrien was bouncing up and down on his too-massive bed, twisting his new toy every which way. He'd never had a phone before!

Wait, no, it wasn't a toy. It was a phone. A very adult thing, and he would look very mature with it. He just had to set it up, and then he could text Chloe! It couldn't be that hard, right? Not for such a smart adult-kid. Adrien worked at it until the sun was setting, blinding him with those massive golden rays. He knew his mom would come back in about a half hour to catch the end of the sunset with him and tuck him into bed. Since he was being so mature, he could even get ready before she came in! She'd be so proud of him. Maybe even Father would!

Yeah, right. Adrien shrugged his little shoulders, sliding off his bed and letting out a little 'oof' when his cat-socked feet hit the floor. Mom told him not to let his father's cold attitude bother him. "He's always like a wall." She said. "Now, anyway."

He didn't know what she meant. Brushing it off, Adrien walked over to the dresser, as tall as he was, and found himself an outfit for bed. It didn't take him very long to get changed, and tidy his room up a little too. Then he brushed his teeth, dragging the stool out from underneath the toilet and putting it back when he was done. Then–

HIS PHONE DINGED! Adrien sprinted, giggling, to his bed and threw himself up onto it, rolling over until he could reach for his new device and open it. Chloe had answered his text!

Chlooooo: hi

Chlooooo: is this adrikins

Adrien wrinkled his nose. Chloe sounded meaner over text than in person. But that was just because he couldn't see her!

Adrien: ya its me!

Adrien: tpyng on her is hard!

It really was. All the letters were in the wrong order, and the spaces were too small for his chubby kid fingers. But he was determined. He'd seen his mother's lithe fingers flying over her keyboard, and she'd promised that if he did good with his phone, she would get him a laptop of his own and teach him how to use it. When he was a bit older, of course.

Chlo: u wanna get ice cream?

The first text with punctuation! Adrien bounced, sinking deep into his soft mattress. Maybe if he asked his mom–

His phone buzzed and he dropped it, mouth making a perfect little 'o' at the weird vibrating in his hand. The texts had disappeared, but now there were numbers floating across the screen. It was his mom's phone number! He sat for a moment, debating which button he should press to hear her. When his father got mad, he always pressed the red button. Adrien didn't want to be like that, so he pressed the green.

SUCCESS!

"Hello?" The voice sounded weird, and really quiet. Adrien held it up to his ear after a moment, remembering how his father always did that when someone needed to talk to him. "Mom?" He asked.

"Honey, you set your phone up!" He shuffled around, letting his feet hang off the side of the bed. Maybe if he… there, now he could hear her better. "-proud of you! I thought I was going to have to help you?"

"Nope!" He called back, grinning ear to ear. "I did it all by myself!"

His stomach did something funny when she didn't answer right away. "...mom?"

A weird noise came from inside of his phone (he'd have to ask her how phones worked later) and then she replied. "I'm here, honey."

"You sound different." He mumbled.

She cleared her throat, or at least that's what he thought it sounded like. "It's just the phone distortion."

Adrien wasn't dumb. He thought he knew what distortion meant, and her voice had changed more than just from being in the phone. But he didn't think he should say that. He wasn't sure why.

After a moment, his mother continued. "Your father needs me in his office at the warehouse for a little longer, alright?" Another weird noise. "We're working on your outfits for the show next week!"

"Didn't you already finish those?" As soon as Adrien had said that, he clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide. That was another question he shouldn't have asked. It was too late, he supposed. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. We just need to make some alterations." Why did it feel like he'd just been standing on the railing of their grand staircase, and he'd wobbled for a moment, but now he was safely on the ground? He wasn't doing anything scary.

"Okay, maman." He managed. "I'll wait for you."

"I wouldn't do that, honey. It might be a while. I'll tell Nathalie to come up and tuck you in before bed, alright?" Adrien decided right then and there he didn't like phones much. He couldn't see his mom, and the stupid– what was it? Disorton? made it hard to tell how long she meant by a while. And he couldn't just ask. Father said that was rude.

"Okay." He said. It was the only thing left to say. "I love you, maman. Tell pere I love him too, sil te plait?"

"Of course." There was just a hint of warmth still detectable through the phone, and he clung to it. "I love you more, chaton!"

He smiled, looking down at his socks. He wanted to say "I'm wearing the socks you got me!" but instead what came out was "Okay."

She hung up after that, and Adrien pulled the covers up to his chest, shivering. Why did his room suddenly feel so cold? The sky outside was gray and heavy, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He hoped it wouldn't storm while he was alone. Of course, Gorilla and Nathalie were here somewhere, but he didn't want to ask them for help if he was scared. They were big and adult-y, and nowhere near as nice as his mom. They just didn't feel the same. Plus, his mom had a story for every fort night.

He should make a fort, he decided, padding over to the couch. It's what him and his mom would do. And Chloe, if she came over.

He'd never texted Chloe back! Adrien rushed back over to the bed, reaching, reaching, until his fingertips brushed his phone and he managed to bring it to himself. There were more than ten texts, all from Chloe, and his phone buzzed like that every time she texted him again. He signed in with his password, his mom's birthday– 5/3/92 (he hadn't told her about that! It's okay, he'd do it later) and laughed at the wall of his name that greeted him.

Adrien: Chloe its ok! Im hqre!

Three little dots wiggled on the screen, and a moment later a new text bubble popped up.

Chloe: finaly. Ice cream or not?

Adrien facepalmed. He'd never asked his mom about the ice cream, either. He didn't think he should ask her. But… he did have her number memorized, and his fingers were itching to use his new phone some more…

He typed it in with careful delibiration. What would happen if he put in the wrong numbers? Maybe he could ask. Or try it with Chloe sometime.

Adrien: hey mom?

Adrien: can Gorilla tayk me to get ice cream with Chloe?

Five minutes (he counted) and a million texts from Chloe (he gave up at thirty-two counting those) later his phone buzzed and he picked it up.

Sorry, honey, his mom's number said. His shoulders slumped and he pouted. Maybe we can get some after your photoshoot next week.

Adrien told Chloe what his mom had said and sat back, watching the clouds center over the middle of the city. His phone buzzed a few more times, but suddenly it didn't seem so fun. Chloe was probably getting mad. It wasn't his fault he never left his house… right? Was he in trouble? Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember if he'd done anything bad. Not really. He'd accidentally ripped his shirt a month ago, but he didn't think his parents remembered that. Oh, well.

Maybe he could at least finish his fort.

Around midnight, a sleepless little seven-year-old boy toddled into the kitchen and made himself a cup of hot cocoa, shaking so bad he almost dropped the steaming hot mug. Then a massive clap of thunder cracked through the air and he did drop the mug, freezing as hot liquid splashed over the rim of the cup and splattered everywhere. It was only when he realized that there wasn't any on his clothes that he relaxed a little, grabbing a kitchen towel and sopping up the cocoa. He took the still mostly-full mug and the damp cloth up to his room, hiding the cloth in the bottom of his hamper and tucking the cocoa in with him underneath a mound of blankets. He texted his mom good night, and his little flashlight went off.

Thirty minutes later, Nathalie cracked the door open. She could hear him whispering to himself, raveling a little story that she couldn't quite make out the parameters of. Chloe's distorted giggle from the fort, and she smiled softly, closing the door.

—-

A/N: So I've had this planned for the past two months but I can't remember to finish it so I figure if I start posting it I'll HAVE to finish it-

(Looks at the two hundred unfinished stories on here)

Here's to hoping.

Anyways, God Bless and good luck with midterms! I'm going to study myself now!

-Grace