I love my picture window, and I curl up with sketchbook in my lap, unknown to the Parisians down below, I sketch them, all with colorful umbrellas in their hands.

I enjoy rainy days in Paris, but at times it makes me sluggish and tired. Stretching, I get up as my coffee pot beeps, a welcome sound.

I'm a small fashion designer, and even though my name, Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn't in lights yet, I quietly come in from behind. My love of sewing came early on, when on my fifth birthday, my grandma gave me a set of knitting needles and my first sewing book. She explained to me that the man on the cover was Gabriel Agreste, one of the most renowned fashion designers in the world. Gabriel lives here in Paris, and his son, Adrien, recently moved out according to the fashion magazines.

Warm cup of coffee in hand, I head back to the window, eager to sketch some more. One thing I love about windows is each month the picture changes, and I've created some of my best work from my window.

My phone rings and I jump, nearly spilling my coffee. "Hello?" I answer. "Your fabrics are here at the office, Marinette." "Great! I'll head out shortly."

I have all my material sent to the office, where I spend most of the week. Today though, I needed peace and quiet, and I'm grateful I have the option of working from home.

Slipping on a raincoat and grabbing my umbrella from the umbrella stand, I join the sea of umbrellas down on the sidewalk. I take a deep breath of the cool fresh air, raising my chin, and the raindrops cool my warm cheeks.

I slow down once I reach the shop fronts, where one the Gabriel stores is. I pause, looking at a magnificent ball gown, the color a rich deep blue with shimmering sparkles. I have trouble paying rent, and I couldn't afford the dress working three lifetimes. Giving the dress one last look, I continue on my way.

The office is humming with conversation and sewing machines, and I step up to the front. "I'm here to pick up the parcels, Sylvia," I tell my receptionist. "Here you go, Marinette. Are you okay? You look tired," she says. "I'm okay, I guess just tired from the last show," I answer, and yawn in spite of myself. My company held a small fashion show, and though small, its a lot harder then it looks.

"You should take some time off," she advises. I chuckle silently. Gabriel never takes time off, I think to myself. That man is a machine, and his son works twice as hard. Modeling isn't just about wearing nice outfits.

"Marinette?" "Hm?" "Your miles away," Svyila smiles at me. "Maybe I will take some time off," I tell her. I thank her and head down to the art department where Simon is dabbing paint onto canvas.

"Hey, looking good!" I tell him as I enter the glass doors, and he turns to me with a grin, shoving his glasses top his head. "I think I finally got the right colors for the underwater theme. Who know aquamarine was such a pretty color?" "You did," I remind him.

Simon sketches and paints dresses, and can take my sketches to the next level. He's a wonder with colors, and some my best creations have come from, with the color popping and matching themes.

"I thought you were taking the day off," he asks, swirling his brush in his can of water. News travels around here. "The fabric samples came in, and I thought maybe I'd play around with them this evening, though Sylvia suggested I take some time off."

"Your one of the hardest workers I know, Marinette. You deserve to have some fun." I sigh, hopping up on the counter.

"Yeah, but I have no life or friends outside work," I tell him. Simon walks over to me, taking my hands. "Then maybe its time to find some, Marinette. Your a sweet girl, and anyone would be happy to call you friend."

"Thank you," I tell him softly, then giggle. "I should have put you in the advice column!" he laughs, helping me down from the counter. "I'll stick to art, but I'll let you know if I change my mind!"

The rain is now a mist as I head back outside, and decide to pick up a pizza, go home and watch TV in my comfy sweats.

I spoke to soon as a car goes by, nearly spraying me with water. "Well, that was a mere miss," I mutter and find myself outside a Starbucks cafe. Thinking I'll have a snack, I head inside the cozy cafe, I order a pumpkin muffin and a hazelnut latte.

When my order is ready, I head to a back booth, even though the store isn't crowded at the moment, mostly humming sounds from the machines.

A Gabriel magazine sits at my booth, and I flip through it, sipping my drink and nibbling at my muffin. Just then, a buzz is heard at the front counter, and I look up.

A handsome blonde haired man is at the counter ordering, and the baristas are treating him like royalty. He wears a nice suit and tie, and I can tell he has money. He causally leans against one of the pillars as he waits, and he looks like one of those Greek statues at the Louvre.

He looks so familiar, but I can't place him from this far away, and my curiosity is piqued. Thinking I'll go get some creamer near him, I'll be able to identify my mystery man and I walk past him.

Grabbing some creamer, I try not to stare, and then I gasp. Its Adrien Agreste.

Unfortunately for Adrien, I trip with my beverage in my hand, sloshing all over Adrien. Oh, cheese and crackers, what have I done?! When I look up, I find myself staring into the face of Adrien Agreste.