Apples and cinnamon wafted through the door as Marinette walked into the bakery, easily maneuvering around the lingering customers.
"Hi, Maman," Marinette said, greeting her with a kiss and a hug.
"Hi, sweetheart," her maman said, hugging her back. "Where's Alya? Weren't you two going to study upstairs before dinner?"
Marinette waved her hand. "No, we actually decided to study at The Nook for a little while. I figured I could drop off the pastries at the same time. Is Papa ready?"
Her maman shook her head. "I'm not sure. Last time I checked, your father was still fighting with the peeler."
"Again?" Marinette sighed, scrunching up her nose. "When are we going to get a new one?"
"You know how he feels about that peeler," her maman complained. "I swear he's becoming more like your grandfather everyday."
"Must be an old man thing," Marinette quipped, loudly.
"This old man heard that!" Her papa exclaimed from the back room.
The girls giggled and covered their mouths to quiet their laughs.
Marinette patted her maman's shoulder and strode over to the back room, casually slouching against the doorway and watching as her father fought diligently with the ancient peeler and a small red apple.
As the summer turned to fall, the annual craving for apples meant that the old peeler would begrudgingly take another trip around the sun.
She shook her head as she watched him work. Her papa's prized peeler had to be the dullest bakery kitchen item in Paris. It barely worked on a good day, but her papa insisted that it still had use.
She and her maman had been secretly plotting against that old contraption for some time. Her papa caught wind one day, and now his sole mission in life was keeping that small, useless thing around. Maybe one day she could play the old switcheroo without him noticing.
"Hey Papa, are the pastries boxed up yet for The Nook?"
Her papa wrinkled his mustache as he scowled down at his work. "Yes," he strained, swiping harshly against the apple's surface.
Marinette brought her hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh as her father groaned from his unsuccessful peeling abilities.
The burly man attempted three more times to peel the same tiny red apple before he heaved a lengthy sigh and placed the fruit and the peeler from h-e-double-sewing-needles on the counter.
"I just packed them up not too long ago." He gestured over to the back counter where two large, white boxes sat.
She beamed, gathering the boxes in her arms, with a peck on the cheek and a quick, "Thanks! See you later!" She dashed out from the back and around the front counter.
"Alright, Maman. I'll be back in a couple of hours," she said, beelining for the front door. Her backpack jostled a bit as she pressed her back against the glass door.
The crisp, chilly air hit her face. Her hair whipped around causing stray strands to cling to her lips. She sputtered as the sticky strands slid along her cheeks and left behind a wet trail.
"Gross," she thought, "Can't they make non-sticky lip gloss?"
She continued to fuss with her hair as she walked across the street toward The Nook.
Alya had texted her that she had a spot saved in the café. And thank goodness for that—she really didn't want to fight the after school crowd today.
The second floor was always an option, too, but she was sure some of her classmates would already be up there, listening to the latest Minotaurox album. And as much fun as that sounded, it just wasn't the right study atmosphere she was looking for.
At least Nino had installed some acoustic tiles on the second floor to drown out the noise. If he hadn't, she was sure Madame Boucher would have thrown another temper tantrum. And absolutely no one wanted to deal with that.
She approached The Nook's entrance, shifting the two large boxes in her arms, balancing them carefully. She was about to grab the door handle when someone swung the door wide open.
She jumped back, emitting a squeak, gripping onto the precious cargo of pastries and praying that none of them broke.
"Oh, sorry, Marinette! I didn't see you there."
She peeked over the boxes and found a blonde mop of perfectly styled hair along with Adrien's worried face. Even wind-whipped, his hair perfectly swayed with a gentle grace as if nature itself catered to his whim. It was unfair, really, how someone could be so effortlessly handsome.
She could feel her sticky hair still clinging to her face as beads of sweat pooled under her armpits. Standing there, she must have looked like a complete and utter mess.
Her eyes widened as she realized that she hadn't even gone upstairs to freshen up when she stopped by the bakery. She still had a school smell! She could hear her elementary bully's snide voice pipe up in the back of her mind, pointing out her stinky, freshly dampened armpits.
The horror! The absolute anarchy! Yep. This. This, right here, was the exact reason why Adrien would never return her feelings.
After all, who could ever fall in love with a pungent girl?
Here, outside of The Nook, Marinette Dupain-Cheng would die of embarrassment. Forever a hot mess. She would fondly be remembered. Rest in Peace, sweaty, pastry angel.
Adrien tilted his head, his eyebrows scrunched together.
"Why is he looking at me like that?" she thought to herself. Right. Words. She had to say words!
She mentally shook herself. "No! It's—I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Marinette adjusted her grip on the boxes to lower them, getting a better view of him. "Alya and I were going to study for a while together in the café if you wanted to join us."
Adrien's face relaxed into an easy, wistful smile. "I wish I could, but my Chinese tutor is expecting me soon."
"Oh," Marinette said, her heart sinking. Her eyes dropped to the pavement below. Their schedules just never seemed to match up anymore. Not that she ever had that much time with him before. But lately, she would have liked to talk with him for more than just five minutes every other day. She met his eyes again and mustered up a smile, trying to hide her disappointment.
"Actually, I was thinking of heading over to your parents' bakery for a quick bite," he said, his thumb pointing across the street.
She tapped the top box with her chin. "Well, here, take a cookie or something. Papa packed more than enough. I'm sure Fu wouldn't mind."
Adrien's eyes lit up, hands already moving up toward the lid. "Are you sure?"
"Ab-so-lute-ly!" Marinette enunciated with a wink at the end. She grimaced, looking up at the cloudy sky. "Could I be any dorkier?" she muttered to herself.
"What was that?" he asked, hands stopping before reaching the box.
"Nothing! Nothing at all," she stammered out, "Just, uh, thinking about school and homework and—"
His hand brushed over hers lightly as he trailed up along the box to lift the lid.
"And uh, the, uh…" Words escaped her as warmth shot straight to her chest, throwing her off course into the dangerous territory of prickling, thorny unreciprocated feelings. She exhaled shakily, begging her body to simmer down.
"It's just Adrien! Just Adrien. Just Adrien," she mentally scolded herself. "Remember! I'm a new person. A new Marinette! A Marinette who doesn't get easily flustered by Adrien Agreste anymore! Yeah, take that unrequited feelings! You gross, terrible, icky things, you. I'm a whole new woman! A brand new—"
"Marinette?" Adrien asked, breaking her inner monologue.
She blinked a couple times, shaking her head. "Huh? What—"
"I was saying thank you." His crumb-filled lips turned upward into a smile. He leaned down, his mouth coming closer and closer as he whispered, "I hope you don't mind that I took three. Your dad's apple palmiers are my guilty pleasure."
Marinette giggled, still staring at his crumbly lips, sure that her lip gloss stained cheeks were cherry red by now. "Well, I won't say anything if you won't."
Visible relief washed over his face as he placed a hand on his chest. "Thank you, I can't let anyone else know I'm a glutton." He stepped back, straightening to his full height. "Could you imagine the headlines? Adrien Agreste: Gabriel's Supermodel and Golden Boy gains a kilogram because he's a shameless pastry eater."
She chuckled. "There are sure to be riots. It's a very serious issue. Groundbreaking news, actually."
"Paris couldn't handle this tragedy. I should be careful."
"Your secret will stay safe with me."
"Thanks, Marinette. I can always count on you." The sincerity in his eyes sent her heart into a tizzy, fluttering erratically within her chest.
His silver sedan pulled up and parked on the side of the road. Adrien's bodyguard stepped out to open the back door.
"Make sure to tell your parents thank you for me," Adrien said as he bit into another palmier and smiled, showing off his teeth now stained brown by the apple treat. He walked over to his car, looked back and waved. "I'll see you later!"
"See you soon, Adrien!" She tilted her head, sighing dreamily and watching as he climbed into the car.