It was a sunny afternoon in Pep's and Monsieur Millet was beaming with delight when his door chime sounded, hinting him that another client was in dire need of his magical assistance.

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle. How can I help you today?"

She was a beautiful petite lady with a smooth midnight hair, and on her hand was a single black umbrella.

"I - I was wondering if you can repair this for me?" she said meekly as she handed him the item. "I - It won't open anymore."

Monsieur Millet adjusted his glasses as he inspected it. "This is a good quality umbrella, and pretty much easy to repair."

Her bluebell eyes lit up "Really?"

"You see here?" the old man turned the umbrella to the handle when the lady moved closer. "This is the release button which controls the bottom spring and top spring simultaneously. Now this round part here," he pointed the white cap around the shaft "Is what we call the runner. The runner is the one that supports the stretcher, or braces if you use into layman's term, to push the ribs out and make your umbrella to open. If we twist this runner a little bit then push it all the way up..."

"It opens!" she exclaimed with glee. "How did you do it, Monsieur?"

"By magic," he winked as she giggled. "Joking aside, this shop has been here since the sixties so my eyes are very much trained to see the runner problem."

"The runner? Not the latch or the spring?"

He smiled as he opened the umbrella again. "The latch is fine since it can hold the runner and its braces. But if you shake it gently...or let's see, I'm going to pass this umbrella to you."

She took it then shrieked when it suddenly shut closed. Good thing her reflex was good that she was able to avert her head before the umbrella could slam her face.

"The runner is not fitting properly to the top spring, so a simple movement on the handle can trigger your umbrella to collapse on your head," Monsieur Millet explained as he took the umbrella from her dainty hands.

The lady blinked her eyes with disbelief then murmured "So that must be the reason why it closed on my head back then."

"There are three possible reasons why people go here to fix their umbrellas - it's less expensive to have it be repaired than buying a new one, it's a great help in the environment," the old man said as he pulled out his hand tools in the drawer. "Or it has a sentimental value."

"That black umbrella was given by someone dear to me back in collège," the lady bemused as she reminisced a blond-haired boy under the rain. "I caught him with a gum stuck on my chair so I jumped to a conclusion that he was a spoiled rich bully like his friend. I didn't know that he was only trying to remove it until he told me after class. That it was his first time to be in a public school and he has no idea how to blend in a new environment."

"And you were struck by a thunder."

She nodded shyly.

"Le coup de foudre," the man sighed dreamily while fiddling the umbrella with his wrinkled hands. "Did you forgive him?"

"There's nothing to forgive there since he wasn't the one at fault but yeah, I lost all of my resentments to him that day. Only that he rendered me speechless the next day," she pouted indignantly when the old man laughed. "It wasn't funny, Monsieur! I can barely speak a sentence without jumbling the words...or speak phrases without any stutters!"

"But he still finds you cute," his flattery didn't help her deep red blush. "So, did you tell him about your feelings?"

She shook her head glumly "As someone whom he sees as just a friend, I don't want to ruin our perfect relationship."

"There's no such thing as perfect in an unrequited relationship, Mademoiselle," he bemused as he handed her the umbrella. "Check it if there are some problems."

There was a loud 'thwip' when she pushed the release button, and as she twirls the umbrella on her hands she asked: "Is it okay for you to open an umbrella inside your shop?"

"I've been opening umbrellas in this shop for more than fifty years, Mademoiselle, yet business is still good." he said as he prepared for her receipt, "Erm, may I have your name please?"

"Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"You have a beautiful name, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Here you go," he tore the invoice slip as she handed him a paper bill. "Hope you have a lovely day ahead."

"Likewise, Monsieur." Marinette bid her farewell and left the shop. She was about to leave Passage de l'Ancre Royal when a trickle of rain dropped in her head.

"You're so lucky you have Adrien's umbrella," Tikki commented as her Chosen opened the black umbrella. "Or we might arrive there wet."

"Yeah," the raven-haired girl agreed. "Or I might text Adrien that we'll be late."

"Poor guy, being ditched by his date."

"Tikki!" Marinette shrieked with a profused blush. "You know that it's just a friendly eat-out thing!"

"In a cafe with a romantic setting?"

She groaned, "C'mon Tikki, you know the truth."

"That he loves you and you love him?"

"That the love that he felt for me is not the same as the love that I've felt for him."

"I don't know, Marinette," the kwami shrugged nonchalantly. "All I know is the Nile ain't the only river in Egypt."

"Tikki!"

"Marinette?"

Marinette stopped her tracks, and when she turned around she saw Adrien taking a shelter in an awning of a flower shop.

"Adrien?" she immediately noticed his abashed face as she approached him. "What are you doing here?"

"Erm, you see Princess," Plagg popped out on his shirt pocket with a smug face. "He wants to - HMMMMPH"

"Ahahhaha, you know Plagg, he spouts nonsense sometimes. Well, most of the times," the blond chuckled nervously as he covered the black kwami's mouth much to his chagrin. "S - So what brings you here, my Lady?"

"I just dropped by to Pep's to fix your umbrella," she said as she motioned the black umbrella to his way. "There's a problem on its runner that's why it won't open properly."

"Oh."

"Why don't we go to the cafe together instead? I believe your umbrella can fit us here," she suggested.

Adrien was about to hop in when he remembered something, "Oh, wait - I have something for you."

"What is..."

Marinette gawked incredulously and lost her ability to speak when he handed her a bouquet of red roses. "Wha - How - A - This - Uh - Eh - Erm - When - Oh - Who - Ah..."

Her bluebell eyes were wandering from the fresh scented flowers to Adrien's rosy cheeks, then leaped from a giggling Tikki to a grumpy Plagg.

What is going on in here?

"I'm supposed to give these to you once we got in the cafe," the blond explained as he rubbed his nape out of embarrassment. "Not while we are out in the rain."

Confusion was all over her face when he wrapped his hand around hers that held the umbrella, and his other hand tucked her stray hair behind her ear. The pitter-patter sound of the raindrops that fell on the umbrella was muffled by the rhythm of her heartbeat that was hammering in her chest, and the way his emerald eyes bore on hers weakened her knees as if he was telling her...telling her that...

I am head over heels in love with you.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are in red, Marinette?"