Adrien

When Chloe had invited Adrien out for coffee that morning, he couldn't have jumped at the offer any quicker. The previous night had been excruciating, and that was putting it lightly. Thanks to his fathers new 'idea' that 25 year old Adrien Agreste shouldn't remain single, he'd set him up on a date with another model — Lila Rossi.

Adrien didn't have anything against the girl, after all, he'd worked alongside her many times in the past couple of years; but that didn't mean he wanted to date her. In all honesty, he couldn't think of anything worse.

Adrien wasn't a dating guy. He didn't go out looking for women, or actively get involved with them. None of them were what he wanted... Well, maybe there were a couple of women who'd caught his eye: his best friend, for one — and no, he was not on about Chloe Bourgeois.

At the age of 14, Adrien had been thrust into a whole new world of magic and chaos. A strange change in his reality complete with an entitled black fur ball who had a worrying obsession with Camembert cheese, but that wasn't all.

The first day he became Chat Noir was the day he fell in love, and he was yet to fall out of it. His Lady. His partner. His Ladybug — was everything. Even though he'd tried to date other people his heart just couldn't separate from the amazing woman who'd stolen it. His last serious girlfriend had made it abundantly clear she was not there to be second best, especially when he admitted that she'd never be first.

Then, there was only one other woman in the whole of Paris who sparked his interest; yet he was still to find out her name. He'd only had the tiniest nuggets of information to go off, and for the second time in his life, a woman he wanted to know more about was hidden away from him. What had he done to become so useless in love?

"What if she's as ugly as a troll's doll? What are you going to do then? You're an A+, you can't go lower than an A." Chloé Bourgeois sure had a way with words. She said it as it was and never sugarcoated anything just to keep him on her side. Apart from Ladybug, she was his closest allie; Chloé had always been there, covering his back when needed and taking him for coffee when he needed the cheer up.

But this woman... this feeling... he just couldn't explain.

When he'd seen the cover of Jagged Stone's album back when he was 14, it was as though his whole world had been twist-turned upside down. It spoke to him in ways he'd only read about in books and he couldn't help wondering why such artwork was making him want to search the girl out... but he did! He so, so did!

He'd made Nathalie contact Jagged's PA, Penny, within weeks of the album hitting the shops begging for a poster print of the artwork. Luckily, no one said no to the heir of Gabriel Agreste meaning the poster was with him by the end of the week. Beyond his wildest dreams, the poster arrived with something unique on it, something he held close to his heart ever since the day he'd laid his eyes on it. The signature of the artist.

He'd prayed the signature was one he could read and then use to search for the girl; however, he was sorely disappointed when the artist's handwriting was indecipherable. The intricate twists and twirls of her letters made it almost impossible to read. So here he was, eleven years later — still waiting.

Adrien rolled his eyes, focusing his attention back onto Chloé. "You know it's not all about looks. Whoever designed it has a deep soul and a story to tell. It's obvious."

"You're such a sap! Honestly, Adrikins, sometimes I wonder why we are friends." Chloé grabbed her phone out of her bag and started tapping around on it, obviously the conversation was over as she marched her way to stand by the door and away from the waiting crowd.

"MDC and AA," Nathaniel called out over the hustle and bustle of the crowds.

Adrien looked up to Nathaniel at the counter, noticing he had two cups in his hands — one in his right hand and the other in his left.

Adrien's eyes caught the cups before homing in on the initials. It seemed the cups were in the wrong hands and if the awkward side step of the woman moving towards the counter was anything to go by, she was the owner of the second cup.

Why was she walking sideways?

Amusement glistened in his eyes, as he continued to watch the awkward advancement of the girl going to get her drink. He couldn't take his eyes from her.

He wasn't sure what the reason was for the crab-like walk but it was endearing all the same. So endearing it took him a couple of seconds to move himself forward and finally head towards his own drink. Perhaps he should spring like a bunny or something?

As he drew closer, he noticed how the woman had begun to stretch out her hand — to the wrong drink. She hadn't looked up and seen the names; instead, she was going to the drink closest to her, which was his!

Quickly stretching out to either stop her or get his drink first, the moment was broken by her loud screech as she grabbed his hand instead of the cup. He tried to think of something witty to say, something to hopefully calm her down, or at least make it seem as though he wasn't trying to grope her, or grab her hand.

Turning to her, the air was stolen from his lungs. Her startled blues were the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen in his life and he suddenly found it incredibly hard to breathe again.

It was as though time froze; his heart being the only noise he could hear as it pumped blood aggressively into his ears, rebounding hard just as his heart was against his chest.

The ocean blue in front of him; a colour he wanted to have a sample of and paint every room in his apartment with, was full of wisdom and dreams; but it wasn't just the colour which had him spellbound. Set behind a pair of thick black framed glasses, her wide, sparkling eyes were lined with black eyelashes; each set sitting perfectly against her skin; including, a face which held very little makeup yet looked more beautiful than any model he'd ever worked with. Her beauty left him speechless.

The startled doe expression currently on the woman's face began to change and melt away. Her mouth widening and eyes opening in fear.

Shit!

He could tell she was panicking. Had she realised who he was? Had she recognised him?

The scramble which happened next caused him to scream out loud; a scream which was neither heroic nor manly; instead he was sure it reached a peak only dogs could hear. The drink (hers) was suddenly knocked out of Nathaniel's hand only to find a new home on his shirt; the hot, almost molten, liquid soaking through the pure white cotton and hitting his skin with a sharp, stinging sensation. That was most certainly going to leave a mark.

Double shit!

"Oh my, I'm so, so sorry!" Her voice was as angelic as her face. Unable to look away from where his skin was on fire, she pressed a wad of napkins to his chest and dabbed over the stains, tapping them over and over again in hope of relieving a little of the burning sensation. He was seconds away from peeling his shirt off his body and diving in the cafés fridge.

"It's okay," he managed to utter. What else was he meant to say? He was suing her for bodily harm? It was obvious it was a mistake. It's not like she'd gone out of her way to damage his million euro insured body.

The stinging began to ease; the harsh, lingering pain soothing into just a warmth — a warmth with a red mark, he presumed. There was no way he was coming out of this unscathed.

"No, it's not!" He could hear the emotion in her voice as she spoke. The build up of thickness in her words hinting to tears which were threatening to spill.

"It was just a mistake," he said. "No point crying over spilt coffee." He looked towards her, allowing the corners of his lips to turn up and offer her one of his famed bright smiles. But it did nothing. The despair looking back at him kicked him hard in the gut.

"Hey, seriously, I'll be okay." He softened both his voice and his eyebrows as he reached out to touch her arm, both recoiling back at the shock that zapped between them.

The woman tucked her bottom lip under her teeth and glanced down at her watch, an impatient nibble beginning – she was as cute as a chipmunk.

Moving towards the counter, Adrien grabbed his cup and held it out to her in offering. "Take mine. It's only a caramel latte, but hopefully it'll help keep you going the rest of the day."

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she responded. "I love caramel lattes."

"No excuse to not take my peace offering then."

She giggled and he didn't think he'd ever heard a noise that melodic before.

"I should be offering you something, I'm the one who made the mistake." Her lips twitched at the edges, an easiness coming to her that made her seem so young and carefree. "I'm the one that's ruined your shirt."

The welcoming smile soon disappeared and his heart sank with it. This girl needed to be smiling, because when she did, she lit him up from the inside out. Truly infectious, and utterly mesmerising.

"That's why washing machines were invented. Seriously, it's fine. I have some spare shirts in my office. I'll just change when I get to work."

For some reason that reveal had tinged her cheeks into a raspberry red; pinky with a shine and undeniably attractive. It was a colour he wanted to see again. God, this woman was more colourful than the most vibrant of rainbows.

"Take it please. It would make me feel a lot better about my ruined shirt if you did." Her lips twitched again and he couldn't help giving himself a mental slap on the back for such a good job reviving that smile.

Fingers unclenching, she stretched her empty hand towards him, their fingers meeting and the spark shooting between them, once again. The feeling only intensified as she cupped her fingers around his to take the cup. The warm feeling of security settling deep in his stomach. Who was this girl?

"Adrien," he said, watching her pull the cup into her chest and holding it like a family heirloom.

"Adrien," she repeated as though testing the word out on her tongue. "Thank you for the crush, it was mice to neet you."

Adrien watched as her face turned beetroot red and her eyes widened, impossibly, more. She swivelled quickly before marching out in the direction of the exit.

Staring at the retreating figure, his brows couldn't help frowning. She hadn't told him her name. He kept following her as she scrambled to escape, seemingly trying to get away from him and out the building before it caught on fire.

As she headed in the general direction of the door, her body connected into Chloé's, the socialite letting off a couple of expletives as the girl scrambled past, knocking the blonde off balance once more.

Chloé made her way beside him, but Adrien couldn't remove his eyes from where the girl had left. A girl who had both intrigued him and made an impact on him – and he wasn't just talking about his shirt.

"What the hell happened to you?" Chloé slapped a hand full of napkins against his chest, his eyes remaining on the doorway as he caught them in his hands.

"Oh, it was just an accident."

"CB and AA."

Adrien turned to see Nathaniel holding out two paper cups, one which had Chloé's initials on – and one with his.

"I saw what happened. This ones on the house." Nathaniel explained.

Adrien noticed the knowing look in Nathaniel's eyes as he stepped forward to grab his drink and place a rather decent tip into the jar.

"You don't look shocked by the accident," Chloé scoffed, her attention turning to Nathaniel. The guy just shrugged.

Something in the back of Adrien's mind made him question what was going on here. The look Nathaniel was giving, the quick preparation of the drinks, it was as though the barrister knew something. Maybe something about the girl?

"Believe me, that girl is a walking disaster... and I mean that in the nicest and most caring way I can." The smile gracing Nathaniel's lips was tender, and obviously he had some sort of feelings when it came to the girl.

Did he like her?

"What's her name?" Adrien asked, hoping he hadn't pushed the boundaries too far.

"I don't know if I –"

"A girl? What girl?" Chloé interrupted the conversation, her interest peeking at the words. She crossed one arm over her chest as she used her free hand to take the drink from Adrien.

"The girl who did this to me." He indicated his shirt before turning back to Nathaniel. "Please, what was her name?"

Nathaniel looked from Adrien to Chloé, before turning his attention back to Adrien. If he'd ever seen someone show remorse in the past he began to think he was very clearly mistaken. Nathaniel looked torn.

"I'm really sorry," he eventually said. "But I don't think she'd want me to give out her name. If it helps though, she comes here pretty much every afternoon. If you want to see her again, I'd recommend coming by tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

24 hours.

It wasn't that far away, yet he couldn't help but feel this was going to be the longest 24 hours of his life.

Scanning his pass at the turnstiles, Adrien headed for the elevator leading towards his floor and, ultimately, his office. Pressing the button and cowering amongst the day to day business associates of his father, Adrien wrapped his arms over his shirt, hiding the stain from his earlier encounter this morning.

"Oh, Adrien. How funny seeing you here?" A woman's voice assaulted his ears and he couldn't help but wince.

He turned his head and came face to face with the olive green eyes of the girl who made his skin crawl. A manicured hand stretched out and placed itself on his forearm, a squeeze to the muscle tightening his stomach.

"Not really," Adrien mused, "I work here, and I own a portion of the company."

Lila Rossi let out a laugh so fake, it wouldn't even pass in a cheap soap opera. Another fake-ness to add to her list, along with cheek fillers, breast implants and over puffed lips.

"Adrien, you are so funny. You had me laughing so much on our date last night." Flicking her hair back, Adrien was surprised half her extensions hadn't flown out with the forced over enthusiasm.

Yet, that wasn't anything compared to the uncomfortable feeling as Lila moved the hand from his forearm and slid it across his back — under his suit jacket. Moving swiftly away, Adrien almost knocked the other workers over in his heist to get into the elevator and away from Lila.

Squeezing through gaps, Adrien pushed himself towards the back of the overcrowded container, squeezing himself into a tiny gap where people had obviously moved to allow the son of the big, bad boss in. Lila being blocked from her own entrance into the elevator and being left on the other side of the threshold.

The doors slid shut and his body deflated from the held tension.

Freedom.

Feeling eyes all over him, Adrien quickly pulled out his phone and tapped around on a few buttons, making himself seem busy. If he looked absorbed in something hopefully he'd be left alone.

A nervous tap began in the ball of his foot. He just wanted the elevator to reach his floor so he could get off and back to some normality. Closing his eyes, he settled himself by thinking about this afternoon's events. His mind returned to the girl from the coffee shop. A twitch pulled at his lips as his eyes trailed down to his spoilt, coffee stained shirt. 23 and a half hours and she could see her again.

The colour of the lady's dress in front of him, had him spiralling into the memories of the deep ocean blue of the girl's eyes, her hair creating a different shade as the light bounced off her raven strands. She was undeniably gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. A goddess... and he didn't even know her name.

Before he could fantasise anymore about the girl with the raven hair, the elevator signalled his arrival at his floor allowing him to break out and into the safety of his office.

Excusing himself through the still crowded confines, Adrien headed out with a few muttered goodbyes. He had about an hour before he had to meet with his father and he was sure his father would want to know the ins and outs of his date last night – maybe even start planning their non-existent wedding.

His father had been pushing the idea of Adrien dating Lila hard, to the point where he wasn't allowed to model with anyone else. It was him with Lila in formal wear, informal wear, swimwear and even on the odd, very uncomfortable occasions, lingerie. He just wished he'd had a good reason to stop his father from pushing her on him.

Though Adrien would never say it to her face, he'd never deny Lila was attractive. He wasn't blind and he also wasn't mean. She was a beautiful woman, it was just a shame her inside wasn't the same as the out. Lila had always been nice to his face, for sure, but he'd heard the stories from Chloé; stories of lies the girl told through collége and lycée, lies which made Chloé well and truly hate the girl and even though sometimes Chloé could be a little dramatic, the stories he'd heard were similar to what he'd experienced.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he passed his fathers office and gave Nathalie a small wave on the way through, finally ending up outside of his own and greeting his assistant, Sabrina, before entering.

"Any messages?" Adrien asked, removing his tie and beginning to unbutton his shirt. He noticed the slight tinge of pink coating Sabrina's usually white cheeks and held off from opening his remaining buttons and removing his shirt; the last thing he wanted to do was give her a panic attack.

"N-n-no. Just your father wanting to make sure you knew your meeting was at 2pm, and the investors are in on Friday."

Adrien looked down at his watch. 45 minutes to think of a reasonable excuse to let his father know that he wouldn't be dating Lila again. He didn't think going in and saying he couldn't stand the girl would work, not with his father's 'suck it up and get over it' attitude. But he had time, and he was sure he could think of something. It couldn't be that difficult, right?

Thanking Sabrina and asking her to correspond with his father to let him know he would be there, Adrien walked her to the door and closed it delicately behind her.

45 minutes. One reason to think of. Come on, Adrien, you've got this.

Walking to the wardrobe in his office, he began to shift through the many different shirts looking for one that wasn't too 'designer'. He loved the fit of his father's shirts, he just didn't like the styles on majority. He wasn't a fussy dresser, he liked neat and plain, and around 70% of these shirts were neither neat or plain — the vibrant yellow one winking at him, a key contender for the recycling bin.

Selecting one of his basic white dress shirts, he shrugged his old off before replacing it with the clean one and forgoing the tie. Adrien began to do up his buttons as he walked towards his desk in preparation to do some sort of work before his father summoned him once more into his office.

As he stepped towards the glass table that held his computer and documents he couldn't help but wonder why the chair was facing the back wall. He was sure when he'd left to meet Chloé at lunchtime the chair was in its normal place – fitting perfectly under the desk. The only thing he could think of was maybe the cleaner had been in and cleaned the table. There was no other reason for it.

Placing a hand on the back of the chair, Adrien twirled it around and almost collapsed with shock. He definitely hadn't left this here.

As his heart sped up and his throat constricted, he caught himself on the desk, knocking the pen pot onto the floor.

"Oh no, Daddy!"