Authors Note:
Okay, so I am pretty proud of this story, but I enjoy constructive criticism! So, I used Google to translate some words into French because I am currently learning Spanish and Hindi, and I am fulfilled with just that. Anyways, I will have the translation in the comments if you need it! Apparently it is "too easy". *cough* Thanks Tomato. *cough, cough. Eventually, I'm sure you'll be able to recognize certain words. Lastly, there are some special symbols for the letters that I am unsure how to do.

Adrien chased me around his mansion, the both of us giggling like the seven year-olds we were, the two of us blissfully unaware of the horridness that was reality.

"You'll never catch me, Officer Jones!" I had your arms outstretched like an airplane's, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Never say never, petit insecte!" I heard his laugh, though it sounded as if he were traveling away from me. As a result, I slowed to a walk, thinking he was on the other side of the house. As I was preparing myself to turn the corner, I could sense that something was wrong. Sure enough, as soon as I took the next step forward, Adrien popped out from behind the wall and tackled me. I laughed soundlessly as he tickled me, tears coming from my eyes.

"Adrien! Y/n!" He stopped at the sound of his mother's voice shouting from the kitchen. "I made surreal soup!" We both exchanged a look and a mutual understanding was made. Game. ON!

We pushed each other as we clumsily scrambled to our feet. We darted towards the kitchen, pulling each other's arm, shoving each other into the wall. He began gaining speed, and he made no effort to be modest about it.

"Eat my dust, little bug!" I smiled, just as I always did. We were both short for our age, but I was more so than he was.

I finally reached the dining hall just after he did, and I was met with his foot sticking out to trip me. I fell face-first whilst listening to the cackling of Adrien, but the laughing was soon interrupted.

"Oh, you poor fleur!" Emilie came to help me stand, her blond hair in a gentle braid that rested on her shoulder. After fixing my red hair by putting it behind my ears, she wacked her son over the head with her hand. Both our smiles evaporated. "What were you thinking! Do you want y/n to be your friend?"

"Oui, maman," he said apologetically as he looked at his feet. My heart broke to see and hear his voice so sad.

"Then you have to learn to be respectful, Adrien! You have to be polite!" Even when she yelled, Emilie sounded more concerned than angry. "What would your father say?"

"I, I thought that was what friends did, maman. I'll try to be better." The young boy continued to stare at his feet, and I could see a tear drop from behind his shaggy hair fall to his sneakers. His mother's expression softened as she kneeled down before him and gently lifted his chin up.

"Aw, look at me, petit chaton." Though I didn't have the best view, I could visualize Adrien's green eyes looking at his mother. "J t'aime."

"J t'aime, aussi." He hugged around her neck, and she hugged his back. When she pushed him away, she wiped a tear from his face as she spoke with a smile.

Do you want my surreal soup?" Adrien nodded enthusiastically, and Emilie smiled as she stood up to serve our food. "Then take a seat, les enfants." We did as she said, sitting right next to each other at the dining table.

Once we all had the delicious soup in front of us, Emilie spoke up. "I forgot to mention, Chloe will be coming over tomorrow, if you want to come back tomorrow as well, fleur." My mouth full of food, I nodded happily.

"Bien sure! If, Adrien wants me to." We both looked to the boy in question, his green eyes lit up like a christmas tree.

"Oui! Could we have cheese, maman?" We all chuckled at his comment. He was obsessed with cheese, and everyone thought it adorable when we were younger. Personally, I had a sweet tooth.

"Eat your-," the room fell silent as the sound of a door opening was heard from the other room.

"Emilie?" The woman's smile switched worrisome as she hurried to take her apron off. Gabriel, or as I knew him, Monsieur Agreste, didn't approve of his spouse cooking when he was paying his personal chefs to...chef.

"Coming!" She ran to greet her husband with a welcoming tone. "Boujior, Gabriel!" Adrien and I gagged at the sound of his parents kissing.

"Why do they do that?"

I giggled before answering his question. "You always say that, 'chaton'," I teased. He punched my arm softly, and I returned the kind gesture.

"Well, I'd like to know!" Though I didn't notice, he looked at me with admiration as I giggled some more.

"We always have this conversation, Adrien!" I took a large spoonful of surreal soup, mentally trying to figure out how it tastes. My mother was a chef, so she made this soup constantly, and I had yet to determine what flavour it tasted more like. Sweet? No.

"Y/n!"

But it isn't sour... Or is it?

"Fleur!" I snapped back to reality, my daydreaming of soup cut off by Emilie.

"Oui?" I responded. I realized I had mindlessly finished my soup, and I had to fight the smile threatening to show itself.

"Our driver is going to take you home now," Monsieur Agreste informed me.

As I look back at my past, I find the expression he wore foreign. After years of seeing him depressed, it is hard now to remember the joy that gleamed in his eyes whenever he looked at Emilie or Adrien.

He smiled towards me as I ran to him. Being that both my parentes work overtime, the Agrestes' had become like a second famille. I was safe, and welcome at their house. They treated me like their very own.

M. Agreste twirled me around before sending me out the door. I giggled and waved at Adrien, "Au revoir!"

"Salut!"

"Did you have fun?" Gabriel usually asked this question as he walked me to their car. I nodded, and he opened the door for me. "Good. Please take her home," he spoke to the driver. He smiled at me one last time. "See you tomorrow, y/n," he then closed the door and I was driven to my house.

"Gacias!" The driver tilted his head at me.

"Why the Spanish?" I smiled with my eyes closed. I enjoyed learning new languages, and I had decided to pick up Spanish that particular month. The driver was really the only one who knew of this, and would occasionally attempt to learn a few basic words. Unfortunately, I had already moved on by the time he reached that point.

"Why do we speak Francias? Or Anglaise? We are taught what to do and how to speak, and we do and say what we are taught." The man chuckled, then drove off and left me in the driveway. I turned to face my location of residence , many details about my home alerted my des sens.

Both my parentes' cars were in the driveway, which I found odd. Because it was only Saturday, my pere wasn't expected to be home until an hour later. What was even stranger, there was a small black car parked at the curb. I stood in the driveway, concerned, for just a few moments before a man walked out of my house in a casual manner. His eyes locked on me, and my mind wondered what he was doing here.

"Bonjour, qui es-tu," I asked. He sent me a warm smile as he began approaching me with his hands in his coat pockets.

"Bonjour, little one. I am a friend of your parents, and they told me you are a very intelligent young girl." He was right in front of me now, and I took note of his tanned skin and lack of facial hair.

I put my chin up high, I was proud of who I was. "I personally think I have some things I could improve, but I guess I am intellegente. Pourquoi?"

"I run an organization for gifted children just like toi meme. Your parents have already agreed, and they told me it is your decision. Que dis-tu?" I looked at the house behind the man, thinking about how proud my pere and maman were already.

"What did you say your prenom was?"

"Maitre Juan-Role. Alors? If you agree, you will receive the best training and education we can provide." I didn't even feel the need to consider it. After all, my parentes were fine with it. Who could I trust if not their opinions?

"Montrer le chemin, Maitre Juan-Role."