The day had certainly been a whirlwind of events.

Following the tennis mishap, Félix sported a rather impressive black eye, an unintended souvenir from the match. Adrien, quick to seize the opportunity for distraction, swept Marinette away on an impromptu tour of the estate, skilfully evading any potential showdown with his cousin.

To his surprise though, Félix seemed oddly unfazed by the situation. Considering his impending engagement party the next evening and wedding just around the corner, Adrien had anticipated a bit more drama. Perhaps Félix was practising his poker face for the big day—or maybe he was just too preoccupied planning the honeymoon to hold a grudge.

Félix and Kagami had ventured out to meet up with friends, and with both temporarily out of the picture and the others occupied, Adrien found himself in a rare moment of peace.

Chloé had found her way back by the pool, seemingly content in her own world and Gammy was off getting pampered—hair and nails—preparing herself for the evening's festivities in celebration of her birthday.

As for his father and Nathalie, who could say where they had disappeared to?

So for now, Adrien and Marinette were the only two in the house—currently in the kitchen—preparing for the evening's entertainment and inspecting the wine selection. Ever since the incident at the memorial, Adrien had become meticulous about tracking who was drinking what. He mentally noted that Gammy was sticking to whisky and not touching the wine. God, he adored that woman.

He grabbed the bottles he needed and searched for the glasses. Gammy had declined having hospitality staff for the evening, informing his father that they could order the food in but would have to serve themselves. She detested the lifestyle he lived, despite being wealthier than most of them.

Delicately, Adrien placed the glasses on the counter and attempted to uncork the wine bottle—not to much success.

After watching him struggle for a couple of minutes, Marinette came and stood beside him, gently taking the bottle and the opener from his hands as if rescuing a baby from a dangerous toy. She expertly manipulated the corkscrew and effortlessly popped the cork out. Adrien felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment; he had hoped to appear worldly and capable, but he couldn't even handle a corkscrew.

"So, Kagami?" Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Kagami?" Adrien echoed, curious.

Marinette gestured with the bottle towards him. "Well, yeah, she's intense."

Adrien chuckled. "That's just Kagami. She's very protective of me."

He took the bottle from Marinette's hands and poured the wine into the glasses with gentle precision. While he might struggle with uncorking, pouring was a different story—he was quite adept at it, especially when it came to pouring generous amounts for himself on cold winter nights.

Marinette reached for the cake sitting on the side, bringing the white box over so they could inspect it before preparing it for the candles. Adrien lifted the wine glasses, feeling surprisingly domesticated as he and Marinette moved around the kitchen together, their actions flowing like a dance, weaving in and out of one another. It was remarkable how well they worked as a team.

Taking a sip, he closed his eyes to savour the taste. There was a vineyard nearby that they visited every time they were here, and sometimes he brought some of the wine back home—there was always something for the occasion. Before the impromptu tennis match, he and Marinette had ventured down there to purchase the wine for the evening. Marinette had been rather vocal, calling him insane as he freely grabbed bottles without even glancing at the prices.

After a while, she asked him a question. "Protective? Or in love?"

The red wine erupted like a mischievous fountain from Adrien's mouth, splattering not only the cake but also decorating Marinette's once-pristine white outfit with abstract red patterns.

"Oh, shoot!" Marinette exclaimed, rushing over to the wine rack and rummaging through the bottles. "Oh no, no, no! I can't meet Gabriel Agreste dressed like this!"

Adrien couldn't hold back his laughter. "Well, at least now we know which Agreste you've got a soft spot for!" he joked, grinning as Marinette shot him a playful glare amidst her wine-stained predicament.

"Adrien, focus! Where's the white wine?"

"White wine?"

"Yes, the white wine we got from the vineyard."

Scurrying around the kitchen, Adrien began to search for the wine.

Try the left cupboard.

He stopped, his eyes glazing over as he fell into a trance and stared outside. "The left cupboard," he mumbled, turning slowly and reaching up — there it was. Amazed by his sudden epiphany, he grabbed the bottle and placed it down on the counter beside Marinette.

She grabbed the bottle and, again, expertly removed the cork with a flourish that would make a sommelier proud. She then miraculously seemed to conjure a cloth from thin air and began dabbing furiously at her stained top.

"No, no, no, no!" she muttered under her breath, attacking the stains as if in Ultimate Mecha Strike with a formidable foe. Adrien could practically see the steam rising from her ears.

As Marinette dealt with her clothing, Adrien focused on salvaging Gammy's birthday cake. Grabbing some kitchen towel, he attempted to clean the wine splatters, but the buttercream frosting was proving to be a relentless opponent. With each wipe, the once-elegant cake transformed into a psychedelic canvas of mismatched colours.

Glancing back and forth between the chaos unfolding on Marinette's outfit and the increasingly disastrous cake, Adrien could feel panic rising within him. "Well, at least we're adding our own artistic touch to everything," he quipped nervously, his smile more strained than amused.

"What have you —"

Marinette froze beside him, both of them staring at the disastrous cake from the supposedly prestigious bakery. A snicker sounded beside him, and Adrien turned to see Marinette coughing and trying to stifle her laughter, her body shaking with amusement.

Unable to contain herself, Marinette removed her hand from her mouth and let out a burst of laughter. She was clearly finding the situation highly entertaining.

"That's it... Laugh at my pain! What the hell am I going to do now? I've ruined Gammy's cake," Adrien lamented dramatically, eyeing the cake with dismay.

Marinette struggled to compose herself between fits of giggles. "Well, on the bright side, you've created a masterpiece of modern art on a cake canvas," she teased, gesturing to the colourful mess before them.

Adrien sighed. "Yes, it's avant-garde, to say the least. Perhaps we can pass it off as a deliberate artistic expression of chaos?" he suggested with a wry grin, trying to lighten the mood despite the cake catastrophe.

"Perhaps if we post a picture on X, you'll get a call from the Tate." Neither could contain themselves any longer, falling into wild, carefree laughter.

"What the hell am I going to do?" he said, clutching his aching stomach.

"I don't know." Marinette giggled. "Maybe... Oh, I don't know, mop it up?"

She started laughing again, and Adrien responded by flicking her with the nearest tea towel, causing her to yelp in the cutest way.

Finally giving in, she held her hands up in surrender, though a few stray laughs continued to escape her.

A voice whispered in his ear again. Come on, Darcy, don't forget she's the daughter of a baker. Butter her up!

"Yes!" he announced, his eyes widening with hope and determination. "Yes! Marinette, please. You must know what to do. Your parents are the most famous bakers in the world."

Don't overdo it, dude!

"Pleaseeee! For me?" He batted his eyes at her with exaggerated charm, hoping to sway her.

She sighed dramatically, moving forward and grabbing his tie just as she had that first day in his father's office. Adrien's heart skipped a beat, and he felt every hair on the back of his neck stand in anticipation. It was good to know his body was working effectively—maybe a bit too effectively at the moment.

"But you need to clean this mess up," Marinette declared, scraping a finger along the tie and collecting a dollop of icing. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she proceeded to put her finger in her mouth and suck the buttercream off.

Adrien blinked, momentarily speechless at the unexpected turn of events. "I...think I've found a new cake taste-tester," he quipped with a grin, trying to regain his composure. Marinette's playful antics were certainly turning a disastrous situation into one which would be much more memorable for the right things.

Marinette let go and turned to the cake. "Knife, please."

She held a hand out, and it took Adrien a good couple of seconds to find his poise. What was going on with him? He felt hot and nauseous at the same time, his mind clouded with thoughts and ideas—none of which made any sense.

"Adrien?"

He shook his head and blinked a few times before heading to the cutlery drawer, fumbling and mistakenly choosing the wrong utensil— twice—before finally locating the desired object.

"Here," he managed to say, handing her the correct utensil with a sheepish smile.

She took the knife from him and, with delicate hands, began to cut a thin layer off the top of the cake. It was mesmerising to watch her work—so mesmerising that Adrien found himself stopping and staring. He observed her hands moving gracefully around the cake, her thumb and forefinger guiding the knife effortlessly as she studied and sliced.

Her eyes were focused, locked onto the task at hand, and her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth in sheer concentration. A couple of seconds later, she had completely removed the layer, leaving behind a slice that a surgeon would be proud of.

Adrien sighed, admiring the perfect line on the cake with genuine awe. "That was incredible.,"

Well, you know what they say about a woman with skilled —

"Have you got butter, icing sugar and food colouring?" Marinette's interruption came at the perfect time to stop his wayward thoughts.

"Uhm..." Adrien wandered around the kitchen, checking the fridge, then the cupboards. Nothing. "No." He checked one last drawer and celebrated as he pulled out a block of green icing.

"Not ideal, but it's a start," she said. "Is there any way you can go into town? If you can get the ingredients, I can remake the buttercream and pipe the flowers on. Here." She grabbed her phone and typed out a list of ingredients, explaining each of them as she went through. Not that he understood anything she was saying.

She sent it over before smiling at him, a smile which was slowly observed back into her face. "Oh, and Adrien —"

She moved towards him, her hand stretching up to wipe along his cheekbone, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in its wake. He wasn't sure what she had done, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. In the past day or so, he had noticed how her eyes shimmered, resembling sunlight on the ocean's surface. She would gaze at him with bright sky blue eyes, then blink, revealing dark, deep-blue depths filled with desire that weakened his knees.

"You might want to give your face a quick wash and change your tie," she suggested casually, her frosting-dotted finger resting against her lips.

Adrien couldn't look away this time, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip reflexively. He needed to escape before he did something foolish like grab her finger and lick it off himself. What was wrong with him?

"I'll be as quick as I can," he replied hastily, turning around and practically running for their room, hoping to cool down and regain his composure.

*****

Luckily for Adrien, the town had been relatively quiet, probably because he was rushing into shops just as the employees were about to pull down the shutters. Time was ticking—he had to get Marinette's list completed and return within thirty minutes. He prayed that no free-roaming deer would surprise him again that night.

Burdened with bags in his hands, he stumbled into the kitchen to find Marinette already hard at work with the green icing.

"You're back, great! Did you manage to get everything?" Marinette asked eagerly, taking the bags from his hands and swiftly organising the items into a mixing bowl before reattaching it to the heavy equipment.

"All accounted for," he chirped.

"Excellent. Could you grab me the icing bags, please?"

Adrien took the box from the counter and ripped it open, pulling one out and handing it to her.

She turned her head and smiled. "Nope, this one's all yours."

"Mine?" He pointed to himself like an idiot, Marinette chuckling in response.

"Yes, Adrien, yours. You messed this up, so you're going to help me fix it. Come here."

She stepped aside, beckoning Adrien to move closer to the mixer. As he approached, Marinette's hands brushed up his arms, sending a shiver down his spine. She then took hold of his cuffs, her touch surprisingly gentle as she unbuttoned his sleeves and methodically rolled them up to his elbows. He couldn't help but notice the way her fingers lingered against his skin, her eyes locked on his with an intensity that made his heart race.

"Go and wash your hands," Marinette instructed, her voice low and soft, breaking the charged silence that had settled between them.

Not wanting to disrupt the moment or argue with the master chef, Adrien made his way to the sink and obediently washed his hands. He could feel Marinette's presence behind him, her proximity adding an unspoken tension to the air.

"So, did I miss anything while I was gone?" Adrien asked, turning back to face her, hoping to dispel the electrifying atmosphere with casual conversation.

She shook her head, her gaze unwavering. "Not really. Everyone's back and getting ready." Despite her words, there was something in her eyes that hinted at a shared understanding beyond mere party preparations—but there wasn't time for that now.

He returned to her, and she promptly pushed him in front of the cake, placing a full bag of pink frosting in his hands. "I couldn't find a cake stand, so I've improvised."

Adrien examined the makeshift stand she had crafted, testing it by spinning it gently from side to side.

"Now, hold onto the bag and squeeze the bottom gently, keeping the tip close to the cake and stable. I'll spin it for you."

Following her instructions, Adrien applied what he thought was a gentle pressure on the frosting bag. However, to his surprise, a forceful stream of frosting shot out, knocking over and shattering a wine glass in the process.

She giggled. "Easy there, Tiger."

"You do it," he said, pushing the bag back to her. He felt like a walking, talking destruction zone, and he was certain that if she didn't take control soon, he might do something serious like set the villa on fire.

Marinette began to clear the mess, carefully grabbing the shards of glass and placing them in the bin. "It was your first time; come on, let's try again."

Sighing, he walked back to the bag and picked it up again. This time, his giant hands were joined by two smaller, paler ones.

"Let me help," Marinette said, her hands guiding him as they prepared for another attempt at frosting the cake.

As she spun the cake stand and guided him in coating the cake with frosting, Adrien felt a surge of tension and distraction. His mind, as it often did in her presence, began to wander.

He tried to focus on the task at hand—the smooth, steady motion of applying frosting to the cake—but her closeness and the intimacy of their shared task made it challenging to keep his thoughts in check.

Marinette's hands were gentle and precise, her touch sending unexpected shivers down his spine. He couldn't help but feel the weight of their closeness, the unspoken energy that crackled between them like static electricity.

His heart raced as he struggled to rein in his thoughts, his gaze flickering briefly to Marinette's face before returning to the cake. He knew he needed to concentrate, to stay grounded in the moment, but her presence was a magnetic force that threatened to pull him into uncharted territory.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Are you still mine?

Marinette froze, her head appearing around the side of him. "Are you humming Unchained Melody?"

Loosening his grip with one hand, he stretched to the back of his neck and rubbed. Where the hell had that come from?

"Unchained? No, no! Not at all, I was — um — I was humming..."

One Direction! Say One Direction.

"One Direction," he stuttered out, once again wondering where that thought had come from.

Marinette's eyes widened in apparent mortification, though Adrien didn't think his actions warranted such a reaction.

"Here," he said, placing the piping bag down and crossing the room to grab another bag. "I saw this and thought of you."

Marinette regarded him sceptically, a hint of amusement in her eyes. Slowly, she reached out and accepted the bag, keeping her gaze locked with his instead of peering inside.

"What is it?" she asked, her lips quirking into a playful smile.

He shifted nervously from one foot to the other, feeling the weight of anticipation. "Look."

She glanced down into the bag, her eyes widening as she pulled out a dress he had admired on a mannequin in the shop window.

"Oh, Adrien, I can't accept this," she protested gently, her fingers lightly tracing the delicate fabric.

"I ruined your outfit, so please, accept this as my apology," he insisted, his tone pleading.

Marinette examined the dress closely, studying it with a discerning eye, much like his father inspected new garments. "It's beautiful, but your words are enough."

"Please, think of it as a thank you for everything you've done for me," Adrien urged, his heart pounding with anticipation.

He noticed her eyes glistening, clear and crystal blue, with a sparkle that tempted him to go out and buy her a pony just to see how brightly they could shine. The air between them felt charged, filled with unspoken emotions and the weight of their shared experiences. Adrien held his breath, waiting for her response, hoping she would accept the gesture as more than just an apology.

"I'll go and get changed," Marinette said, stretching up on her toes to press her lips to his cheek, mere millimetres from his lips, before turning and walking away toward their room.

Adrien's hand rose involuntarily to touch the spot where her lips had just been, a strange sensation washing over him. He felt a swirl of conflicting emotions—gratitude, desire, confusion—all tangled up in a mess he couldn't quite unravel.

"What are you doing to me, Princess?" he whispered to himself, watching her retreating figure with a mixture of admiration and longing. Adrien knew he was teetering on the edge of something new and unfamiliar, and Marinette seemed to hold the key to unlocking it all.

*****

The evening at dinner was filled with lively conversation and playful banter. Félix's exaggerated storytelling about the tennis mishap, complete with dramatic gestures, had everyone (including Adrien's father) chuckling.

"And then, out of nowhere, Adrien's tennis ball came hurtling at me like a heat-seeking missile!" Félix exclaimed dramatically, earning amused glances from around the table.

Adrien couldn't help but smile at the theatrics. "I promise it was purely accidental, Félix. I'm not aiming to be a tennis ninja."

Marinette's infectious giggle echoed across the table, and Adrien's heart warmed at the sound. He stole a glance at her, admiring the way her eyes sparkled with amusement.

Félix continued his storytelling, weaving in humorous anecdotes about the upcoming engagement party and wedding. Adrien's eyebrow quirked with amusement as Félix contemplated wearing an eye patch for the occasion.

He turned his attention back to Marinette, catching her eye. There was a fleeting moment of connection, a shared understanding beneath the surface. He wondered what thoughts were running through her mind.

As the conversation flowed, he found himself drawn to Marinette's laughter and the genuine warmth of their friendship. Despite the complexities of their dynamic, he cherished these moments of camaraderie.

He couldn't deny the flutter of curiosity and admiration that stirred within him. Tonight, amidst the jokes and banter, he felt a sense of possibility—a hint of something more waiting to unfold.

She had seamlessly blended in, and even after a couple of glasses of wine, his father was warming up to her. The dress Adrien had chosen was perfect—elegant yet eye-catching. And she looked like a Princess.

"Now, it's time for presents," Félix announced cheerfully, crossing to the far side of the dining area and picking up a small envelope. "For you, Gammy. Happy birthday."

Félix placed a kiss on Gammy's cheek before Kagami swapped places with him kissing the elderly lady's other cheek. The two sat with their hands joined on the table as Gammy opened the envelope. Adrien's hand itched for another to hold, and as he looked at Marinette, he knew exactly whose he wanted to hold.

"Oh, pet, this is lovely," Gammy said, pulling out a gift voucher for a spa treatment.

"It's at the hotel. We thought it would be nice for you to get prepared for the wedding," Kagami explained.

"Thank you so much. This really is wonderful."

Gammy took hold of Félix's hand and gave it a squeeze, his cousin looking smug with his choice in gift. Chloé followed next, presenting Gammy with a week's stay in the penthouse at the Grand Paris Hotel. Next, his father handed over a gift from himself and Nathalie—a Gabriel exclusive silk scarf. Amelie stood, handing her mother a large bouquet of roses and a box of her favourite chocolates. Then, it was Marinette's turn.

Adrien couldn't help but notice the nervous bite to her lower lip as she stepped forward with a perfectly wrapped package adorned with a bow for his grandmother. It was heart warming to see Marinette, usually so composed, displaying a touch of vulnerability.

Gammy's eyes lit up with delight as she received the gift from Marinette. "Thank you, doll. This is very sweet of you," Gammy said warmly, her Irish accent adding a touch of charm to her gratitude.

Adrien felt a swell of admiration for Marinette, appreciating her thoughtful gesture and the genuine kindness behind it. As he observed her and Gammy exchange words of gratitude, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and admiration for the compassionate person Marinette was.

She smiled, moving away and sitting in the vacant chair beside him. Suddenly, he felt her hand on his thigh, her nails attempting to break through his skin. Wanting to keep his blood inside his body, he gently stretched underneath and took her hand in his. Why was she so worried?

Gammy ripped open the gift, pulling out a beautiful, yellow, knitted cardigan—his Gammy's favourite colour.

"Wow," she said, her accent thickening with the word. "I think I've found someone better at knitting than Gabe."

Gabriel reached over, taking the cardigan in his hands and examining it, while Marinette's nails dug in even deeper.

"Impressive," he announced, turning it around to look at the back. "Amazing craftsmanship and a well-fitted design. You have an eye for it, Miss Dupain-Cheng."

"Of course she does," Gammy said. "Our Adrien would only be with someone who's talented and wonderful."

"I don't think you'd classify Chelsea as either of those," Félix muttered, grabbing his wine glass and taking a hefty gulp.

Wanting to shift away from the topic of his ex-girlfriend, Adrien grabbed his gift and passed it over to Gammy. He hadn't told anyone what he'd gotten her, but he was eager to see her reaction. He had searched diligently for the perfect gift, and when he found this, he'd known it was just right.

Gammy removed the wrapping paper and bow.

"Oh, Addy!" Gammy exclaimed, allowing tears to flow freely down her cheeks. In her hand, she held a small, authentic gold pocket watch—one that his Grandpa had given her for their engagement, with their names inscribed. It had been stolen 25 years ago during a burglary in their house.

Adrien smiled, feeling a swell of emotion as he witnessed Gammy's reaction. The significance of the watch, recovered after so many years, made the moment even more special. He couldn't help but look at Marinette to see her reaction, a knowing smile playing on her lips, as if she understood the depth of meaning behind the gift.

Gammy wiped away her tears, her voice choked with emotion. "Oh, Addy, I can't believe it. How did you find it?"

Adrien's eyes sparkled with affection. "It was a stroke of luck, Gammy. I stumbled upon it in a pawn shop and knew it had to be yours."

Gammy embraced Adrien tightly, her gratitude palpable. "Thank you, my dear boy. This means the world to me."

Finding the pocket watch felt like a sign, a symbol of new beginnings and cherished connections. As he sat among family and friends, Adrien felt a sense of fulfilment, grateful for the opportunity to bring joy to his grandmother's heart with a piece of their shared history reclaimed.

His Gammy pushed herself up from her chair. Her hands framed his face, bringing it down to her level, and she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Thank you so much, you wonderful boy," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He felt a lump form in his throat as he held his grandmother close, savouring the warmth of her embrace and the gratitude in her words. She moved away, patting him on the cheeks before making her way over to Marinette.

Looking over his shoulder, Adrien watched as Gammy embraced Marinette in a hug too. A rush of warmth flooded his heart, the flutter of butterflies dancing in his stomach. In that moment, surrounded by love and appreciation, Adrien knew he had given his grandmother a priceless gift—one that rekindled cherished memories and symbolised the enduring bond between them.

One that came the day after meeting Marinette.