Archive of Our Own

Adrien jumped at the sound of the front door opening, slamming his head roughly into the underside of the counter he’d been crouched under.

He cried out, clutching at his scalp and groaning when he located the bump forming in the shape of the counter’s edge.

Still rubbing the tender spot, he stood to smile brightly at the customer staring at him. Her eyes were narrowed and carefully groomed eyebrows raised.

He dropped his hand to rub at the back of his neck as the woman scrutinized him. Adrien tried to smile more invitingly.

Maybe she’d just move on.

The woman huffed, blowing air delicately out of her nose. She reached up to flick the tail end of her blond ponytail over her shoulder before approaching the counter and pulling a notepad out of her tiny gold purse.

She set the notepad down and drew a matching pen out of the purse before snapping it shut and looking up expectantly.

Adrien blinked. The strain of holding his customer service smile was starting to make his jaw ache but the woman wasn’t saying anything and he wasn’t sure what to do. His eyebrows began to tilt downward at the sides as his smile drew tighter.

“Well?” The woman began to tap both her pen and her foot simultaneously. Her own eyebrows pinched together as she raised a hand to the bridge of her nose.

“Ask me if you can help before I find another florist to send the flowers I need. God, people are useless these days.”

“I’m very sorry mademoiselle, how can I help you today?” Adrien blinked a few more times, no less confused than he was before she spoke but willing to play along for the moment.

She scowled at him, mouth twisted like a rubber band and eyes flashing. He shrank back and hoped she’d at least respect the fact that the counter was between the two of them and wouldn’t try to jump it to throttle him.

“I need a series of arrangements sent to someone. I don’t care what they look like, but they should look like someone romantically interested is sending them. And I want a card with each of them.”

Adrien scribbled the orders down on a nearby pad of his own before looking up at the woman.

She’d opened her notebook and was writing something while her mouth twitched disconcertingly.

“I can do that. How many arrangements would you like?”

“How many is typical?”

“There’s not really a typical number. You have to know the person well enough to anticipate what they’re going to want.”

And you have to want to put some effort into this, really. Do you actually even like this person?

“I just want to know how many bouquets is the usual number to get someone to like you.”

He grimaced. Come on, it’s not like I’m experienced in how to woo someone. I just send the flowers.

“Honestly, it depends. How well do you know the person? Do you have some history or are you just now starting to show interest in them?”

The woman made a short scoffing noise and Adrien raised his eyebrows. One side of his mouth tilted up and he resisted the urge to throw his hands in the air.

“Look, I’m not interested. The girl is infuriating. She’s not better than I am, and it’s stupid that someone would be interested in her. But she probably thinks they would be, so I can use that.”

“I’m confused.”

“God, how much detail do I have to give you! You don’t have to get it, all I need is for you to provide a distraction. I want those cards to come from a secret admirer. She’ll fall for the pretty flowers and fancy words and I’ll be able to show everyone that I’m a thousand times better than she is once she’s not so focused. She’ll be watching the audience, trying to guess who’s sending her things and I’ll finally have a chance at all the gigs that should have been mine in the first place.”

The woman cocked her right hip out, resting her hand on it. She stared at Adrien with an intensity that made his skin prickle on the back of his neck.

He tried to smooth it before bending his head to write the words ‘secret admirer’ on the order sheet.

He glanced back up at the woman, rising back up to his full height before speaking again. “I don’t really have any experience with how many bouquets that should take then. I’m going to need you to pick a number of arrangements you would like sent to your rival.”

“Fine. Ten. And I’ll come back if it’s not enough.”

“Great, thank you. Name for the order?”

“I told you, I want it to be anonymous,” she growled.

“Mademoiselle, you are still paying for the service. I need your name. If your rival comes in and asks for who sent the items it will be confidential, but I won’t send them without knowing it.”

“Chloé Bourgeois. And you had better keep it quiet or I swear I’ll ruin your ugly little shop.”

“Yes mademoiselle, I understand.” Adrien dropped his head to write the name on the order, hoping she didn’t see the eye roll he hadn’t managed to reign in.

“And the recipient’s name?”

Chloé snorted. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d like them delivered to our work too. I want to see her reaction when she starts getting them.”

Adrien nodded. “And the address?”

He carefully wrote down the address Chloé rattled off. He double checked all of the details written down, verifying he only needed a little bit more before he could be free of the woman for the day.

“Last thing, what would you like the cards to say? If you’re sending ten of them you could write them here in the store and I can attach them as they’re sent, or-“

“No, she knows how I speak. And my handwriting, we went to school together. You’re going to write them for me.”

“Then if you’d like to tell me what they should say, I can-“

Chloé laughed, clutching her side and throwing her head back as she did. “God, you’re dense. I said, you’re writing them. That’s what I’m paying you for, after all.”

“Mademoiselle, I don’t actually write the cards.” Adrien dropped the pen onto his counter and raised both hands to rub at his temples lightly. “I can transcribe them, but I don’t write them.”

“Fine, charge me more.”

“Excuse me?”

“Charge me more and write them. You’re a boy and you work in a flower shop. You’ve probably sent plenty of romantic little notes to people. Just copy the ones that worked and send them to Dupain-Cheng.”

Chloé dug into her purse once more and pulled a slim checkbook from inside of it. She dropped it onto the counter and tapped her pen expectantly against it.

How much do I need to charge for dealing with this woman’s crap?

Adrien stared at Chloé, meeting her eyes despite his nerves. Most of his customers were far less difficult and Chloé had managed to completely tap his customer service mask in minutes.

I bet she leaves faster if I agree. I don’t exactly have the income to say no, anyway.

“All right. I’ll do it. When do you want the first delivery?” His chest squeezed as he agreed to the distasteful sounding task, but he ignored it along with the headache Chloé was currently inflicting.

“Tomorrow, and I’ll call you when I want the next one sent.” Chloé’s chin tilted up and her lower jaw jutted out slightly.

Adrien nodded, noting prices for the most expensive bouquets he carried and marking them down on the sheet for Chloé’s order.

He then doubled the price and added delivery fees before announcing the total. He almost expected Chloe to balk, given the extravagant number he gave.

To his surprise, she flipped her checkbook open and neatly filled the slip out before tearing it out. She dropped it to the counter, avoiding Adrien’s outstretched hand.

He stifled the frustrated sigh that tried to crawl out of his throat.

Chloé spun around, heels tapping a stoic beat as she made a beeline for the front door. She didn’t spare a glance back into the shop as she all but slammed the door shut.

Adrien sighed in relief before glancing down at the check on his counter and burying his head in his arms.

What did I just get myself into?

Adrien continued to ask himself the same question throughout the rest of his day, never quite shaking it.

He attempted to distract himself with his usual evening routine of caring for his plants and shutting down the shop, but it was the last thing he thought as his head hit the pillow all the same.

Adrien woke to the sound of an alarm screaming next to his head.

He rolled onto his side, drowsily slamming a hand down on his bedside stand and missing the phone he’d placed there the night before. He shuffled his hand from side to side as he searched for the source of the screeching, cursing when he knocked it onto the floor instead.

Adrien sat up and yawned widely. He snatched the still-beeping phone from the floor next to his bed and tapped at the screen blearily to try and turn it off.

He blinked several times to clear the sleep from his eyes, nodded at the time, and threw it back onto the bedside stand.

He padded into the bathroom to shower and get himself ready for work, flipping the light switch on as he entered the room. He opened the tiny east-facing window to let more light into the room.

As he brushed his teeth, Adrien ran the fingertips of his left hand along one of the little potted succulents on the sill to feel the soft fuzz on the plant.

He continued with his routine, pausing occasionally to test the moisture levels in the soil of his plants or to pet their leaves.

After his shower, he made sure to close the window tightly, ensuring that the humidity in the room was high enough to keep the more tropical of the plants in good shape.

The thin light of early morning sun streaked in the kitchen windows, attempting to bleach the peeling wallpaper that the previous owner had picked out.

Adrien moved a large potted lemon tree into the spot of sunlight that he knew would last the longest. He rearranged the little seedlings that weren’t quite ready to be in full sunlight so the leaves of the citrus would dapple the light and then peered around the room. 

After determining the plants were all in the best possible location for the day, Adrien fished a small container of yogurt and a day old croissant out of the fridge. He tossed the croissant into the tiny toaster oven and sat at the table. Once the pastry was done, he yanked it out of the oven.

Adrien yelped slightly as the buttery crust began to burn his hands. He tossed it back and forth before sliding it onto a plate and blowing on his singed fingers. He took a large bite, sucking air into his mouth through his teeth to cool it faster.

As Adrien worked his way through breakfast, he flipped through his order book.

When he found a delivery that was scheduled for today, he jotted a note in another notebook to reference which page the details could be found on.

Flipping the page to the last order he’d taken, Adrien stopped mid-bite.

Oh right. Mademoiselle Chloé. Crap.

He groaned, wrote the note for Chloé’s order, and flipped both books shut. He no longer had much of an appetite, his stomach churning at the task ahead.

But knowing that he needed the energy, he finished breakfast as quickly as possible and gathered his supplies for the day.

Adrien slipped down the back stairwell into his shop and dropped both notebooks onto the counter before busying himself with opening all of the blinds in the greenhouse-style magasin.

He flipped his sign into the ‘on’ position and unlocked the front. Adrien pulled a small chalkboard advertising his specials out onto the front sidewalk and took a moment to glance up at the neatly blocked letters spelling out the name of his store.

When he’d first opened his shop, Adrien took a little time each morning to come out and stare up at the storefront.

It made him pleased and proud to see the shop- his shop- name on the front of a building. He’d worked so hard to pull the funds together and have something that was truly his, and he’d beamed at it every morning for at least a year.

Seeing the letters now just reminded him of how crushing failure always loomed right above him.

Not enough people wanted to frequent a fleuriste anymore, and while his numbers were currently in the black, that could slip any day now.

But for now, for this moment, it was still his.

Adrien breathed in deeply and walked back inside to begin the set of orders for the day. He wrapped a light green apron around his waist and slipped his order books inside.

He started with the easy ones, several small daisy bouquets that regulars liked to send to their sweethearts on irregular but consistent schedules.

He grinned while he picked each flower, taking his time with the bouquets and ensuring that there was at least one unusually colored flower in the bunch.

One of the individuals that received these particular bouquets from his shop had popped his head in once, excited to have finally found the small shop.

The man, Marc, had been shy and seemed almost afraid to speak up at first. But once Adrien pointed out a daisy that was primarily colored yellow with orange tips, Marc excitedly revealed how much he enjoyed the flowers.

Apparently he’d wanted to keep a token from every romantic gesture his sweetheart gave him, but getting a bouquet every other week made that difficult. So Marc had compromised, keeping only the most interesting flower from each bouquet and pressing it into a thick archival-style book.

Marc made a point of dropping by once every couple of months to discuss the flowers he’d pressed into the book. He asked for little details about each one and made careful notes in his book about the meanings and growing methods for them.

Each visit left Adrien with a too-wide smile and a warm spot in his chest. The thought that someone truly loved the flowers enough to want to keep them, to know everything about them, was wonderful.

The flowers wouldn’t last long, but how they made someone feel could.

He loved that he had a hand in making someone feel so happy, so loved.

Adrien grinned as he slipped a peachy orange Gerber into the white floral mix for Marc, knowing that this would likely be the lucky bloom that was selected for inclusion into the memento book.

He propped the finished bouquets up in water filled pots to await delivery to each recipient. Adrien nodded, smile easy and wide as he inspected the arrangements.

Deeming the work acceptable, he turned back to the counter in order to prepare the next item.

Eventually, the only order left was Chloé’s.

Adrien sighed. This is such an asshole thing to take part in. I should have just said no.

He lifted a large vase out from under the counter, stretching upward without standing in order to place it in the middle of the counter where it wouldn’t fall. He’d been saving this one for a special occasion.

It was a handblown piece, with a color gradient from a deep rose at the bottom to a frosted white near the top. It was gorgeous.

It was also the most expensive vase he had available and it had immediately sprung to mind the day before when quoting Chloé on her price.

Adrien snickered at the thought that, with her attitude, Chloé would probably have never received as nice of a bouquet as he intended to make for her rival.

Crossing his arms and stalking over to the rows of flowers, Adrien pulled a set of floral shears from his apron. He tilted his head to the side slightly as he contemplated what the grouping should be for this mystery girl. Chloé hadn’t exactly given him a lot to work with.

But it’s supposed to come from someone romantically interested. Red roses to start.

He clipped six of the long stemmed red roses with the most impressive petal displays, inhaling their fragrance deeply as he did. He rubbed a petal with one thumb, muttering a small apology to each flower for sending them on the orders of someone who felt nothing but spite for the recipient.

Adrien pocketed the shears and removed a small pocket knife to trim the thorns from each stem before depositing them in one of the plastic buckets of plant feed solution.

He selected several white bearded irises, running a thumb along the delicately ridged petals as he set them with the roses. Adrien tapped the butt end of his shears to his chin while he contemplated the next flower choice.

Let’s see, that’s ‘romantic interest’ and ‘purity’ so far. How about ‘admiration’?

Adrien plucked several fluttery bunches of red heather, arranging them close to the irises as he tried to preemptively gauge how the arrangement would look. Satisfied, he turned back to the rows of greenery.

He shrugged as he chose pink roses next, knowing that they were typically for platonic interest. Paired with red roses, however, it shouldn’t detract from the message he was sending.

Next, he chose several sprigs of lemon balm, both for the bright, lemony scent that would blend with the musk of the roses and as a gesture of sympathy for the poor girl that Chloé clearly had it out for.

Several ferns joined it for a similar reason.

Adrien took a step back, tilting his head again and eyeing the choices so far. There was probably enough green, certainly some reds, a little pink and white to draw the eye. It still seemed unfinished though, so he returned to peruse the aisles for something to finish the piece.

He briefly considered wild tansy, a declaration of war, as a warning to the girl. But he couldn’t justify the coloring with the rest of the bouquet, as the vibrant yellow didn’t suit the scheme he’d started with.

Ah, but pink rhododendron for ‘danger’ will. Perfect.

Adrien clipped a single stem of the flowers, settling it in at the very edge of the rose grouping and smiling widely at the preliminary bouquet. He pulled the black plastic container from the wall hanger and set it down next to the vase before filling the vase with more plant feed.

He delicately placed each flower into the vase, moving them as he slipped each one in place and had to rethink their locations.

He walked back to the rhododendrons and lemon balm twice more to pull additional pieces for the arrangement, but eventually the vase was filled.

Adrien spun the vase gently, watching it turn from each angle and looking for any sparseness or unusually wilted leaves.

When he was satisfied, he set the vase aside to wait for his courier to arrive and take all of the bouquets to their various locations.

He spent the next hour jotting down locations for each item and adding notes with the recipient names attached. Once again, he deliberately left the note for Chloé’s delivery until last.

Adrien sighed, realizing he’d stalled as long as he could.

How in the world do I wax poetic about someone that I’ve never met?

He tapped the end of his pen on the stationary in front of him, feeling utterly baffled.

Most of the letters he transcribed for people began with things like ‘Your eyes are an ocean and your hair is dark as night’ and ended with ‘I love you’, but none of that seemed particularly appropriate here.

He didn’t know what this Marinette was even like.

He didn’t know if she had green eyes or brown.

Didn’t know if she was sweet or unkind.

So how would one pretend to be in love with her?

Adrien groaned, berating himself for the fourth or fifth time this morning for taking this particular commission.

I’m an idiot.

A tiny mew interrupted Adrien’s bout of self-loathing and he hauled himself up on the edge of the counter to peer over it.

A grin broke out across his face. “Plagg! Good to see you, buddy!”

The affectionate little feline had been coming around almost since he opened the shop, showing up each day and leaving every evening.

Adrien had tried to make a small area for him to stay at night when he realized Plagg didn’t have a human he was going home to, but Plagg never seemed to want to stick around once the sun had set.

Despite his lack of collar, he hadn’t gotten picked up by animal control since Adrien started seeing him and he suspected that Plagg had a hideaway somewhere that he spent his nights in.

Adrien dropped back to his heels and stepped around the counter to scratch at the little black cat’s head. Plagg leaned into his fingers, stretching his neck and purring lightly.

Adrien continued to pamper him for a moment before giving Plagg one final scratch and fishing a little salmon treat out of his apron.

He held the treat out for Plagg to take while talking to him in a low tone. “Haven’t seen you around in about a week, how’ve you been?”

Plagg accepted the morsel, licking his lips with a flick of his tongue before letting out another small mew and wandering off into the shop.

“I learned my lesson, Plagg, the catnip is out of reach now!” Adrien called after the cat as he watched Plagg disappear into the greenery.

He chuckled when he heard a small, indignant meow float over from where the catnip used to be located.

“Okay, so if I don’t know anything about this girl, how about doing something like I did with the bouquet? Hidden meanings might creep her out enough she refuses the gifts and then I don’t feel like a jerk for helping with this.”

Adrien managed an opening line of ‘Thoughts of you have filled my mind,’ before feeling Plagg brush against his arm and he shifted to allow the feline to walk across the counter as he wished.

Plagg settled himself on Adrien’s free right arm and watched the words appear across the page.

‘I can think of nothing else.’ Adrien looked down at Plagg, hoping the cat might give him insight. Plagg blinked and licked his nose.

“Pff. You’re no help. I wish I could just see her face, it would make this easier.”

Plagg meowed in response. Adrien’s eyes widened and he let out a strangled little shout as he realized how perfect the line was for the letter.

He scribbled out a ‘I wish that I could see your face,’ and tapped the pen to his mouth before adding ‘To ease what I have felt.’ onto the line.

A sudden burst of inspiration hit him and Adrien rushed to write the next two lines that sprang to mind.

‘Though we do not know each other, I am drawn to who you are.’

He paused. It was almost... not romantic enough? It was definitely secret admirer stuff, and clearly not someone the girl was familiar with. But it didn’t convey the message.

Girls like soulmate stuff, right? How do I write that? ‘And daydream about meeting you,’

He buried his face in his hands, dislodging Plagg. The cat ran off, clearly upset with his actions. Adrien lowered his face to the counter, lightly smacking his forehead into the counter repeatedly while trying to come up with just one more line to finish this stupid thing.

Plagg ran across the counter again, and Adrien quickly moved one of the leftover vases still sitting on the counter so it didn’t end up destroyed.

Unfortunately he missed the jar of confetti sitting nearby and Plagg sent a flurry of gold stars over the entire counter top.

Adrien threw his head back and growled at the ceiling before reaching for the little broom and dustpan, but froze as he got back to the confetti.

Stars! It’s perfect!

He shoved the confetti aside to write the last line of his impromptu poem down. ‘Like fate written in our stars.’

He stood back and grinned at the page, proud of how good it sounded for having little actual emotion behind it.

He slid the card into an envelope, wrote ‘Marinette Dupain-Cheng’ on it with the address, and attached the little card to the appropriate bouquet.

He proceeded to sweep the confetti off the counter, trying to avoid confronting how his pride in his work was quickly overtaken by guilt over trying to distract this poor, unsuspecting woman from her job just so Mademoiselle Chloe could shine a little more.

“Hey boss!”

The front door’s bell jingled merrily as Adrien’s courier opened it. Adrien popped his head around the bushy dwarf lemon tree he’d been pruning and flashed his friend a bright smile.

The tall, dark skinned man who wandered through the door slipped his hat off his head in order to run a hand through his hair. He usually kept it short, but it had gotten long lately so he took to wearing the hat in order to avoid needing a haircut too soon.

“Hey Nino! How have the deliveries been today?” He dropped the pruning shears into his apron and walked back over to the counter so he could pull the list of deliveries for Nino to take with him.

“Eh, same as always. Yours are always my favorite deliveries to do though, nobody’s ever been sad about getting flowers from me yet.”

Adrien snorted, quickly locating the sheet and handing it over. He gathered the various bouquets and arrangements while Nino looked over the delivery sheet, planning his route.

Adrien looked up when Nino let out a low whistle.

“Dude, you have a client sending flowers to the modeling school? Who’s dating the model?”

Adrien’s nose scrunched up as he tried to remember who could be getting a delivery at a school location. “Which recipient is that? I don’t remember anyone mentioning a model.”

“This one, Marinette. You don’t have it written down, but I know that address. It’s that big modeling school that opened up next to the fashion school. Pretty new, but really exclusive. I’ve had a ton of deliveries out there lately since both schools are gearing up for some kind of show soon.”

Adrien leaned over the counter, peering at the address on the sheet suspiciously. He made a little noise in the back of his throat.

Nino pulled the page back toward himself.

“So? Who’s sending fancy flowers out that direction?”

He made another noise. “Can’t tell you. Secret admirer situation, I promised the client confidentiality.”

Nino nodded. “Makes sense. Probably testing the waters before they commit. Model and all that. Wanna help me load up? I know how you get worried when it’s the more expensive vases.”

“You know me so well.” Adrien immediately took the large vase addressed to Marinette and grinned back at Nino. He waited until Nino had collected one of the less expensive bouquets, following him to the truck parked outside.

They worked carefully, settling all of the arrangements in strategic locations both so that Nino could retrieve them easily and that none would fall over during transport.

Once they were both satisfied with the work, Nino turned to Adrien to bump fists with a grin.

“I’ll be back with the delivery receipts tomorrow. Will you have any others since it’s not the usual day?” Nino closed the back of the van as he spoke, turning back when he was satisfied the door had shut properly.

“I think so, that secret admirer paid for ten deliveries and no set schedule, so I think I’ll get it over with as soon as possible. Will you tell me what she thinks of it? It was kind of an odd request so I don’t know how Ms. Dupain-Cheng will react to it.”

Nino shrugged lightly. “Sure, no problem. She’ll probably be flattered, honestly. I’d bet people in her field are pretty used to it.”

Adrien nodded, brows pinched as he did. He worried the inside of his cheek while watching Nino drive away.

He placed one hand to his stomach in an attempt to settle the low, churning discomfort that started to gnaw at his stomach.

“God, I hope she refuses that thing.”

The noise he made when Nino announced she had excitedly accepted the gift, even asking which shop it had come from, was decidedly inhuman.

He decided not to send another gift the next day, opting to take a little longer with it in order to figure out how he wanted to continue the charade.

Every time Adrien thought about the situation, it made his head hurt just behind the eyes. He took to massaging his temples every couple of minutes, but nothing seemed to make it stop.

It probably didn’t help that he’d started hunching his shoulders over in a physical sign of his mental stress.

He sat at his kitchen table for far longer than on a normal morning, wondering if he could just not open shop today.

But he really did need to earn enough money to keep the thing afloat. His mother had left him a tidy sum to do what he wanted for a career but it wouldn’t do to have it go to waste by trying to avoid the stress of owning his own business.

He eventually trudged downstairs, opening the front door to an irate Plagg and rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m late, I know. Sorry Plagg.” The cat made small grumbling noises and Adrien poorly suppressed the humorless snort that snuck up on him when Plagg determined the catnip was still missing.

He laid his head on the counter with his arms on top. No boss means no one can tell me not to sleep on the job at least.

He groaned loudly, praying no one would walk in to make him do anything while he felt like such a jerk for taking Chloe’s order and somehow succeeding in distracting her poor victim.

So when the customer loudly cleared their throat next to his head, he felt it was probably understandable that he was so startled he nearly slammed the back of his head into their chin.

He couldn’t be too proud of his near miss, however, since he did manage to slip on nothing and go crashing to the ground behind the counter.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” A high, panicked voice accompanied the feminine face peeking over his counter.

Adrien groaned and threw a thumbs-up in the air while remaining flat on his back. He dropped his hand and sighed, feeling the cool tiles under him and wondering if he needed to turn the under floor heating back on before autumn really hit this year.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup. Yes. Sorry. Hold on.” Adrien rolled onto his hands and knees before climbing to his feet.

His face felt warm and he stared back at the woman in front of him as her brows knit together and she bit her bottom lip.

“Am I red?”

“Yeah, a little. Didn’t that hurt?”

“Yeah. A little. Sorry again. Obviously not the best idea to open the shop today.” Adrien began to dust himself off, sheepishly glancing up periodically.

The woman began to giggle, trying to muffle it behind her hands and failing. He stared at her when it progressed to full-out laughter, complete with gasping snorts when she tried to stop.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, you just looked so funny! I wouldn’t have laughed but you just dropped and I’m really glad you’re okay. Are you always this clumsy?” She pursed her lips together, breathing shakily and clearly trying not to keep laughing at him.

Adrien snickered a bit, finally pushing past his embarrassment enough to see the humor in the situation. “Yeah, pretty much. I basically slammed my head on the counter the other day when someone else walked in.”

The woman broke down again, cackling like mad and clutching her stomach as she laughed.

Adrien grinned back at her in response, happy to wait for her to calm down enough to speak. Adrien took a moment to appreciate the sleek black hair that was partially braided down to her mid-back and the adorable rooster shaped purse she had slung over the crook of her arm.

She wheezed for a few moments more, before pushing her bangs back out of her face. “Oh, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time, thanks for that. My name is Marinette.”

His smile dropped instantly.

“I received a bouquet and card from you yesterday.”

Shit.

“And I wanted to see if you could tell me who sent it? The poem and flowers were lovely and I wanted to say thank you.”

He didn’t think she’d actually come to talk to him. What was he supposed to say? He stared in silence for another moment while Marinette waited, a small smile in place.

She politely cleared her throat and he jumped.

“So? Do you think I could have their name?” She blinked rapidly a couple of times and Adrien tried to keep the guilt off his face.

Of course Chloe’s rival would also be someone sweet, god forbid it be someone nasty so he could feel absolved.

“Ummmm. Unfortunately no.”

She blinked again. Adrien winced and continued with the usual speech he gave in these circumstances.

“The person who sent those items asked to be left anonymous. So I can’t actually give you their name, but I can certainly tell them that you appreciated the gift.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. But please do tell them I liked the flowers, they were lovely. Very unusual. Did they pick the arrangement or is that your work?” She smiled sweetly and Adrien’s heart stuttered.

A wheezing sound left his chest as he tried to speak and he had to clear his throat roughly before he tried again.

“Those were me. They said that they didn’t know what they wanted to send exactly, so I chose the arrangement.”

“It was very well done. I particularly liked the heather, it was a very pretty addition to the roses.”

“I’m glad you liked them, it took a bit of time to really choose the full set that I wanted to use.” Adrien tried to smile back at her, but his face felt stiff and insincere.

She didn’t seem to notice, choosing instead to babble a bit about the color choices and interesting features of his bouquet.

While she spoke, Adrien watched her enthusiastically throw her hands around.

Marinette seemed to delight in making a point visually as well as verbally, pressing one hand to her heart as she mentioned a shade she noticed in the pink rose that spoke to her or throwing one arm high into the air to demonstrate how the heather had towered over the rest in a dramatic arc.

His strained smile gradually slipped into a more genuine one when her braid slipped over her shoulder onto the counter. She leaned over it to make a point that he somehow lost in between noticing she had eyes the exact shade of his mother’s favorite flower and how brightly she smiled at him.

It was endearing, despite the guilt.

And maybe he could just be glad that it had made her happy instead of being something Ms. Bourgeois shoved in her face.

Though I suppose she could always be reserving that for later.

“-the card?”

Adrien jumped, grimacing wryly back at her. “Sorry, I missed that. What did you ask?”

Marinette smiled that same bright smile from before. He wished, yet again, that he had said no to Chloé. Meeting Marinette under different circumstances would have been much more enjoyable without the guilt of deceiving her crushing his lungs.

With her interest in flowers and color, she would have been a wonderful friend to talk to about his job.

“I asked if they wrote the card that was with the bouquet.”

He shook his head. Definitely no use in what ifs.

“I wrote it, actually.”

“Oh! You...”

Adrien’s eyes widened and he scrambled to backpedal before she fully formed the thought. His hands shot up in front of his face, and he held them there.

He wasn’t quite sure if he meant the gesture as one of surrender or an indication for her to wait.

“Wait, no, that came out wrong.” He waved both hands rapidly, speaking quickly and nearly stumbling over his words. “I just meant that they thought it would be better if I did the actual writing.”

“Oh, okay.” Marinette’s mouth twisted slightly on one side, eyebrows scrunching together.

She hummed lightly and Adrien nervously glanced around for a distraction before Marinette cleared her throat delicately.

“Well then. If you can’t tell me who sent it, and it was delivered anonymously, I guess I’ll have to stalk you.”

Adrien choked on air.

Marinette made a startled noise, jumping forward to help him. Adrien raised a fist, thumping at his chest while his body fruitlessly tried to expel nothing from his lungs.

Marinette hovered, both hands floating above his arms and back, looking like she was trying to decide if she should pound on his back to help.

She dropped her hands when a wheezy gasp rattled out of Adrien’s chest and he managed to take a few lungfuls of air. He coughed again at the sting of fresh air, but managed to stop faster the second time around.

Adrien lifted his head from where he’d bent over the counter and shoved his hair back into place along his forehead.

“Are you okay?”

He responded with a sarcastic “Peachy,” only for it to sound more like a high pitched whine instead.

“I am so sorry, I was trying to be funny and clearly I did a terrible job of it, I didn’t mean stalk you, I meant your shop so I could figure out who sent those flowers to me!” Marinette wailed, hands covering her eyes.

Despite the tightness of his chest, Adrien chuckled at the abject despair in her tone.

He reached across the counter and patted her shoulder placatingly.

“Don’t worry about it Ms. Dupain-Cheng, you just took me by surprise. I’ll be fine. See?”

He stood at full height, drawing his arms to the sides of his body to gesture at himself. “Not dead. Totally okay.”

He grinned at Marinette as she peeked through the cracks in her fingers and giggled at him. She dropped her hands before looking him up and down.

Eventually she nodded and smiled back.

“Marinette.”

“Hm?”

“You can call me Marinette, you don’t need to use my surname.”

Adrien blinked, pleasantly surprised by the offer. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I mean, I did almost kill you and if I’m going to stalk you, then you should at least be allowed to call me by my name.” Marinette erupted into giggles once more, ignoring the flush that coated Adrien’s neck and ears and sending a saucy wink in his direction that really didn’t help.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name though?”

“Right! Sorry. I’m Adrien.” He stuck a hand out quickly and Marinette took it.

“Well thank you for the laugh, Adrien. And for the flowers. Any chance you can tell me when the next one is coming?”

Marinette tilted her head and widened her eyes, looking like a particularly sad puppy.

Adrien laughed and shook his head before locking eyes with her.

“Afraid not, privileged information and all that.”

She made a quiet clicking noise and shrugged her shoulders. “What a shame. I’ll have to stalk your lovely little shop every day for a bit then.”

“Honestly it’s not that interesting here, and that could be really distracting from your studies.”

Her eyes narrowed. “My studies?”

He tried not to flinch. It’s not illicit information, it was sent to her school.

“Yeah, your delivery was sent to the modeling school, I assumed you were a student there. And I hear it’s super competitive. I wouldn’t want to distract you in any way.”

She grinned widely, flapping one hand in the air dismissively. “I’ll be fine! It’s a very nice shop, very relaxing and calm. Thank you for the warning though, Adrien. It was very nice to meet you!”

Marinette waved as she slipped through the door and Adrien dropped his head to the counter once more.

Plagg leapt back up onto the counter since the shop was again empty, nudging Adrien’s arm in an attempt to garner pets.

“Well Plagg, I got my wish. I know what she looks like now. And I’m gonna feel way more guilty sending the next card out now.”

The next card was easier, or writing it was. Adrien managed to draft it quickly later that evening while sitting at his dinner table in between bites of his dinner.

His stomach churned and he found that he had to force himself to keep chewing the bites of pork that he’d shoved into his mouth.

He didn’t bother with a poem this time, opting instead to detail some of the facial features he’d noticed in Marinette earlier. It wasn’t exactly lyrical, but telling a girl that someone has noticed the finer details in their appearance seemed like a good idea.

Even if the person who sent it wasn’t honest, his words at least could be.

When he put the finishing touches on the draft, Adrien sat back in his chair and stared at the sheet.

Maybe he could refund Chloe.

He groaned, knowing that wasn’t really an option. Even if she wasn’t the kind of person to use the fact that I already agreed as blackmail material.

Adrien shoved himself into a standing position to go get ready for bed. Staring at his own face in the mirror, he realized that he was never going to get to sleep the way his mind was running at the moment.

He scrubbed a towel over his face roughly.

“Nope. Not gonna be able to sleep.”

Sighing to himself, he padded down the stairs to the shop with his draft in hand.

He pulled a slightly larger piece of stationary out from under the counter before picking up his pen and editing several words to be slightly less awkward.

He tapped the pen on the page before nodding to himself and beginning to copy the words over to the nicer paper. He blew on the ink before setting the page aside and yawning widely.

He walked back up the stairs and dropped into bed, allowing sleep to finally drag him down.

Marinette was true to her word. Every two days she would drop by, growling playfully when Adrien informed her that her secret admirer wasn’t present at the moment.

She would slip in the door late in the afternoon, calling his name cheerfully as she entered.

After three visits in a row, Plagg introduced himself, jumping onto the counter and brushing his tail against the arm she’d been leaning on to speak to Adrien.

She responded by dropping her voice into a low cooing tone before holding her palm out for Plagg to sniff.

She giggled when his fur tickled her hand, head shoved unceremoniously into it. She scratched behind his ears and he leaned further into her torso, completely ignoring Adriens’ hissed “traitor” and basking in Marinette’s attentions.

Plagg became a steady companion to their talks each time Marinette arrived, after that.

Adrien managed to keep his notes to Marinette from getting too personal for the first few deliveries, knowing that her “secret admirer” didn’t actually care to know her and probably wouldn’t have the little details she slipped him.

Things like her favorite color (pink, but not just regular pink, the best one is a sort of muted rose with lilac accents), her favorite fruit (raspberry and he’d teased her for liking it just because it was closest to her favorite color), her least favorite pastry (pain au chocolat, because everyone thinks it’s just croissant and chocolate and it’s an art not an equation, damn it).

Things like why she started modeling. Her parents’ patisserie had burned down when she was in lycée and they didn’t have enough in insurance or heart to rebuild. So she’d picked it up in order to help them make ends meet when a talent acquisition specialist had noticed her at a design competition and informed her that modeling paid much better than designing would for a long time.

Things like how her eyes sparkled when she talked about the drape of the silk gown she got to wear yesterday or the way the chiffon fluttered when they turned a fan her way to get a shot with movement.

He simply kept those details to himself, placing them into the same little space his guilt occupied.

Each new detail that he learned about Marinette showed him a more beautiful picture of the whole woman. They would warm his heart and soften his eyes, but the moment Marinette left the shop it would heighten the guilt that lay dormant while she was in the shop.

When she was present, his guilt simply pressed around the edges of his consciousness.

But when she was absent, it took the forefront of his mind until his every action was colored by it.

By her.

He thought about what he’d done almost every hour of the day and when he wasn’t consumed by it, he wondered about details he hadn’t gathered yet.

And the guilt made him appreciate her all the more.

It was cloying where she was sweet.

It was sour where she was tart.

She smoothed his anxious tendencies when she was near, and the longer she spent in the shop the less jumpy he became.

He stopped yelping when she surprised him and grinned at her attempts to be sneaky instead.

He kept a tighter rein on the details than his guilt however, knowing that the shame of his actions would inevitably slip its leash each time Marinette walked in the door, making it hard to breathe.

Knowing all those little details about Marinette never made his heart clench or turned his stomach uncomfortably.

They made his chest warm, filling a hollow he didn’t know had been there.

The day she declared them officially friends almost brought him to tears. He dropped the shears he’d just been using to clip a particularly interesting orange alstroemeria bloom to present to Marinette.

He silently held the flower out for her and the sweet smile she rewarded him with only added fuel to how fond he’d grown of her.

He’d had friends before. But none of them remembered the little things he pointed out on certain flowers.

They didn’t listen patiently when he ranted about flower meanings and how you can’t put butterfly weed in a romantic bouquet because you are asking your girlfriend to leave you.

They didn’t visit him at work like Marinette, who took time out of her day to come and see the lonely looking fleuriste simply because she wanted to say hello to him and Plagg.

After the third week, Marinette stopped asking about her secret admirer so often and he began to worry that Mademoiselle Chloé might come back to screech about his lack of success in executing her plan of attack.

But the only contact he received from Chloé was a brief note that told him to add another five orders to her original request, along with a second check.

His guilt bubbled over, boiling with full force out of the little corner he’d placed it in.

Adrien shut his eyes tightly, trying not to remember the smile Marinette wore when she pushed the door to his shop open, calling for Plagg.

He tried not to picture how betrayed she’d look if she knew why he’d been sending the gifts to her.

Adrien fished his stationary out, and scribbled the words to let Chloé know he was done, that she could do whatever she wanted to him but that he wouldn’t send fake poetry and bouquets to Marinette anymore.

He absently scratched Plagg’s head as he did, the cat beside him rubbing his head enthusiastically on his arm.

It was only when he slipped the check into the envelope that he paused.

She wouldn’t need to visit him anymore, if her secret admirer stopped sending her things. His heart ached at the thought.

She’d become his best friend.

He couldn’t lose her.

Adrien slid the letter into the drawer under the counter, and moved to prepare a bouquet made exclusively out of differently colored acacias. He hummed as he worked, smiling when he placed the last bloom in the vase and admiring the result.

He scratched out a quick note to Marinette, relating the dramatic flower to the last shoot she’d done.

The yellows of the dress were a close match to the yellow acacia he’d used as a centerpiece and he chuckled at the memory of how she’d accidentally knocked into one of his potted palms when she tried to demonstrate how they’d asked her to twirl for the photos.

He placed the finished bouquet with the others to wait for delivery and went to care for his other plants, still humming to himself.

The crash that accompanied his front door slamming open wasn’t exactly unexpected, given that it had been more than two months since he’d stopped accepting Chloé’s payments.

But Adrien wasn’t expecting Marinette to come bursting through it and throw herself into his arms.

He scrambled to drop the bag of dirt he held for repotting his seedlings and opened his arms wide to catch her.

Marinette was babbling happily, alternating between screaming in his ear and sobbing incoherently. He leaned back to look at her face, but Mari had buried her nose in his neck to nuzzle him in a move that both warmed him and caused him to freeze in place.

Adrien tightened his arms around Marinette’s waist and buried his own face into the crook of her neck to breathe the light citrus fragrance in her hair.

When she finally stopped mumbling things into his shoulder, Marinette wiggled her feet to let him know he could set her down.

Adrien chuckled as he realized she was over a foot above the ground due to their height difference, and gently lowered her down.

Marinette’s face was flushed and she pushed a bit of her hair back behind one ear and allowed her shoulders to raise up a bit toward her ears. With a sheepish grin in place, she held a letter out for Adrien to take from her.

He cocked his head slightly.

Worry that she had caught him in one of his notes was followed by his mind pointing out how happy she’d been rushing in before he realized that the letterhead was from her school.

He took the letter from her, eyebrows pinched at the onset of mild disappointment he hadn’t anticipated.

He slowly read the words on the page, seeing ‘congratulations’ and ‘we are pleased to inform’ before Marinette began to bounce on the balls of her feet and scream whisper to him.

“I got in, Adrien! It’s one of the most prestigious fashion houses in the city and I landed a three season contract to model for them through the school! Only five students were offered the opportunity and I got it!”

Her smile grew to the point where he was sure her jaw would ache later, but an answering smile crept onto his own face.

“Congratulations, Marinette!” He crowed as he wrapped his arms around her waist once more and spun her in a wide circle.

He managed to avoid spinning her feet into any of the nearby plants by chance and Marinette giggled wildly as she threw her arms around his shoulders once more.

Adrien placed her on the ground once more, grinning back at her before he sprinted off down one of the flower aisles. He muttered to himself and made a small noise in his throat when he found the red amaryllis he was searching for.

He clipped the largest bloom, running back to Marinette.

She had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth like she was trying not to laugh at him. He held the flower out to her and Marinette tilted her head slightly.

“What does this one mean?” The grin grew wider and Adrien rolled his eyes.

Wrinkling his nose, he reached out to wrap Marinette’s fingers around the stem. “I know you’re teasing me. Stop it.”

“Me? Never!”

Adrien scoffed before allowing his smile to soften. “It means pride. I’m proud of you.”

Marinette’s mouth opened in a soft gasp and she clasped the flower to her chest. “Thank you, Adrien. I couldn’t have done all of this without you.”

Adrien frowned. His head made an involuntary little movement backwards before he caught it and looked back at Marinette, profoundly confused by her statement.

“I didn’t really do anything though? I didn’t even know you were trying for this.”

“I know, but you didn’t actually have to do anything. I’ve been super stressed and anxious about all of the work related to applying for this internship for a while and it was kind of coming to a head when I got that bouquet from here. And I know I haven’t figured out who was actually sending them but spending time with you has been so lovely and you’ve been so kind and friendly with me. It’s been so peaceful to be able to come here. And even though I’ve never bought anything you never kicked me out. So I wanted to thank you for making me feel at home here.”

Adrien’s mouth stopped working.

He was pretty sure his lungs stopped too, maybe that’s why his mouth wasn’t making any sounds even though it was moving.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Marinette dropped her head, staring down at the flower in her hands.

“I don’t mean that I’m planning to stop coming, I just thought you deserved to know how much it means to me.”

“You’re welcome.” The words were choked and his chest felt tight, but Adrien counted it as a win anyway.

When she left later that afternoon, Adrien watched her leave with his chin propped up on one hand. He waved as she turned down the street.

The rest of his day was spent in a fuzzy haze, the little smile he wore never leaving his face.

He knew that writing the letters while Marinette was in the shop was a risky idea. He knew it could come back to bite him if she caught him at any point.

But she was sitting on the floor of the shop, caged in on one side by fragrant lavender bushes and vining ivies on the other playing with Plagg while the little feline batted at her necklace and he couldn’t help himself.

He’d started writing down little things he observed about her before he even really noticed that he was doing it.

The little giggle she let out when Plagg caught the chain.

The way she patiently detangled him from her shirt when his claws caught.

The way her eyes softened and her smile widened when she saw he was watching.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and dropped the notes into the counter drawer when she stood to walk over to the counter.

Marinette leaned over the counter, coming nose to nose with him.

“And what are you doing over here, Monsieur Agreste? Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

He wrinkled his nose at Marinette’s teasing tone and allowed a small grin to slip onto his face before responding.

“I don’t think the boss is gonna call me on it, honestly. And what are you doing, mademoiselle? I don’t think this looks much like modeling practice.”

She grinned and flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Just taking a break. The company here is too good to resist.”

She spun and walked back to where Plagg was now playing with one of the sprigs of lavender that hung just a little too low.

Marinette plopped down in front of him, allowing the cat to climb back into her lap for head scratches. She buried her fingers into the fur at his scruff and Plagg was purring again in short order, rolling around on her lap to give her more belly access.

Adrien puttered around the shop, staying mostly in locations where he could steal glances at the Marinette while she cooed at Plagg and spoke to him in soft tones.

He’d reached the grouping of white asters and found himself contemplating which color should go into Marinette’s next bouquet when he stopped himself.

He’d chosen asters, arbutus greens, and chrysanthemums for her this time around.

He’d barely thought about the meanings, simply noting which flowers and colors would suit her and the theme of the last three arrangements he’d sent off.

But when he ran through the meanings in his head his heart skipped erratically.

Oh. I’m trying to tell her I love her.

He swallowed heavily, turning his head to fully face the woman who had come to mean so much to him. She was lifting Plagg up to her face and making baby sounds at him while he batted at her nose, giggling when he made contact.

The breath left his lungs.

I love her. I have to tell her.

Adrien quickly clipped a single long stemmed red rose, stripping the thorns from the stem and making his way back over to Marinette.

She smiled as she saw him approaching. Marinette shooed Plagg off her lap and stood, brushing the dirt from her legs.

Adrien took a deep, unsteady breath before holding it while holding the rose out for Marinette to take. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open.

The pink gloss on her lips drew his attention briefly before he swallowed again and fixed his eyes hopefully on Marinette’s.

Marinette raised her hand to reach for the flower. The deep blue of her eyes sparkled, stealing what little breath he had left in his body and leaving him dizzy.

But she froze when a sharply furious voice broke the quiet spell they’d cast.

“What in the hell is going on here?”

Adrien’s back stiffened. His stomach dropped out of his body as he recognized Chloé’s voice arcing over from the door of his shop.

“Chloé? What are you doing here?” Marinette stepped back, dropping Adrien’s frightened gaze and focusing on Chloé marching over from the entrance.

“I should be asking that, but I have a pretty good guess. You-“ she jabbed a finger into Adrien’s collarbone and he flinched backwards in surprise. “have been playing me all this time! You’ve been stealing from me and pretending to do the job I asked you to do, haven’t you?” Chloé’s voice raised with every syllable until she was nearly screeching the last few words and Adrien took several steps backwards until he was standing just in front of Marinette.

He glanced back briefly, noting her widened eyes and hunched posture.

Adrien straightened his spine and stuck an arm out in front of Marinette, barely catching her head whipping toward him out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his chin and kept his own head forward to stare directly at Chloé’s flashing eyes. One of them twitched slightly before she leaned forward again.

The next words came out in a low hiss, but each word was regrettably clear to everyone in the room. “I paid you to distract her and you’ve done a terrible job because she won the contract that should have been mine! And she says it’s all thanks to her little ‘secret admirer’ so clearly this is entirely your fault!”

“She paid you to, to distract me? How?”

Adrien sucked a breath in quickly to respond but Chloé beat him to it.

“I paid him to send you sweet little love notes and pretty bouquets and you were supposed to be distracted enough that I could win the contract instead of you, but you snatched it out from under me!”

Chloé advanced on the two of them and Adrien found enough sense to step forward in turn, one arm out.

“Back off, Chloé. I did what you asked, it’s not my fault that Marinette is so much better than you that your dirty tricks didn’t work.”

Adrien’s lips pulled back, teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Chloé’s eyes widened to show a ridiculous amount of white before she stumbled backwards.

She sputtered nonsensically and Adrien’s snarl turned into a victorious smirk.

“You sent me those cards for her?”

The smirk dropped entirely as Marinette’s quiet words, dripping with hurt, pierced his heart.

Adrien spun, forgetting Chloé completely as he realized what he’d done. “Mari, I-“

“So she wrote all those cards then.” Marinette’s head was down, her hair curtaining him off and keeping her eyes concealed. Panic and abject fear bubbled up in his stomach, an acidic clawing that started low and began to work upward until he could taste the bile.

He rushed to defend himself, but knew the objections would fall flat.

“No, I still wrote all of the-“

“But she paid you to. So I’d fail my application.”

“Marinette-“

“Yeah, I really don’t wanna hear the excuses, Adrien.” She lifted her head and Adrien was finally able to see the tears spilling down her cheeks.

His heart jumped.

He reached forward to wipe a tear from her face and Marinette slapped his hand away.

“Don’t touch me. And keep your flower.” She shoved the red rose against Adrien’s chest, and he caught it on reflex.

“Please, just let me explain.”

Marinette held both hands up, fixing him with a glare that caused another rush of bile into his throat.

Tears continued to spill down her cheeks and Marinette snatched her purse from where she’d left it behind the counter. “Bye, Adrien. Hope it was worth it.”

She stalked to the door, pausing briefly as she opened it. Any hope Adrien had was crushed when she didn’t turn back around, but slipped out into the sunlight without another word.

He turned to Chloé, a self-satisfied smile draped across her lips. Adrien stomped to the counter and slammed the drawer open.

He pulled the letter from the place he’d left it months ago, tore into the envelope, and ripped the check from inside.

He held the item up so Chloé could clearly see it was her check, uncashed, before shredding it ruthlessly in front of her.

“Our contract is done. Get out.”

“You still failed me and I deserve compensation.”

A growl rose to Adrien’s throat and he stalked toward Chloé menacingly. She shrank back slightly, eyes darting to the sides before locking on his.

“You deserve far worse than for me to simply kick you out, Bourgeoise. But I’m a merciful man, and I’m going to tell you that as long as you leave Marinette alone and never come back, I won’t do anything to you.”

“You can’t talk to me like-“

Adrien advanced on Chloé slowly, making each step as threatening as he could manage. “I can say whatever I want to you, Bourgeois. And you aren’t going to say a word about it because you have no idea how much damage you’ve done and how angry you’ve made me. Get. Out.”

Chloé swallowed thickly and studied his face, looking for something in his eyes.

Whether she found it, he didn’t know, but she made a hasty retreat from the shop, looking back at him only once before rushing away.

He waited until she was out of eyesight before sinking to the ground with his head in his hands.

The next two weeks were the loneliest Adrien could remember feeling since his mother passed away. When she’d gone, he’d felt the loss distinctly.

Like a star had been extinguished and left his world darker.

Marinette hadn’t been his mother, of course, but she brightened his life significantly.

She showed him the things his life had been missing since his mother had gone.

He’d pulled back from his friends when his mother died, and Marinette encouraged him to go out again, resulting in him meeting Nino for a drink every couple of weeks at a pub down the street.

He’d buried himself in his business, eating only things that were easy to prepare and kept well. But the thought of one day cooking for someone else had made him want to start experimenting again.

The first attempt at chicken parmesan was a disaster and burnt beyond what any normal human would want to eat, but he choked it down and made notes for the next time.

He’d focused on flowers and flowers only as his interests, but when Marinette realized how much he was putting into calligraphing the cards he sent, she asked if he did any other kinds of writing.

Adrien realized that the more decorative aspects of the letters were of great interest to him and he’d invested in a few nicer pens to experiment with fancier brushstrokes and thicknesses.

She’d made him want to work toward being a better, more whole person.

And now she was gone.

Plagg continued to look for her each time he came by the shop, and Adrien’s mutterings that she wasn’t coming back fell on deaf ears. He would sniff the air expectantly and leave in a huff when Marinette was nowhere to be found.

Adrien wished he could do the same.

But instead he simply grit his teeth and went back to his old patterns, sending his usual orders out and staring up at his sign each morning with steadily increasing despair building over his head.

Every time he clipped a flower he’d sent to Marinette, he felt a lump form in his throat and he had to push it down before he could move on with the bouquet he was actually in the middle of creating.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling so broken before. And he hoped that when the feeling subsided, he would never have to feel it again.

Plagg started spending more time away from the shop.

Days that Marinette would normally show up to see them became even lonelier when Plagg stopped showing up as well.

Adrien poured as much time as he could into the shop in their absence.

With Nino’s help, he reached out to several wedding planners and began to discuss custom floral arrangements on a larger scale. The first few brides were so pleased that several more commissions quickly lined up for the coming months.

The finances stabilized and Adrien stopped worrying each day about whether the shop would go under.

But there was no one to celebrate the news with and so he simply accepted that it was part of the new normal.

Until Plagg finally showed back up on a Marinette-day.

With a ribbon around his neck and a little bell collar on.

“What in the...” Adrien kneeled next to him, running curious fingers through Plagg’s fur. “Did someone brush you, buddy? I thought you were just kind of a roamer.”

He gently worked his way over to Plagg’s neck, scratching the whole way.

Plagg leaned into his touch and raised his chin, offering access to the little rose pink ribbon tied to the collar. Adrien tugged at the end of the bow to release it.

Plagg wandered off toward the mint section while Adrien stared down at a little rolled note that the ribbon had held.

Rose pink.

It’s her.

With shaking hands, he unfurled the tiny letter that he was certain had to be from Marinette.

And felt his heart sink as he read the precise lettering upon it.

Please do not allow your cat to roam freely. He doesn’t have a collar (I fixed that for you, don’t reimburse me) and he’s bound to be caught eventually as a stray. He keeps coming to my home since I stopped coming by your shop. You may want to start locking him in more often. —M

“It’s her. Plagg, you ridiculous cat, you found her by wandering around?”

Adrien glanced up to look for Plagg but he’d clearly managed to work his way into the catnip that Adrien had left on a lower level when the cat stopped dropping by so often.

“Well. You’re not my cat, but if you’re going out to visit Mari there’s no reason I can’t send something back.”

With a tiny grin, he jumped up and walked methodically down each aisle to figure out which bloom would hold up best to a cat wandering through the city.

He made a small noise when he found the bluebells, and clipped a small sprig.

‘I’m sorry’ and the color of her eyes. Perfect.

He carefully penned a note back.

I’m very sorry, My Lady, but Plagg isn’t my cat. He comes and goes as he wants and I give him a bit of food every now and then. Since you’ve collared him, doesn’t that make him yours now? Hopefully the flower I’ve attached reaches you safely, I have no idea what route he’s taking to follow you home. But you may wish to research the meaning of this one. —A

He rolled the note up, found a blue ribbon and a tiny water filled jar for the bluebell, and went to find Plagg.

He was remarkably easy to attach the jar and note to, but definitely didn’t move for a few hours from the bed of catnip he’d managed to make.

His eyes were so round the color had been completely overtaken by pupil and Adrien chuckled to himself at the low rumbling sound the cat was emitting.

When Plagg finally trotted off on unsteady paws, Adrien sighed heavily and settled in for another few months of solitude.

He didn’t expect to see a smug-looking Plagg sitting on his doorstep the next morning.

He definitely didn’t expect to see a new note from Marinette.

A, he’s still your cat. You feed him, named him, and give him a home. Please take better care of him. I looked up the flower, it arrived in fine condition. No apologies necessary, please just leave me alone if you don’t mind. I have a lot to do now that my contract is in full swing and I’m quite busy. I don’t have time for personal drama. —M  

Adrien grinned the entire time he was replying, choosing several calendulas for the floral tube this time around.

M, he’s still very uncomfortable being locked up. He’s been coming here since I opened, I think he’ll be fine.

What if I felt like the apology was necessary? I’ve felt guilty over the decision to take Chloé’s check since the day I said yes. How about calendula? They’re for healing, ambition, and respect. Does that seem more appropriate for me to send?

I hope your contract is going well, I’m sure you’re the star of the show these days. —A

It was several days before he received a reply, but the way his heart thumped when he saw Plagg’s bright eyes made him lightheaded.

A, he seems to be fine staying in my home overnight, locked up. Maybe you’re not making him as happy as I thought you were? Perhaps he’s mad that you hid the catnip where he can’t reach.

Adrien stopped mid-note to glare over at Plagg, nose buried deep in the stuffing of the bed he’d crammed full of catnip just to stop the cat from destroying his plants.

The calendula is also not necessary, but I appreciate the respect and ambition since my career choice is a difficult one. My contract is fine, Chloé isn’t really able to mess with me as much anymore since she’s not in the same internship as I am. I’m far from the star, but I have some very nice contacts in the industry because of this.

I hear your shop is doing much better and that you’ve made several bridal contracts. Congratulations, I’m glad you’re finding some financial stability. —M

M, I think you’ll be surprised to find that I’ve moved the catnip to Plagg eye-level. I’m regretting the decision, but it does make attaching notes and flowers much easier.  

So no calendula, what about cattail? For peace and prosperity, as well as congratulations since I only sort of got to tell you before you left that night. I’m glad Chloe isn’t bothering you anymore. We had a few words about that before she took off and I wouldn’t be pleased to hear that she’s still trying to harm your career.

My shop is doing better, thank you. I’ve had a bit more time to focus on work instead of personal pursuits and they’ve paid off in a few ways.

He hesitated momentarily. How much of his hand should he lay on the table here?

Would she hate him for it?

His brow pinched together and Adrien had to resist the urge to chew on the end of his nice pen.

I’ll admit it’s quite a bit more lonely than I’m used to now though. —A

The next note came much more quickly, within a day of sending off the cattail and note.

Excuse me, sir, did you just pun at me with a flower? That’s ridiculous, I hope you know. You sent a cat to deliver a cattail, I am offended. Like I said that night, some of the congratulations belong to you as well.

You made me feel peaceful.

So again, cattail not necessary.

Please tell me you didn’t threaten Chloé, her father is very influential and would probably shut you down for that.

I’m sorry you’re lonely. I’ll admit I’m a lot more lonely these days too. —M

———

I’m a lot less lonely since I started getting notes from a certain lovely lady though. So thank you.

And of course I punned with a flower, what else was I supposed to do? I have a cat delivery service now, it’s required.

How about daffodil, no pun involved. The sun shines with you nearby.

Also, I didn’t threaten Chloé as far as anyone knows. —A

———

You’re welcome. It’s nice to have a pen pal. Even a nerdy one like yourself.

That’s true, how many flower shops have cat delivery men? Not many I’d wager.

No pun, but is the daffodil a reference to that last dress I wore? The yellow fluttery one that I showed you before I got the yellow flowers that looked very much like it?

Honestly, I don’t really care very much if you did threaten her, as long as her father doesn’t hear about it. —M

———

No delivery shops I know of! I’m unique now. Though I’m not sure how effective it will be, if the person getting the deliveries has to befriend Plagg before they can use it.

Plus I can only send one flower a trip, so this may not be cost effective.

I’ll have to save it for my best customers only.  

It is! You were talking about how it felt on your skin and how smooth the seams were on it. I thought you might like a reminder of it. The flowers I sent were acacia, but I’m sending a daisy this time. Simple, but I’ll never tell why I’m sending it. —A

———

You think you’re so clever, don’t you? I had to look daisies up and it actually means ‘I’ll never tell’, you absolute nerd. Or did you mean loyalty?

Because no one else I talk to remembers little details about me like that.

You didn’t remember the dress. You remembered what I said about it, didn’t you?

Why were you paying so much attention when all you were doing was helping Chloé to ruin me? —M

———

I am clever, thank you very much. Can’t rely on me to tell you all of the flower meanings every time.

And I wanted you to look up the other meanings, because they’re harder to tell you.

I remember those details because they were important to you. So they’re important to me.

And by that point I stopped taking Chloé’s money.

I told you I felt guilty from day one. And when I met you the guilt grew to the point where I couldn’t do it anymore. I should have told her off much sooner.

But I’m a coward.

Which is also why I’ll let you do your research on the forsythia I’m sending today.

—A

———

I never thought of you as a coward, Adrien. And I never thought of you as someone who would lie to me.

That’s why it hurt so much when I found out you did. I am sorry I never let you explain.

Was I supposed to find ‘anticipation’ or ‘love I’ve just met’ for the forsythia? —M

———

Can I explain now? Chloé didn’t write those notes. None of them. She seemed to think it was beneath her.

So I did it. I tried to give you enough subtle little warnings that you wouldn’t want to accept them.

But I suppose that’s cowardice again, when I could have told Chloé ‘no’, or even told you what she was doing in the letter.

Take whichever meaning you would like for the forsythia. But take ‘admiration’ for today’s heather.

—A

———

You wrote all of them? How much of that was real and how much was a blatant lie?

I eventually looked up the rhododendron, you know. I’m assuming that was the warning. ‘Danger’. I figured you just thought it was pretty.

But knowing you like I do now, I suppose it’s pretty obvious that you were saying there was danger in the romantic gestures.

Why didn’t you tell me later?

You don’t get to hide behind ‘choose your meaning’, Adrien. Give me a straight answer. I need to trust you again if we’re going to be friends.

And that means you’re going to do some things that might hurt you first. —M

———

Yes. I wrote all of the letters. I tried not to make them too personal since it was supposed to be from someone who didn’t know you. But I’m guessing things slipped a bit.

Should have known you’d be clever enough to find the warning in that first bouquet.

I don’t have a good excuse. It’s a pretty bad one, to be honest. I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you wouldn’t trust me.

That you’d stop coming here.

Didn’t do me much good.

I’m sorry you don’t trust me. And you’re right. I’ll choose ‘anticipation’ for now. Because I haven’t just met you, have I?

Today is hyacinth, for my rash behavior. —A

———

They were certainly more personal than a stranger could get. They were beautiful, to be honest. I kept all of them, even after I left.

Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it. And the hyacinth.

How was that last wedding bouquet? It was gorgeous but looked absolutely ridiculous to assemble.

—M

It became the highlight of Adrien’s morning, opening the door to find Plagg waiting for him with a note attached.

He’d made some treats out of the catmint after a week or two of being Marinette’s pen pal and gave Plagg one as payment for each delivery.

The notes got progressively less hostile as time went on, and eventually they stopped mentioning Adrien’s transgression at all.

They would talk about their daily lives, much as they did when Marinette was dropping by regularly.

He learned about how her internship was going and wrote back about the enormous birds of paradise bouquet he’d been commissioned for recently.

His chest warmed with every letter and eventually the twinges of guilt faded as time went by. They didn’t fully dissipate until one of the letters arrived with a second rolled up page behind the first.

It bore a sketch of a large purple hyacinth bloom with tiny letters spelling out ‘forgiveness’ at the bottom of the petals.

He smiled larger than he had in months throughout the whole day when he received it.

He still wished he could see her though.

The notes were wonderful. And the opportunity to pun at Marinette using flower language was hilarious. But it wasn’t the same.

He loved her quick wit and how easily he could imagine her sharp tongue through the words she carefully etched into each note.

But he wanted to see her.

To see how the humor sparkled in her eyes.

To see how her tongue poked out, just slightly, when she thought she’d fooled him.

To just be in her presence.

Because she really did make his world brighter.

So when he couldn’t take it anymore, he pulled the page he’d been working on that night from the drawer.

The one with all the tiny, beautiful things he noticed about her. He attached it to a red rose and sent Plagg off.

Only to find that he didn’t come back the next day.

He tried to reason with himself, given that the day had decided to be grey and drizzly out.

Maybe Marinette didn’t want to send Plagg out in the rain.

Maybe Plagg had decided not to go out.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just rejected him, though.

He pushed through the day, trying to smile at his customers, but so many of them asked what was wrong that eventually Adrien gave up.

He trudged to the door in order to flip his sign to closed but stopped short when he realized that someone was walking up.

He opened the door to a soaked Marinette with no umbrella and a sheepish smile on her face.

He rushed to let her inside, making tiny distressed noises while Marinette laughed at him. Adrien ran upstairs after telling her to stay put, retrieving a towel and taking the steps two at a time on the way back down.

He handed the towel over and averted his eyes while Marinette tried to dry off as much as possible.

“Why are you here?” The words slipped out before he could stop himself and Adrien clapped both hands to his mouth as Marinette laughed even harder at him.

“Sorry. I meant, why in the rain? And why don’t you have an umbrella?”

Marinette caught her breath before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t think about it. I was struggling with what to write all day and then it was raining so I didn’t want to send Plagg outside in it, and I just. I needed to know if you meant all of this?”

She held the note up, but Adrien didn’t bother to look at it.

He knew, all too well, what words were scrawled across the page.

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “I meant all of it. I just sort of started writing it down while spending time with you and I thought you deserved to know.”

She set the page on the counter, smoothing the surface before she looked back up at him. “It’s not like the other things you wrote me, you know.”

“I know.”

“It’s much more you. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved the cards I was getting. I was head over heels with the person who wrote them before I even walked in here. But this? It’s much more heartfelt. Honest.”

Adrien swallowed. Don’t chicken out now.

“You told me I needed to do some things that would hurt.”

She nodded, serene smile still in place. “I did. And I think you did what I asked when you sent this to me. As long as it means what I think it does.”

“What do you think it means?” Adrien frowned, unsure if he should allow any hope to form or if it would just end up crushed again.

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ on the word, cheerfully shooting the question down. “Can’t be a coward now. You tell me what you meant.”

His hands shook and he tried in vain to wipe them on his work apron. His throat felt incredibly dry, but he knew that this was a turning point.

He could chicken out and she’d walk away.

Or he could risk his heart. And she might stay.

She might ruin him.

But if I don’t even try...

Marinette sighed and looked away as Adrien opened his mouth to blurt the words he’d been trying to say for months. “It means I love you.”

She stared, stunned into silence. A startled gasp escaped her lips, sounding more like a strangled laugh. Her mouth began to twitch as if she wanted to smile but wasn’t sure if she should.

His heart sank.

“You don’t have to say anything, I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll stop sending the flowers-“ His speech was cut off by a chilled body crashing into him, knocking them both onto the floor.

Adrien smacked his head on the floor and Marinette landed on top of his chest, all flailing limbs.

He groaned in pain.

“Oh my god, woman, you’re supposed to be graceful!” He sputtered a laugh out and Marinette groaned pitifully into his chest, covering her reddening face.

He tried to pry her off of him, but she burrowed herself into his shirt relentlessly.

Eventually he managed to detach her so they could both sit up more comfortably, if no less embarrassed by the fall.

“I guess I shouldn’t expect you to just catch me, huh.” She grinned at him, face still red.

“Probably not. I mean, I did catch you. But I definitely can’t do it without damage to myself.”

Marinette buried her face in her hands again at the gentle barb, and only emerged when Adrien stopped laughing at her.

“I started to feel really torn, you know.”

Adrien hummed curiously, tilting his head to the side as he stretched one shoulder.

“When I started to fall for you too.”

He stilled, shoulder raised in the air.

“The notes were so lovely and sweet and then there was this wonderful heartfelt boy at the flower shop that sent them that made me feel so at home and I just felt so conflicted. I toyed with the idea that it might be you but I didn’t really think it would be.”

“Oh. You liked me?”

“Clearly not for your quick wit,” she teased lightly, poking his ribs. Adrien squirmed away, grin in place.

“But you do like me.”

“Yes, Adrien, I do like you.” She glared back at him, clearly unamused by his catlike smile. He tried to tone it down but gave up when his face wasn’t cooperating.

“But I don’t want to rush into this!”

“What rushing, we’ve been talking for months? And you sent that drawing, so you forgive me, right?” He intentionally widened his eyes and stuck his chin out, trying for the saddest eyes he could make.

“Stop that.” She smacked his shoulder before continuing. “I came here to ask you on a date. Start slow. No lies this time. What do you say?”

“It sounds wonderful. How about now?” Adrien raised to his feet, offering a hand down to Marinette.

She took it to help herself to her feet, brushing her legs off in a way that was so familiar it struck little barbs into Adrien’s heart.

“Sounds good to me. There’s a little cafe down the street.”

“I know the one. Let me lock up and we’ll head down.”

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle as they left the shop and Adrien paused after locking the door tightly. He looked up at the sign above the door.

His sign.

Something that had reminded him for so long of how everything could come crashing down at any minute.

But it hadn’t yet.

Maybe not everything would work out. Maybe his shop would close tomorrow or the building would fall.

Maybe the worst was yet to come.

He glanced over at Marinette, patiently waiting for him with a sweet smile on her face.

He smiled back, sparing one last glance back up at his sign.

For the first time in a very long time, Le Tournesol seemed like the most appropriate name he could have chosen.

Because why would he trade the moments like this? Maybe his decisions would still make everything come to an end.

But they led him here. They gave him a chance at being happy, in so many ways.

Today was sunlight in rain.

Sunflowers in a desert.

And as he slipped his hand into Marinette’s and began the walk down the street to the little cafe, he mused to himself, I wouldn’t trade this for the world.