The harsh cold air hit her reddened cheeks one last time, as the large, metal framed, thick, wooden door clicked shut. One last shiver escaped her body as her frozen toes took flight towards the conjoined tables.

She shed her thick, black, handmade coat and placed it over the chair next to her amber-haired friend. The soft band placed atop her head moved down her raven locks, causing her midnight main to fluff out with volume. The thick, white, knitted head band that served as earmuffs matched her slightly oversized sweater that rested over her woolen black leggings surrounded with her calf fitting, light brown, buckled boots that zipped up in the back.

"Who thought it a good idea to have a separate building for the theater?" Marinate grumbled under her breath.

Alya chuckled before moving onto a new subject. "Girl you look amazing! You designed this over the break didn't you?"

"Well, if the school decides to remodel the science rooms, do you not expect me to use the full week of creating new outfits for the holidays?" She turned and bent down to place her bag to the floor beside her, unaware of the emerald gems that gazed apon her, not emerald alone though, she captured many pupils.

"How can you not?" Alya played along. "But for real Girl! Look how much your hair has grown in seven days! It's passed your shoulders! Not to mention you left it down!"

"I know, I know I need to get it cut, but I couldn't get an appointment until next week." Marinette huffed in annoyance.

"It looks good Mari!" Alya told her truthfully as her friend took her saved seat. "I bet someone else likes it too," she mumbled, glancing to the green eyes that traveled with the raven haired beauty. " He's looking at you, y'know."

Marinette whipped her head towards the accused, only to meet the side of the tan angle who she had been crushing on for a while now.

She has better control over herself now compared to her younger self, but could never find it in her to let him go. She might not claim she loves him anymore, she might have growing feelings for another-wait what? Who said anything about that? That is a lie! A definitely not true lie!- but she did have a gigantic crush on him. Okay, she loves him a little, but she would never tell anyone that. She's only seventeen, she's not supposed to know what love is right?

"Umm," Marinette replied. "He's not looking at me."

"He was too! Why that naughty little sun head, I'm gonna w-"

"Miss Cèsaire," Mrs. Cauldrick exclaimed. "I have very important news so I suggest you listen." Her eyes narrowed at the two girls, scolding them with her smug look, and happy to see there cheeks tenting red, not just because of the cold.

"Anyways," the theater teacher began again. "The holidays is an important time for our school, what with the glorious traditional plays we put on, and seeing that Christmas is six weeks away, it only seems fit that we begin the productivity as soon as possible." She circled the front of the room, her navy heels clicking as she went, making two rounds before finally stopping before her sleek, black desk. Her face took on a less than pleased look and her voice held a small bitterness to it as she spoke again. "However, instead of doing a fine Mozart or the famous Swan Lake, this year we will put on, The White Thief."

Claudrick, with her brown locks twisted tightly into a bun, grabbed thick packets from her desk and slung them around the room, not caring about the short voices that called to say they had not been giving the script.

"This story," she began again, "Is a tale of a young thief, who is forbidden from happiness everyday, but every cold white night shall torment others as a form of fun. One night he sees an artist skating and is taken by her beauty blah blah blah blah blah. Girl gets in trouble, bad criminal saves her, feelings blah blah blah." She spit out the words as if it were poison.

"The girl enters a competition with her jerk boyfriend to compete at some ice skating competition, boyfriend cheats of girl and becomes partners with girl's rival.

"There's only a week until the competition and she has no partner, thief comes to the rescue and they fall in love, blah blah blah."

Marinette looked down towards the clearly copied script, even though the front page says not to copy or you will be fined.

Why did she take this class again? Oh, yeah, she needed another credit and how do you fail theater arts? Plus she loves designing the costumes for productions she puts on, there is always that slim chance that Gabriel Agreste could come and see them, a girl can dream can't she?

"Anyways," the teacher bellowed, bringing Marinette from her thoughts. "You have thirty minutes to review the slips, and the last fifteen minutes of class I will be holding auditions for the four main characters and tomorrow's fist fifteen minutes of class will be used for the minor characters, which I informed you about only moments before." She glared at the black haired teen, noticing her look of confusion. "I suggest you start reading over it. Oh, and one more thing, you must be a decent skater and you NEED to know how to sing!" She turned on her heel, and sat in her small computer chair, leaving the class to look over the packet and talk with their peers.

"You should try out for Bridgette Marinette!" Alya exclaimed. "You love to skate! And I've heard you sing, your amazing!"

"Yeah right. Alya, you know I'm too shy. Besides, Chloe will most likely be Bridgette." She reasoned.

"What if a certain green eyed, blonde haired model was Felix?" A smug grin crossed over her features, Alya's eyes smirking at her friend.

"Then Chloe will definitely be Bridgette." Marinette shook her head and glanced back to the script.

At first, Marinette believed that the story would be as boring as the way Miss Claudrick explained it. Yes, part of the reason being she couldn't design outfits for the glorious Swan Princess. But as she read on, it was actually quite interesting. A girl, eighteen apparently, by the name of Bridgette, is an excellent ice skater, determined to win a competition. Her boyfriend, Thomas, is also an ice skater, who, instead of walking Bridgette back home at a very late hour after practice, goes to a party with Amber and Kacy, two other performers. Bridgette is then attacked. Felix, other wise known as the White Thief, a notorious criminal who robs the city of Paris during winter, sees her, and then helps her. Felix is cold and distant at school, but becomes friendly with Bridgette.

It's a tale of love. Not so bad after all.

After packing the script safely in her light pink satchel, she takes out her notebook, but not without making sure the script is visible for Tikki, knowing that she'll gush over the cute story. She unzips her pink flowered print pouch and begins sketching dress ideas for Bridgett, using the colors green, violet, pink, and red, those being the characters favorites, or so she read.

She was focused on the neckline, so engrossed that she didn't notice the tall, lean body looking down upon her.

"That's nice Mari," the boy with deep green eyes started. "You know, an off the shoulder bateau or a sweetheart illusion with a high neck would look good."

Marinette turned to the boy over her shoulder, pushing the fact that there lips were so close, so close she could feel his breath on her pale skin. "Adrien," she addressed him, "I don't need your help designing a dress." Her voice was confident and sure, before turning shy and grateful. "But thank you, those really would like nice."

He chuckled at her sudden shyness. "If you need any help, just ask me. I am the son of the great Gabriel Agreste." He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, making sure his father's label was visible on his warm clothed, dark blue hoodie, a Chat worthy grin on his face.

It was times like this that made Marinette think he was Chat Noir, over the three years she's known both of them, she could see the distinctive similarities. However, she always found a way to doubt herself, like now. There's no possible way that the two boys she has feelings for could be the same person right? Wait...No! She doesn't have feelings for her partner, she definitely thinks of him platonically, and not at all hot in his tight, sleek, black leather suit that shows his very, very defined eight pack that she wishes she could just run her hand dow-Nope no no nope! Definitely not!

"Y-Yeah," she spits out, loosing the playful tone from before. Her mouth was a little bit too dry over the disturbing image her mind had conjured.

"So, do you think you'll try out?"

"I know I won't." Her petite hand closed the small design filled book and put her worn sketch pencils back in their respected place.

"Why not?" He seemed baffled.

"I love providing the dresses, I'd much rather have my name on them than on billboards."

He nodded in understanding, a small lock of sunny perfection falling onto his forehead, making the young designer cough.

"Um yeah so, what about you?"

"I think I might, it's not everyday that perfect poster child gets to be a criminal." His smirk painted across his more "handsome with aged" face, his head tilted up to look down upon her.

She rolled her bluebells at him, playfulness evident. "Yes," she nodded her head up and down mocking him, her eyes squinted as she smirked. "Because Adrien Agreste is positively perfect in every way."

"Yep, that's right," He stated with closed eyes, nodding along with her.

"Because it definitely wasn't you who looked like a kicked puppy when Mrs. Fraser said we had to bake a cake tomorrow for home economics."

His eyes snapped open as his body froze

Marinette burst out with her high pitched laugh, her radiant smile plastered on her freckles cheeks.

He smiled genuinely at the young beauty, his pearly teeth still concealed. "Well lucky I picked the daughter of the best bakers of Paris to be my partner."

"Yeah," she returned his smile. "Lucky you." 'Lucky me.' She thought.

The bell rang out, signaling the end of the school day. Children gathered there things and headed home, Marinette, after saying her goodbyes of coarse, did the same, Nor her nor Adrien ever registering the calls of the teacher for tryouts.

She ran through the crowded courtyard, weaving and squeezing between the close bodies. She bounded up the steps, her flats clinking on the black metal, to where the theater kids were gathered.

"What's it say?" Marinette asked wheezing and out of breath.

"Yeah," a male voice said as a familiar and comforting hand was placed on her light blue, jacket covered shoulder.

"Your not going to believe it," the young journalist replied, a wicked grin on her lips.

"What, did Chloe not get the lead role?" The girl asked.

"Nope," Alya replied.

"Well," the model joined in, "Who got it?"

"Look for yourself." Alya winked as she walked away from the rushed teens, shoving her way throw the drama known as loitering children.

Adrien and Marinette pushed through their peers to the wooden door of the office, a single sheet of white paper was taped gracefully to it.

Both bodies gasped, loudly emitting the word, "WHAT?" at the same time.

There, at the top of the list, were their perfectly printed names.

Bridgette Decker: Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Felix Arson: Adrien Agreste

Kitty021: Bet you didn't see that coming ;)

Hey guys! I'm back! This is the first chapter of my Christmas fic which I will continue with until the 25th, possibly even New Years, I haven't decided yet.

Anyways, I will try my best to post a chapter every other day but no promises.

If you have any questions please ask.

Also, I'm American and am not sure if Paris calls anything like "home economics" something different. Please let me know if they do!

If you have any questions I can answer them.

Also, I will take suggestions because I'm not quite sure what to do with this fic. I have a basic plot, but as for details, well.

Don't forget to review! It's what keeps me going. ;)

Ps. It won't always be this boring!

Pps. If you have any suggestions for the name of the play, it couldn't be worse than mine so please share!

Also, Felix!