A/N: Hey everyone. I know these waits seem to be getting longer and longer. I just want to say how much I appreciate all of your support and patience. You folks are wonderful, and it means the world to me that so many of you are willing to wait to read this fic. Things are finally settling back down for me, so I'm hoping to be able to get back to updating a little more regularly (or at the very least, not have several months between each chapter). As always, thank you for everything. I appreciate it more than words can convey.

A few little things before we dive in!

First, I wanted to mention that I'm going to be at Anime North at the end of May again this year. If you're planning on going, feel free to look for me! I'll be wandering around in various outfits, although my big three will be Yuuri's Eros costume (Friday), Momo as part of a huge maid Samezuka group (Saturday), and Lance from Voltron (Sunday). (I'll also be Makoto from Free! and Oikawa from Haikyuu! on Friday and Saturday evening, respectively ^^) I'd love to get to meet any of you! (And lavish you with love for all of the support you give this fic uwu) If you want to see my face to track me down better, or if you want to see my progress as I make the Eros costume and Lance's jacket, feel free to check my #AN17 tag on my tumblr, which I'll be updating as we get closer ^^

Hopefully the layout of Attitude is clear enough in the text, but as a friendly reminder, I wound up making a visual floor plan of the building that you can view on my tumblr (/post/144487600269) if it would be helpful.

And last, but seriously the most exciting news of the bunch! The absolutely wonderful kai-style drew some fanart from Chapter 8. Kai picked one of my favorite scenes in the fic so far—Mari waking up in Adrien's bed x))) You can check it out my tumblr (/post/155218879374) if you'd like!

I've mentioned on Tumblr that I had a surprise to go with this chapter, and it actually has to do with Kai ^^ *drum roll* … I loved Kai's take on Mari so much that I commissioned her to do a cover for SitN! It is just… it's so stunning? I was completely blown away. You can check out the full quality image of Kai's amazing artwork on my tumblr at (/post/158396753739)!

Marinette blinked, unable to stop her mouth from dropping open just a fraction.

"What?" she squeaked, glancing anxiously between the fabric in front of her and Felise by her side.

"A pattern," Felise repeated, her tone flat. Well, even more flat—from Marinette's experience so far, the woman seemed to always have a flat tone. It was far from reassuring. "You've seen the designs. This beading needs to be done as quickly as possible for the fitting this week. I've pulled samples of the beads I want you to use, but if you need more, one of the other junior designers can show you where to find them." The woman paused, then pinned Marinette with a stern stare. "Understood?"

"Yes!" Marinette replied hurriedly, her voice still coming out in a squeak. She took a quick, somewhat deeper breath and added in a more reasonable voice, "Got it! I'll start right away."

Felise gave a single nod before heading back to her work station. With an uneven exhale, Marinette looked down at the project before her.

Three yards? Of a complex, beaded design? On her second day?

Brain still running in overdrive, Marinette slumped onto a nearby stool. She took another deep breath, struggling to regain some semblance of control.

Okay, okay, she told herself. This is a lot. Like, a lot a lot. How quickly does she want this, again? She said this week, right? Does that mean Friday? Or sooner? Or—

Marinette forced her thoughts to just stop, slamming her eyes closed in the process.

Slowly. Calmly. She needed to think.

It didn't matter when Felise wanted the fabric by. Regardless, Marinette knew she should work as quickly as she could. With Fashion Week coming up, everything would be a rush job sooner or later.

Focus on moving quickly, but doing a good job, she told herself firmly. Felise will tell me if there's anything incorrect.

Tch, Marinette didn't doubt that.

But no—no. She would deal with that when she got there. For now, it was more important just to get started.

Marinette opened her eyes and looked down at the fabric on the table before her. One step at a time. She woke up her laptop, pulled up the pattern, and checked it against the fabric. Then, picking up the first of the beads, she got to work.

The first repetition was the hardest, of course. Marinette worked over it carefully, keeping a critical eye on the proportions, the number of beads, the placement. Once she was sure she had gotten the first set correct, she marked out the second repetition and began again.

By the fifth repetition, it had become a routine, albeit a slow one that required much double checking. Marinette rolled her neck once she finished the set, glanced around the room, then settled a little more comfortably on her stool so that her shoulders weren't quite so hunched.

By the twelfth repetition, she actually was able to keep half a mind on everything going on in the studio. It was fairly quiet, much as it had been yesterday. But instead of leaving Marinette nervous, she found the atmosphere rather comfortable today. Kari had left her speakers on, and the muted sound of her Spotify playlist drifted through the open room. Kari herself was leaned over the back of Noelle's chair, pointing something out on Noelle's laptop. Vindyha was situated in the far corner, sifting through magazines and binders. Every now and then Selina would come bustling in, grab an item from her work station, then head back to the workroom across the hall, where Felise had set up for the morning.

As awful as it was to admit, Marinette was kind of relieved that Felise was in another room. She was able to breathe a lot easier knowing that she didn't have to worry about Felise glancing over at any moment to check her work.

It wasn't even that Felise was mean or rude… just that she also wasn't particularly nice either. The woman seemed to be all business, and her not-quite-friendly atmosphere was setting Marinette on edge. Noelle's foreboding warning yesterday evening certainly wasn't doing anything to help ease Marinette's nerves.

There was a muted thump, and Marinette looked up from the pattern to see Vindyha setting down a hefty stack of magazines on the other side of the table. As Vindyha sat down opposite her, Marinette couldn't help admiring the calm grace the other Junior Designer seemed to possess, even in such a simple gesture. If she had been in Vindyha's shoes, Marinette likely would have managed to find a way to trip and drop all of the magazines on the floor.

She shot Vindyha a smile and was relieved when the other Junior Design returned it with a small grin of her own. Then she glanced down at Marinette's project and gave her an understanding smile.

"The joys of starting mid-season," she said, sounding a friendly mix of ironic and sympathetic. "It's going to get increasingly hectic from here."

"Yeah… I'm still a bit nervous," Marinette replied truthfully. "But I'm very excited to finally be working in the design department."

"Just do your best," Vindyha told her. "As for the rest… Felise and Abella will tell you where you can improve."

Marinette nodded, not feeling entirely reassured. She would very much welcome their feedback—both Felise and Abella were amazing designers, and it would be great to learn from them. But that wouldn't necessarily make it any less nerve-wracking to hear. In fact, quite the opposite.

Marinette set back to work on her pattern while Vindyha began taking notes, glad for the easy silence that settled between them.

Somewhere between her thoughts and the conversation with Vindyha, Marinette lost track of exactly how many repetitions she stitched. She worked her way through a fair number, and was rather pleased a little while later when she looked over the fabric and realized she had made some decent headway. Rather than counting each repetition, she began to pride herself on finishing a full row. It took much longer, of course, but it was satisfying to see the design inch its way up the bolt.

Marinette had managed to finish a couple additional rows when she realized that the quiet atmosphere of the design room had begun to shift. Selina was back, chatting with Kari, and Noelle had gotten up and left. Even Vindyha stretched and stood up from her stool. Marinette watched in confusion as Felise came in through the entryway just a few moments later.

Vindyha must have caught Marinette's confused frown. "We take a short break every morning at ten," she told Marinette. "Since Selina and Kari basically operate off of their caffeine, and Felise has usually worked her way through an entire pot of tea, it's just kind of become habit." Then, pushing in her chair, Vindyha added, "You can get up and walk around, if you want. Everyone will likely be grabbing more to drink for the next fifteen minutes."

"Thanks," Marinette replied quietly. She was so glad to have someone to explain the little things to her. Especially something as little as this—Marinette had already pestered Felise with tons of questions both yesterday and this morning. Even though a part of her knew that her mentor was supposed to answer her questions, she couldn't help feeling nervous each time she had to interrupt Felise's concentration.

Marinette lingered for a minute, just to make sure. But Vindyha was right: the Senior Designers had all disappeared out the door, Felise with her teapot in hand, and Noelle was still nowhere to be seen.

She wasn't really thirsty, nor did she need any more caffeine. But she did know someone who probably wouldn't mind having her hang around for a few minutes—at least, hopefully.

With a grin, Marinette headed down to visit Hélèn.

…

Adrien held his cup close to his face, breathing in the strong scent of coffee. Today was slightly less hectic than yesterday had been—slightly. But he had already spent two solid hours sorting through a stack of contracts that sat half a foot tall on his desk, and he still had plenty more to prepare for tomorrow. It was shaping up to be an awful Tuesday.

He took a long sip from his cup and waved at Selina and Kari as he headed out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

On most days he was quite grateful that his desk was so close to the kitchen. There were definitely perks to being located on the ground floor in the row of desks just outside of the kitchen's hallway—namely, being the first to the kitchen when an Email went around about free cookies. But today, Adrien almost wished that he worked on the third floor, just so that he could prolong his inevitable return to slogging through contracts.

Adrien was nearly to the row of desks when a quiet peal of laughter echoed off to his right. He glanced over, then froze at the sight of Marinette leaning against Hélèn's desk.

"I'm serious!" Hélèn insisted, grinning like a fiend. "I swear it!"

"There's no way," Marinette replied.

Her face was split in a beaming grin, cheeks bunched up and shoulders hunched. The sight hit Adrien like a punch to the gut, and he hurried his pace until the dividing wall along the desks blocked her from his view. She hadn't seen him—or, at least, he hoped not.

"Hey."

Adrien started at the sudden noise and turned to find Goran watching him from his desk.

"Would you mind looking this over?" Goran asked, gesturing towards his screen. "I need to…" His eyes narrowed, voice trailing off as he looked Adrien over. "Everything okay?"

Adrien glanced quickly back towards Hélèn's desk, which—sure enough—was still blocked from view. Then, with a small smile, he replied, "Yeah, yeah. What did you need?"

Goran followed Adrien's hurried glance, still frowning. "Isn't the new girl over there?" he asked. "Hélèn's friend?"

Adrien froze, his slight smile itching at his lips. "What?" he asked, feigning ignorance. Then, with a quick backwards glance—towards a wall that still revealed absolutely nothing—he said, "Oh, yeah, I guess."

"Didn't you say you know her?" Goran asked. "Aren't you going to say hi?"

Oh lord. Adrien had been hoping that everyone would just … well, drop it. Like, Hey! Yay! New girl! Old news, and now let's never talk about it again! Apparently that was too much to hope for.

Goran was still watching him with a small frown, so Adrien shrugged. "I don't want to interrupt," he lied. He held his breath as another round of giggles floated across the room. Then, seeing Goran's skeptical look, he admitted, "I knew her in high school, but we … lost contact."

More like she had disappeared… But even in his head, the words held less bite than they would have not even a week before. Instead, they merely solicited a dull ache.

With another small shrug, he added, "I wouldn't call us close, and we never..."—the words got stuck in his throat, the gravity of them only just hitting him as they finally came tumbling out—"...never really were, I guess."

Shit. Shit. Now was not the time to be considering all this. A fact that Goran thankfully appeared to pick up on.

"Makes sense," he said with a small shrug. Then, gesturing back towards his computer, he asked, "So, like I was saying, would you mind reading over this Email? The salesperson at one of the new suppliers is being ridiculously adamant, and I want to be careful how I word this."

Adrien released a tight breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. "Sure," he said, relieved to hear his tone taking on a much easier air. "Just send me what you got."

"Thanks, man."

Adrien gave Goran a short wave then went to his desk—the next over. He plunked down in his chair, set his coffee aside, and let his forehead thunk down on the cold wood.

Why did she have to be here? Maybe, if she had slipped off—exactly as she had the first time except for him finally at least knowing who she was—maybe, then, he could have dealt with all of this. Eventually. Somehow.

But she was here, invading his space,his job, and making it impossible for him to avoid thinking about her no matter how hard he tried. And she was—was—

He didn't even know. He didn't know what she was to him anymore. Not just some one night fling, but no longer the partner he had long since stopped believing that he really knew. And yet someone he did know—just never knew well enough.

It was a complicated, tangled, dizzying mess of glass shards in his head, too sharp and painful to attempt to sort through.

With a forceful exhale, Adrien pushed himself back up in his seat and stared determinedly at the screen in front of him. He could save all of these god awful thoughts for when he wasn't at work. Wouldn't be the first time he had spent a sleepless night trapped in his thoughts because of her.

…

It didn't really occur to Adrien until he walked into the photography room mid-day on Wednesday.

He led today's group of models in, closed the door behind him, turned—

—and found Marinette staring at him from across the room.

Because of course. She was a junior designer, after all. Of course she would be there for the first fitting. And every other fitting from here on out, no doubt.

Adrien quickly tore his gaze away from her and focused his attention on the senior designers. "Hello, ladies," he said, with as close to a genuine smile as he could muster. "We're all ready to go?"

"Yes, please come in," Selina replied. She shot Adrien a dazzling smile, and Adrien couldn't help feeling a touch more at ease.

"Wonderful." Adrien beckoned to two of the models, then headed over to Selina, solidly keeping his gaze trained on the designer in front of him. "This is Antja and Liza. They'll be working with you for your first two outfits."

As he made introductions, Adrien slowly allowed himself to ease into his usual flow. This was fine. It's not like he needed to be on edge. He could just talk with the senior designers and then everything would be fine.

He pretended not to notice whenever he caught a glimpse of long, dark hair from the corner of his eye.

Adrien left Antja and Liza in Selina's good hands, then moved over to introduce Kari to the two models who would be working with her and gave them the same run down. He held his breath as Kari gave Natalee a quick once-over—after all, Kari had never worked with the woman, but her reputation as a diva far preceded her. But Natalee was good, and she fit the look that Kari had wanted to a tee.

To his vast relief, Kari simply smiled. "I'm greatly looking forward to working with you both," she said, her usual grin splitting across her face. "Why don't we get started?"

Adrien gave the models one last glance to make sure everything was alright before he turned to the last designer. "Great, and—" He stumbled for half a moment as he found Marinette in front of him. Barely a hiccup—but a noticeable one, nonetheless. Adrien gave a small cough—was that a believable excuse for his trip up? Surely it was. Just a tickle in his throat, nothing more—and gestured to the last two models. "These two lovely ladies are Galina and Homa. Ladies, this is Felise."

Felise stepped forward to greet the models, blessedly blocking Marinette from view.

Adrien gave them the same quick rundown as he had the others. Then, sure that he had hit all the necessary points, Adrien clapped his hands and took a step back to address the entire group. "With this being the first fitting, I'll be sitting in, just in case there are any questions," Adrien said, gesturing to a cluster of chairs along the back wall. "After that, I'll be in and out periodically. Did anyone have any questions before we get started?"

He glanced around, glad to see everyone shaking their heads. "Great," he said with a quick smile. "Designers, feel free to take it from here."

The room quickly settled into easy chatter as each of the senior designers took charge of their groups. Satisfied, Adrien turned and headed to the back corner of the room.

This was, quite honestly, one of his least favorite parts of the job. Not because of the fittings—he enjoyed getting to watch as the designers' creations came together in the weeks leading up to fashion week. But Adrien wasn't here just to answer questions. He was here to evaluate. If any of the models were going to pose a particular problem, Abella wanted to know immediately, so that there would be time to find and sign a replacement if need be.

Adrien understood why it was important, and he also understood why he was asked to do the evaluations. After all, he dealt directly with each of the modeling agencies and models. It was his job to facilitate and—if necessary—terminate contracts.

But that certainly didn't make the process any more fun. He just hoped that he'd be lucky this season and run into as few problems as possible.

Adrien settled into a chair and took out his notebook, flipping to the first free page. Then pen in hand, he watched.

It was far from a perfect method. After all, he couldn't quite hear everything that was being said. There was too much conversation going on to pick it all out.

But he could see the easy way that Liza was working with Selina, her shoulders relaxed and a small smile on her lips. Adrien wasn't particularly surprised. This was the third Fashion Week that Liza was modeling for Attitude. She was easy going and very professional—Adrien really didn't need to worry too much about her.

On the other hand, he could also see how high Noelle's shoulders had crept up around her shoulders while she helped Natalee into a dress. Noelle's usually bored look was twisted into just a hint of a frown, and it was readily apparent that she was not particularly happy to be working with the woman. Natalee seemed blissfully ignorant of the subtle looks Noelle was shooting her, and Kari also seemed, if not unaware, at least calm enough to take the slight tension in stride and not allow it to get in the way of her work. Adrien worried his bottom lip and jotted down a reminder. He was going to have to keep an eye on Natalee, but so far his gut was telling him that things would be alright.

Homa was the only model of this particular bunch that was new this season, but she seemed to be getting along just fine with—Marinette.

Adrien swallowed thickly, quickly training his gaze back on his notepad. He couldn't keep doing this. He needed to be able to observe the models, and to do that, he needed to be able to watch her without choking up.

It's not like he wanted to watch her. He had seen more than enough beautiful women in his life. And if the swaying of her long, dark hair dredged up memories of the way she had looked Sunday morning—of the dark silhouette of her slipping out of her dress on Saturday night… Well, it certainly wasn't by choice. No, no, definitely not. This was just part of his job.

But a part of Adrien couldn't help fearing that she might misinterpret the attention as him—as him—well—

He didn't even know. Yearning for her, maybe? Because he wasn't. He definitely wasn't.

Or maybe she would think that he wanted to make up—to be partners again. (Not that they had ever truly been partners in the first place, he reminded himself. Not when she had zero trust in him.)

Yeah, he definitely didn't want that. He was doing just fine on his own.

Really, he didn't want her to look at him and have any expectations. To think that he had expectations.

Because he didn't. Or, at least, that's what he told himself. Because having expectations of her was the biggest mistake he had ever made. And he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to put himself through that—not again.

Even if she had been telling the truth. Even if it hadn't been intentional. Even if she had been trying to protect him. It didn't change the fact that she hadn't trusted him and had put him through hell.

She had apologized, but…

But, well, he didn't know if he could forgive her. He certainly didn't want to forgive her. Especially since she had been all too ready to turn around and just do it again—walk out of his life without even a word. He couldn't wake up to the sight of her sneaking off again. He couldn't even look at her without the image rising unbidden in his mind.

Which… was proving to be an issue. Because watching her interact with the models was part of his job.

She turned and brought something over to Felise, and with a start Adrien realized he had been staring at her—and not watching the models, like he was supposed to. He resolutely turned his gaze to take in the models working with Selina again. See? Easy.

So why couldn't he just do that with her, too? What he really needed was for everything to just be, y'know, normal between them. So he could observe her as she worked and have it be as impersonal as him watching Noelle or Vindyha or any of the models.

Adrien took a deep breath, then glanced back over at Marinette. She was leaning over to closely examine Homa's bodice, the tip of her tongue stuck between her teeth in concentration.

Adrien felt his stomach swoop and his mouth go dry, and he quickly looked back down at his notepad.

This isn't anywhere near as difficult as you're making it, idiot, he resolutely told himself. She's just another woman—just like any other person in the world. Stop acting like some lovestruck teenager.

The thought made him flinch. He wasn't, he reminded himself. He was the furthest thing from lovestruck.

He was just doing his job.

That's all.

Simple.

He ran his gaze across the room, eyes sticking to her form for half a second before he quickly looked away again.

Right. So simple. If he weren't such a fucking idiot, maybe.

Angry with himself, Adrien sank down further in his chair and made himself busy with writing down something useful before the fitting was over.

…

Was he staring at her?

He was totally staring at her, wasn't he?

Marinette chanced a glance over her shoulder, only to find that Adrien was writing something down on his notepad.

Well.

Okay, maybe he wasn't staring at her. She was probably blowing this whole thing out of proportion. After all, he was simply doing his job.

See, girl? she told herself pointedly. He doesn't care about you—don't flatter yourself.

It was painful, but she took that statement and repeated it as often as she breathed, driving the nail in a little deeper each time. He doesn't care. He doesn't care. He doesn't care.

And neither should you.

Easier said than done, if the way her heart ached with each reminder was any indication.

Marinette took a deep breath, then glanced back up to Felise … who was watching her expectantly. Oh shit.

Marinette blinked quickly, stomach flooding with dread. "I'm so sorry, what was that?" she asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Could you please grab the shawl and get it settled on Galina correctly?" Felise said, words pronounced just enough to make it clear she was repeating herself.

Marinette nodded quickly. "Yes, of course."

She was halfway through turning when Felise added, "Marinette."

Marinette used the momentum of her pivot to turn herself all the way around, right back to looking at Felise. "Yes?" she asked, cursing her squeaky tone.

"With this being the first fitting, we really need to ensure everything is done with a careful eye." Felise said it with a normal tone, her gaze no more sharp than usual. But the meaning of her words was perfectly clear: this is important, and you're not doing your job well enough.

Marinette swallowed and nodded her head at a much more controlled pace, somehow managing to meet Felise's eyes evenly. Quite honestly, she wanted nothing more than to duck under one of the racks and hide for the rest of her life. Which was ridiculous. She was a grown ass adult, goddammit. She had worked in the industry for three years—in Marketing rather than Design, perhaps, but still. What was it about this woman that made Marinette feel like she was a five year old who couldn't tell fleece from cotton?

Felise nodded once, apparently satisfied, and turned her attention back to re-pinning the back seam of Homa's dress. Sucking in a relieved breath, Marinette hurried over to the rack and retrieved the shawl. It wasn't finished yet—eventually it would be overlaid with the material that Marinette was sewing the patterned beading to. Which, quite honestly, wasn't doing anything to calm Marinette's nerves. Felise hadn't commented at all on Marinette's progress so far. Marinette still couldn't tell if Felise had expected for it to be done already or not. She knew that today was just the initial fitting, but maybe Felise had intended to finish the shawl for today. What if she was throwing Felise off schedule?

Marinette forced herself to take a deep breath, taking the shawl from the rack. All you can do is your best, girl, she reminded herself. So focus!.

As she walked back, Marinette stole another quick glance to the back corner, where Adrien was still writing on his notepad. She quickly yanked her gaze back toward the front of the room, stomach twisting uncertainly. Really, this was growing absolutely ridiculous. There was no reason to get so flustered just because he was here. After all, he was technically going to be "here" every single day, given that they worked at the same company and all. She was going to have to get used to it one way or the other.

No better time to start than the present. Or, at least, that's what she was trying very hard to convince herself.

Marinette hurried back over to where Galina was standing in front of the mirrors. "Would you please hold your arms out to the side?" she asked.

The model slid her eyes over to meet Marinette's in the mirror and did as asked, expression rather bored.

Quite honestly, the woman's attitude—or lack thereof—was rubbing Marinette the wrong way. But she plastered on a bright smile and said, "Thanks!"

Marinette set to work adjusting the shawl, which was a rather intricate task, given that the shawl was made to clasp onto the sleeves of the pantsuit. It was a neat little detail that Marinette really admired—it allowed the shawl to drape like wings without falling off of the model's arms completely, matching the flowing nature of the rest of the design. However, the clasps were currently pinned in place, making them much more precarious. Marinette worked on the right sleeve with painstaking care to make sure she didn't accidentally mess up the fabric or the alignment of the clasps.

Then, satisfied that the pins hadn't been jostled and that the clasps would hold, Marinette shifted over to the left sleeve. She shook out the end of the shawl, draping it properly over Galina's arm.

She hadn't even realized her eyes had strayed to Adrien's reflection in the mirror until his bright green gaze was suddenly meeting hers dead on.

Marinette flinched, her fingers fumbling with the pin in her hands as she quickly tore her gaze away…

… only to find Galina watching her in the mirror, her lips twisted into a slight frown that somehow still managed to be gracefully beautiful. Galina raised her eyebrows as Marinette met her stare.

"A bit flighty today, hm?" she asked with a thick Russian accent.

Marinette flushed deep red, quickly ducking her head back down to focus on the shawl. "No, no," she assured Galina quickly. "Just had a sudden chill. Sorry to have jostled you."

She chanced a quick glance up to see Galina still watching her with a considering frown. Galina's gaze slowly traveled across the mirror toward Adrien's reflection, then returned to Marinette's face with a small smirk.

"Is the audience flustering you?" Galina asked, a slight, teasing lilt to her voice. "Is that what's the issue?"

"What? No," Marinette shot back with a forced laugh, her voice a little too high to be believable. She fought desperately against the second wave of red working its way across her cheeks.

"Oh honey," Galina replied, shaking her head with a small laugh. "Do you even know who that is?"

Marinette blinked, too taken off guard by the question to respond. Did she know who that was? For real?

But Galina's smile only grew at Marinette's stunned silence. "That's Adrien Agreste, sweetie," Galina told her, sounding for all the world as if she were talking to a child. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. He probably hasn't even noticed you."

It hurt. Not because the woman was treating her like some ignorant child. Not because it was Galina who knew nothing.

No, it was because, despite the fact that Galina was so in the dark, what she said was probably true.

Oh, sure. Adrien had noticed her. Of this, Marinette had no doubts.

But Galina's words hit too close to what she had been telling herself all morning: He doesn't care. At all. He's fucking Adrien Agreste. He doesn't need you, and he hates your guts.

Jaw clenched tightly, Marinette bit her tongue and got back to work adjusting the last of the clasps. Then, smoothing over the shawl with perhaps a touch more force than necessary, Marinette simply said, "Arms down, please."

Galina lowered her arms carefully, tilting her head as she watched the fabric settle. Marinette refused to meet her eyes, instead focusing on tucking a loose fold back into place.

"You're finished?" Felise asked, stepping up by Marinette's side. She looked the sleeves over as Marinette nodded. "Good. Finish pinning Homa's hem while I work on Galina's pants."

Marinette gratefully slipped away, heading over to where Homa stood a few feet down the wall-length mirror.

"Hey," Marinette said with a small smile. She was relieved when Homa shot her a genuine smile in return. "Did Felise get started on the hem already, or…?"

"Yes," Homa said, lifting her skirt and twisting it some for Marinette to see. "She had started it over here."

"Great," Marinette replied, a little relieved. It was going to be a lot easier to follow Felise's hemline than to estimate—possibly incorrectly—how high up it should be on her own.

She walked around to Homa's other side and knelt on the ground. Thankfully, from this angle Homa's skirt blocked both Galina and the back corner from view.

It was ridiculous how comforting that realization was. And, with a twinge of guilt, Marinette realized that it was a problem.

After all, just because she didn't like Galina didn't mean that Marinette wouldn't have to bite her tongue and play nice. She had learned long ago that the professional world was just like that: sometimes there were people she didn't like. So what? Big deal. Grow up and move on.

So Adrien hated her. So they had a messy, sticky past that Marinette couldn't even begin to make heads or tails of at the moment.

So what? That didn't change the fact that they were coworkers. And, at the end of the day, she was just going to have to grow up and move on. If she was going to do her job—and do it well—she needed to be able to work with Adrien properly.

As the morning inched along, however, it became increasingly apparent that this conclusion was much easier to come to than to act on.

Rather than finding her eyes being pulled back to Adrien every few minutes, Marinette suddenly found it difficult to even look in his general direction. She went about her work with single-minded focus, honing in on each direction that Felise gave her.

When Felise tapped her shoulder at the end of the morning, Marinette was surprised to look up and discover that she, Felise, and Homa were the only ones left in the room.

Felise eyed Homa's outfit up and down, then nodded with pursed lips. "Very good, thank you for your patience, Homa," she said. As she helped the model out of the dress, she added to Marinette, "Go ahead and take your lunch. We'll go over the details this afternoon."

"Thanks," Marinette replied. "It was nice to meet you," she told Homa, before hurrying to return her materials to their proper places.

On her way out, Marinette spared a despairing glance toward the now empty chair in the corner. Dread filled her stomach, and she nervously bit her lip. She knew she needed to do something—for her own sake, if nothing else. The hard part was going to be figuring out what.

A/N: Okay, let's talk. First and foremost, this chapter was supposed to be twice as long. I made an executive decision to cut it in half for a few reasons. But the biggest was because it's now been six months since I posted Chapter 12, and I didn't want to make you all wait anymore. (Also, at nearly 6k words, it's definitely long enough to be its own chapter, and it had a decent ending point.)

I will say, I've already started working on Chapter 14. It covers a particular plot point that I've been looking forward to writing for quite some time. And … I mean, quite honestly, I'm feeling inspired for this story again. Which is something I haven't felt for months and months now. I love this story so much, but...

Well, it occurred to me while I was writing this chapter exactly why SitN chapters have been taking me so long compared to my other fics. This is by far the angstiest, most emotion-packed fic I've written, and it takes not only time and concentration, but also a lot of emotional energy to write. It just kind of clicked with me and it's like, "Ooooh, that's why." I LOVE this fic, but once I'm done with a chapter I always feel so exhausted, and it finally makes sense why. And especially when I had a lot of other emotionally draining things going on in my life, I just didn't have the mental or emotional energy to work on this story.

All of that said, I'm determined to do a better job with posting at a more consistent rate. Things in my life have definitely been getting to a point where it should hopefully be easier for me to manage. Between that and my returning inspiration, I'm tentatively hoping to update once every month—maybe once every two months, if necessary. Obviously I'm good at flaking, so don't take that as any kind of written promise. But there's still so much of this story to explore, and I want to be able to share it with you all.

I listened to Martin Garrix's/Bebe's "In the Name of Love" a bunch while working on this chapter. (For all you YOI fans out there, it's 100% because of a truly stunning YouTube AMV [/watch?v=rt0iKDJ4jHs].)

Also, I FINALLY made myself a reference document for all of my OCs for this fic (because there are a ton, and I don't want to accidentally forget certain details about them). There are currently TWENTY. And more to come. Although luckily not TOO many more, ahaha. And only a few of them will play any major roles. I'm very proud of each of them, especially Hélèn and Felise. But seriously, it's a very good thing I finally decided to get organized, given how many there are. If it would be helpful, I might put together a reference post on my blog to help people keep them straight (along with some reference pictures). Let me know if you'd be interested in that.

Special thanks to moridoko-sama, who took the time to talk with me about some cultural questions I had ^^ And of course a super huge thanks to kickassfu, who not only betas all of these chapters, but also is one of the most phenomenal friends ever. Without your encouragement, Maf, I don't know where this story would be right now.

And a huge, huge thanks to all of you for reading. Whether you're new to the story or have been following it from the beginning or anywhere in between, all of the love you folks show this story is overwhelming and means the world to me. Thanks for sticking with it.

If you want, come scream with me on my (nsfw) Tumblr (url: konekat) ^^