A/N: My integration into a new fandom is not complete without a story involving motorcycles. A few things to mention, but for the sake of this story Marinette's bakery is several blocks away from school. I realize that the legal driving age (driving by yourself that is) for France is 18, but Adrien is obviously not that old in this fic. Your welcome to assume the laws have changed for the sake of this story, or that he is able to get away with it because he's kinda famous.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot. I don't even own a Ducati. Sad day.

Don't wait for an invitation.

No need for reservation.

This life is an exploration

And you gotta see what I see in you.

-Capital Cities

Black and silver paint gleamed in the brilliant afternoon sunlight, highlighting the sleek contours of the machine in front of him.

Adrien was in love again.

Power and speed and stealth practically radiated off the motorcycle; Ducati stamped across the side in bold manuscript. It was only supposed to be a background prop for the photo shoot that day, and it wasn't even the blond's prop to begin with.

Still, he couldn't help but let out a sigh as he continued to admire it up close, makeup crew forgotten. His overt staring did not go unnoticed.

"It's a gorgeous thing, no?" a thick Italian accent inquired on his left. Adrien was startled to find a middle age gentleman looking down at him with a knowing glance before turning toward the bike. "Beautifully crafted to perfection. Handles the roads of cities and mountains like a dream. Not to mention room for two if you wish to take your bella signora with you," he winked.

Adrien could feel his face flush slightly at the thought of his Lady, arms wrapped tightly around him as they wove in and out of the quaint Parisian streets. He let out a long-suffering sigh, breaking the daydream. "When is this model even scheduled for release?"

"About eight months," the older man replied, trying not to laugh at the boy's despondent expression. "When do you turn eighteen?"

"Two years," Adrien grumbled dejectedly. Muffled calls in the distance announced that his makeup artist had noticed his disappearance and that he needed to be making his way back toward the temporary tent.

"You are Adrien Agreste, no?" his companion inquired. Adrien nodded. Gingerly, the man extracted a wallet from inside his suit jacket. "Have your agent call me. I think we can come to some sort of agreement." He winked after handing Adrien a business card.

The blond could feel his jaw drop when he read the fine print on the sleek card stock. The guy was on the marketing board for Ducati.

"I will definitely be in touch," he smiled, tucking the card away and walking back to the frazzled-looking makeup stylist.

There was surprisingly little arm pulling for Adrien to get the bike. His father seemed pleased enough to have the Ducati connections strengthened when they called to have Adrien model their new line of bikes. Gabriel Agreste even designed a special edition leather jacket to go with Adrien's promotional shoots. In return, Adrien not only became the face of the new line, but also received his dream bike and some cash considerations.

Which was how Marinette came across it parked outside the school one beautiful spring day. Normally she didn't spare motorbikes second glances unless they zoomed by her on the streets, but for whatever reason the glint of silver caught the early morning light along with her attention.

And though she would never admit it, the smooth coils of black and silver reminded her of her feline partner.

"Hey, Marinette!" Alya called, walking over to her best friend. "Whatcha looking at-whoa! Sweet bike! That's new."

"Mmmmhmmmm."

"Since when are you into motorcycles?" the red head asked slyly.

"I'm not!" the dark haired girl denied. "But I can appreciate art when I see it. I wonder who it belongs to," Marinette murmured, new fashion ideas bouncing around her brain as she resisted running her fingers over the logo.

"Well, we have all day to find out!" the journalist smiled, tugging her arm toward the entrance. "But we don't have all day to get to our first class before we're late. Let's go!"

Reluctantly, Marinette spared the motorcycle one last glance before allowing herself to be dragged inside.

Alya, despite her journalistic tenacity, forgot about their plans to discover the owner of the new bike halfway through lunch. There was too much new footage from the akuma attack that weekend for her to analyze with her best friend. The thought of the motorcycle was even pushed to the back burner of Marinette's mind, simmering on low for future pondering. She was too preoccupied on giving Alya wild goose ideas to chase regarding Ladybug's identity.

But there it stood in all of its shiny newness after the last bell, waiting to be ridden off into the afternoon traffic. Alya was still inside, so Marinette quickly produced her pencil and sketchbook, leaning against the cement banister and hoping to jot down some of that morning's inspiration before it disappeared with its muse.

So intent was she on her task that she didn't hear anyone stop next to her.

"You like the motorcycle?" came a sly voice to her right.

"It's beautiful," she nodded, pencil stopped mid-line before she realized she had been caught ogling. Slowly, the young girl turned to look over her shoulder, her stomach knotting itself ten times over.

Adrien was smiling amusedly, and she had to blink several times before she could wipe the image of another boy giving her the same look before. He had a helmet tucked under one arm, and she was surprised she hadn't noticed it earlier-probably because it was stashed in his locker all day.

"I-I'm sorry!" She stammered out, quickly shoving the notebook in her bag. "I didn't mean to be rude!"

The blond waved his hand good-naturedly. "It's not a problem." His face morphed slightly, hesitantly, as an idea began to form. "You...You wouldn't want to go for a ride, would you? I could take you home if you want..." A hand came to tangle nervously with the hair at the back of his head as he fought a light blush.

Marinette's face glowed with the heat of a supernova. "Really?" she squeaked out before clearing her throat and trying again. "I mean... Are you sure? You only have one helmet..." Her eyes drifted up, finally brave enough to meet his gaze.

"I'll be careful. Promise," he smiled, and she didn't think it could get any brighter as he pulled the helmet over her head.

Numbly, Marinette followed him, wondering if she had accidentally fainted and was dreaming up this entire scenario. She didn't want to leave Alya hanging, but she also knew that her best friend would kill her personally if she didn't go with Adrien right now. The heroine managed to type out a quick text before arriving at the motorcycle.

Found a ride home. Will fill you in. Sorry! -M

"Ready?"

Marinette blinked up from her phone screen. Adrien was already sitting on the bike, patiently waiting for her to finish.

"Y-Yeah! Sorry," she carefully slid in the seat behind him, gingerly adjusting her bookbag across her back before tentatively wrapping both arms around his middle. Any minute now her heart was going to combust and she was going to wake up.

He took this as an affirmative to continue, which Marinette was thankful for as she was focusing all her energy on not hyperventilating and falling off the bike.

The machine roared to life beneath them. Adrien flicked the kickstand up with a twitch of his ankle, and the duo was off down the street, Marinette subconsciously tightening her hold around his waist.

"Am I going too fast?" Adrien shouted into the wind, slowing his speed as they came to the stoplight.

"No! I-It's fine!" Marinette yelled back, her voice even more muffled by the helmet. "You can go faster!"

She wasn't sure that he had heard her until he turned around, his smirk worthy of Cat Noir. "Faster, you say?"

The light changed and they were off like a shot, Marinette's squeal of surprise muffled by the wind whipping around them along with several car horns. In and out of traffic they wove, their school a speck in the side mirror.

Gradually, Marinette adjusted to the sensation of flying down the streets of Paris at ridiculous speeds (that liar said he'd be careful, she mentally chided) and relaxed her grip around the boy in front of her, moving her head from its initial position pressed into his spine to look around and take in the sites. Spring was in full swing, and the fruit tree blossoms flew through the air as they rushed by, like skirts billowing over ventilation shafts in the sidewalks.

The dark haired girl began to observe the subtle movements of his torso as he leaned into to turns, and she followed his example, relishing in the laughter she felt more than heard bubbling inside his chest.

"You've got it," he encouraged, pulling to a stop as the light changed to red. A sudden thought seemed to occur to him as he swiveled around to look at the girl behind him.

"Um, Marinette, what's your address again?"

Had he been Cat Noir, Marinette would have face-palmed her partner in the forehead. But as it was, her crush was the one asking, and so she lifted the visor and told him, watching as that mischievous grin tugged at his lips once more.

"I think I know a shortcut."

Adrien's shortcut was the longest route Marinette had ever taken to get home from school. Their winding detour involved two back-tracks down side streets and a handful of illegal turns. Despite the roundabout way they arrived, she couldn't wipe the grin off her face when she disembarked, removing the helmet and handing it back to her blond classmate. She could feel her hair sticking up at odd angles, so Marinette undid the ties while talking to her cohort.

"Thanks, Adrien, I had a blast," she beamed, pleased that she had managed to get a full sentence out without breaking down and mumbling gibberish.

"N-No problem," Adrien stuttered, entranced with the causal grace his classmate's hair framed her cheeks before she pulled it back into its customary pigtails. A matching grin broke out on his face as he fiddled with the helmet. "We should do it again sometime, yeah?"

Marinette nodded enthusiastically in agreement. "Yes! Definitely."

Carefully, Adrien pulled the helmet on and revved his bike. "See you tomorrow, princess!" With a two finger salute, he was off down the road at the same ridiculous speeds as before.

Her heart tripped over itself for a brief moment. Did he...did he just call her princess?

She shook her head as though to rid herself of the thought. It was just a coincidence. Besides, her phone had been buzzing angrily in her bag for the last ten minutes. There were more pressing thoughts to deal with at the moment. Like how she was going to tell Alya about everything that had happened.

Five full minutes of squealing on the phone the night before followed by a two hour long session of gossip that was only interrupted by dinner did nothing to deter the sheer energy with which Alya accosted her best friend the following morning on their way to school. It was like Marinette hadn't spent hours last night going over every detail with equal excitement.

Still, Alya's joy for her friend was infectious, and both girls started the day in relatively high spirits. But their good moods were doomed when they arrived into the classroom in time to overhear Chloe complaining to Adrien that he hadn't even taken her for a ride on his new motorcycle.

"I only have one helmet, Chloe," Adrien replied calmly, setting his stuff down and pulling out the necessary homework to turn in. Seeing that Chloe was about to argue the point, Adrien added, "And I have a full afternoon booked, so it'll have to be some other time."

Chloe, though not happy with his response, didn't have time to argue further as the instructor had just entered and was already demanding their assignments.

Alya yanked Marinette down behind the desk under the pretense of pulling stuff out of their book bags. "Uh, correct me if I'm wrong, Mari, but didn't he give his only helmet to you yesterday?"

Marinette socked Alya in the shoulder. "Shhhh! She'll hear you!" she hissed at the red head. Alya shrugged and bid a good morning to their friends in the row in front.

"Morning Nino, Adrien. Do you mind passing our homework up front?" Alya was already brandishing a small pile of papers in the boys' general direction.

Nino grabbed the assignments from both girls before turning to face Adrien. "I can't believe you're gonna let Chloe ride your bike before your best bro," he directed at the blond in mock indignation. "Cold, man. Cold."

"You can have dibs," Adrien replied mildly, handing over his homework to Nino as well. "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"Working at the record store," Nino groaned before walking to the teachers desk. "Maybe Friday?" He asked on his way back to his seat.

"Leaving early for a shoot," came the blond's gloomy reply.

"She's totally gonna ride that bad boy before me, and then it's gonna be covered in Chloe germs," Nino whined in dramatic fashion.

The Parisian hero rolled his eyes. "I promise to not let Chloe ride my bike before you."

The DJ threw his arms around Adrien's neck and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. "You're the best, man," he pretended to tear up, causing Alya to snort behind him in attempt to mask her laughter.

"Laugh all you want, Lois Lane," Nino's fingers formed into a hand gun, and he winked at Alya. "But I get to ride the bike before you."

Alya's smile became even wider. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but Marinette's got you beat."

Nino spun around so quickly in his seat that Adrien had whiplash from watching. "DUDE! You sly dog! I had no idea!"

Marinette let out a high pitched "eep!" and Adrien hardly had time to stutter out a reply when their teacher interjected.

"Glad to know you four are so enthusiastic about medieval French history. Nino, perhaps you would like to lead the class in the discussion of the initiation of Renaissance art and how Jean Fouquet contributed?"

The boy in question shot Adrien a look that plainly said 'We're going to talk about this new development with Marinette later' before turning to the front and trying to dig through his brain on the specific manuscript illuminations the painter was noted for.

"Dude, I can't believe you did that," Nino socked Adrien's bicep after the model had recounted the afternoon drive with Marinette the day before.

Adrien just groaned and closed his eyes, taking another bite of his gourmet sandwich and wishing his best friend wasn't so loud. He was sure the DJ's voice was carrying over to the other side of the courtyard where several of their other friends had gathered for lunch.

"C'mon, Nino. Keep it down. This doesn't need to be gossiped around the school for the next few weeks," Adrien pleaded.

"So, what? You have a thing for her? How long has this been going on?" The brunette demanded, removing his hat to readjust it.

"WHAT? NO!" Adrien yelped, covering his mouth before taking his voice down several notches. "It's nothing like that. I told you, she was admiring the bike, like everyone else," he shot Nino a pointed look, "and I just thought maybe she'd want to go for a ride."

Nino snorted at how oblivious his friend was. Even more surprising was the fact that Marinette had managed to hold on the entire time and hadn't spontaneously combusted. "Buuuuuuut..." the DJ drawled, pausing for effect when he finally had Adrien's attention, "...You totally wanna take her for a ride again. Am I right?"

Adrien was about to protest the double innuendo, but the rant died behind his perfectly straight teeth when Nino held up his hands in what could either have been a surrender or 'you need to figure out your feels, man' sort of way. So the blond paused, glancing surreptitiously across the courtyard where the object of their discussion and her best friend were currently chatting.

His voice sounded faraway when he responded to Nino, and his friend almost missed the hushed affirmative. "Yeah."

Later that afternoon, when Adrien wove through the streets on his metal steed, a bike shop window display caught his attention. One illegal turn and a sketchy parking job later, the model was inside, looking at the different helmets. He was tempted to get another black one to match his, but the one that initially caught his attention from the window continued to draw him back.

"How much for that one?"

Wednesday, that happy middle hump of the week that indicated the weekend was within reach, became an unsuspecting turning point for Adrien. He paced outside after the final bell, his body trembling with nervous energy as he waited for his classmate to exit on her usual route.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long for Marinette, who was digging through her bookbag, as she casually strolled down the cement stairs. She hadn't seen him.

"Hey, Marinette!" Adrien called, his jitters coming to a halt as the girl in question froze in place, her eyes cautiously meeting his gaze as though unsure he was really talking to her. He waved her over in what he hoped was a casual manner.

Deciding it was safe to approach, Marinette made her way toward the blond, a question forming in her eyes. "Hey," she mumbled softly, a pink blush coating the freckles of her cheeks. "What's up?"

"Well..." Adrien drawled, excitement overcoming his anxiousness, "I picked this up the other day-" he unlocked the sleek red helmet from his bike -"and was wondering if maybe you'd like to help me break it in?"

His smile could have powered all of Paris's lights for a year, and Marinette knew she would be powerless to refuse. "I..I'd really like that," she accepted the helmet, sliding it over her head.

She didn't think it was possible for his grin to get any wider, but she was proven wrong.

"Really? Awesome! And it has this sweet feature-hang on," he fiddled with something in his helmet before pulling it over his own blond mop. "What do you think?" His voice echoed inside her helmet.

"No way! A two way radio?" Came her excited voice as she watched him mount the bike.

"Yep! Now we don't have to shout at each other," he replied just as eagerly as she sat behind him. The bike purred to life beneath them once more, and as soon as her arms wrapped around him, Adrien took off like a cannon.

The trip to the bakery was shorter this time, much to Marinette's disappointment. Nevertheless, she handed him her helmet with a smile. "Thanks for the lift, Adrien. But I have to ask, why the red color instead of getting two matching black helmets?"

He flipped his visor up momentarily. "I guess... It just reminded me of you." Before she could see him blush, the visor was obscuring his face once more, and he shouted, "See you tomorrow!" over his shoulder as the bike roared down the street.

It reminded him of her.

That phrase haunted her the rest of the day, keeping her up into late hours as she tossed and turned restlessly, pleasant tingles making their way from the tips of her toes to the flush of her cheeks. He had purchased a rather pricey piece of protective gear in that color because of her. Adrien, THE ADRIEN AGRESTE, the boy she had been pining over for as long as anyone could recall, thought of her when she wasn't around.

Finally giving up at falling asleep at a reasonable hour, Marinette called Tikki to transform her. If she couldn't sleep, she might as well patrol.

Nino finally had a turn riding Adrien's bike that Thursday morning when the blond stopped by to take his best friend to school. Having unsuccessfully tried to talk the model into letting him drive, Nino instead directed their conversation to how much power the engine had and just how fast it could potentially go.

Their happy conversation continued into the classroom where Marinette and Alya were already situated comparing answers from the homework. The girls looked up, and as the journalist attempted to get Nino's attention and figure out just what was going on, Adrien subtly winked at Marinette before sliding behind the desk.

Grateful that Alya had missed Adrien's exchange with her, Marinette fought the blood rushing to her face and turned toward her other two friends instead, listening to Nino chatter excitedly about the motorcycle's features to Alya.

"Well that's swell, Nino," the journalist replied, rolling her eyes before addressing Adrien. "Hey Agreste, when do I get to bum a ride home?"

"Ummm...well..." Adrien blinked at the girl before pulling up his schedule from his phone. "I can do this afternoon if we leave right after school. Fencing doesn't start for about half an hour-"

"Kidding, kidding," Alya waved away his sheepish smile. "Just giving you a hard time."

"I don't mind," came his earnest answer, and he watched the silent conversation between Alya and Marinette that seemed entirely composed of blinking and eyebrow movements. In the end, the dark haired girl shot Alya a complacent smile that seemed to bring the dialogue to a conclusion.

"Alright. I'll take you up on that offer, Adrien," she grinned, shooting Marinette another silent look that seemed to spell out all sorts of unspeakable things if Marinette's pupil size were any indication.

Before Adrien could decipher the mysteries of female telepathy, the instructor strolled into the room and began passing back stacks of papers.

Later, between shouts across the two way radio for him to go slower and random questions about what he thought of Marinette, Adrien was quite certain Alya would never willing hop on the back of his bike again.

Sadly, Chloe had been put off for too long, and Adrien couldn't help but feel like a weight dropped into the bottom of his stomach as she had finally managed to wheedle a ride home from him. Sighing quietly to himself, the blond model deliberately switched off the communication link between the helmets knowing it was the only peace he would get on the drive over to her father's hotel.

His predicament seemed almost like betrayal when he noted the look on Marinette's face as he pulled on his helmet. He wanted to tell her anything to wipe that carefully crafted mask to cover what he was sure was disgust underneath, but Chloe's smug visage and constant talking made him rethink his strategy. It was better just to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Adrien only felt slightly guilty for pretending not to hear Chloe's screams over the sounds of traffic as he flew down the old roads. They made it to the hotel in record time, and after brushing off all her offers for him to come inside with a well placed excuse, Adrien flipped his visor down and was gone in a blur of black and silver.

Despite the absolute terror lacing her shrieks on the ride to the hotel, Chloe wouldn't stop pestering Adrien to drive her to and from school at every opportunity. There were only so many times he could use his extracurriculars and photo shoot excuses before she made the phone calls that would get her his actual schedule showing times that he really was available.

The simple solution presented itself not in the form of Nino, to Adrien's surprise, but Marinette. Nino came first to mind being his best friend, but the more the blond thought the more he knew that Nino liked to encourage him to go fast and do stunts and would likely result in his father taking the bike away or both of them injured by their own stupidity.

No, Marinette was the logical choice. She knew how to lean into the turns, to adjust to the subtle nuances of balancing on the bike. And when they went faster than the posted speed signs, her shrieks of surprise followed by inevitable laughter reverberated down his spine and ignited something within him that Nino most certainly didn't. She made him want to be reckless and cautious simultaneously, a blatant contradiction of emotions that curled around his knuckles and reverberated through coils of metal and fiberglass beneath its tandem riders.

Adrien didn't want to put too much thought into the emotions Marinette stirred within him; his heart still belonged to Ladybug after all. But this new development in their friendship was becoming addictive, and the young man wasn't willing to part with how...complete he felt. She was a candle that burned in the back of his mind long after she left, and that presence made the hollowness of his home life more bearable.

So it was with a new found determination that the model sought out his dark haired classmate, who seemed to be everywhere and no where at the same time. Adrien's luck seemed to conspire against him when he attempted to talk to her at the beginning of class on Monday only to be interrupted by the bell. He had to squeeze in a private fencing lesson over lunch to prepare for his tournament next week and didn't catch a glimpse of her again until the last period of the day. Adrien turned to face her at the end of class but was immediately accosted by Chloe from behind, demanding that he take her home and they work on their physics homework together.

"Sorry Chloe, I can't. My Chinese tutor had to switch lesson days." He ground his perfectly straight teeth together, slightly annoyed at being foiled from asking Marinette to drive with him. Several speed laws were dutifully ignored as he arrived home in record time. Tomorrow would be better.

Tuesday he made it as far as approaching Marinette before an akuma attacked. The latter half of his afternoon was spent in pursuit of a disgruntled upperclassman with a vendetta against technology for losing his entire thesis project. Two cataclysms, one lucky charm, and a benevolent extension from the teacher later, Adrien found himself hurling down the road at ridiculous speeds trying not to be too tardy for his photo shoot.

On Wednesday, Adrien's fencing practice went until the sky darkened. The few short words he had spoken to his shy classmate involved a French assignment and borrowing a pen (Plagg had somehow caused every last ballpoint in his bag to explode into an oozy mess of ink and ruined notebook paper).

By the time Thursday rolled around, the model despaired of his plan ever succeeding. But as luck would have it, Adrien spied Marinette loitering outside the entrance at the end of school looking through her history textbook.

"Hey! Marinette!"

Her pigtails whipped around as she turned to face him. "H-Hey!" She smiled widely back, and he was so excited to finally have a moment to talk to her that he didn't notice how awkwardly it seemed to stretch across her mouth.

"I was wondering if maybe, if you weren't busy, that is..." His hand awkwardly brushed through the hairs on the nape of his neck, "...you might wanna go for a ride again?"

"Oh!" She looked slightly upset, and Adrien could feel his chest tighten and his heart drop into his stomach. "I can't today. Alya and I spend Thursday afternoons together. But-"

"ADRIKINS!"

Chloe's interruption could not have had worse timing, and Marinette's face morphed from upset to empathetic to determined at the horror flashing across Adrien's eyes.

Without thinking, she grabbed his wrist, and in a low tone whispered conspiratorially, "You know, Alix has been wanting to check out your new bike. I bet she'd be down for a ride."

Green eyes met hers, and Marinette could pinpoint the exact moment her plan sunk in. "You think she'd be up for it?" He inquired eagerly, momentary panic forgotten.

"For sure! There she is! HEY ALIX!" Marinette called out, spotting their petite classmate in the process of pulling on her rollerblades.

"Yo! What up, Mari?" Alix called back.

Adrien took his cue. "Wanna try a different way of getting home today?"

"Shut up! Are you for real?" Alix exclaimed excitedly, clambering to pull her shoes back on.

Marinette held out her fist discretely for Adrien to bump with his, and the model was struck by the familiarity of the gesture.

"Marinette!" Came Alya's voice from the entrance, and the secret heroine waved at her best friend in acknowledgement.

Alix had almost made her way over when Marinette placed her hand on Adrien's shoulder. "If the offer still stands, I'm free tomorrow afternoon."

She was giving him a look that he was quite certain he'd never seen before. It was nervous, but her lips were forming a coy smile that was so much different than the broad grin he was accustomed to.

He found himself returning the smile. "I'll save you a seat."

Friday afternoon, Marinette handed Adrien his red helmet back along with her phone number so they could coordinate their rides for the rest of the school year. If she wasn't available, she was his key wing woman to find someone who was. Nearly every single classmate had taken a turn riding along with him, but Marinette was still his favorite cohort, a fact Nino was quick to point out.

"Dude, you've got it baaaaaaaaaad," Nino drawled through the headset as Adrien sped the bespectacled boy home.

"What are you talking about?" Adrien demanded, taking the next turn rather sharply and forcing the boy behind him to focus on maintaining his balance.

"Marinette, bro! You practically whisk her away every chance you get!" His laughter rang through the headset, and the model suddenly found it very difficult to pay attention to the road ahead.

"It's not like that, " Adrien protested, coming to a stop a the traffic light. "We're just becoming really good friends. She's a lot of fun to hang out with."

"Dude, I'm a lot of fun to hang out with, and I don't see you making goo-goo eyes at me," Nino shot back, holding on to Adrien's shoulders as the blond shot through the green light.

"I do not make eyes at Marinette," the blond bit out, coming to a rather abrupt halt outside Nino's townhome.

"Goo-goo eyes," his friend corrected, taking off the red helmet and locking it to the bike. "And dude, we may not be in Egypt, but you're sure swimming in denial." And with that, Nino moved his hat back to his head and walked away, leaving Adrien at a loss for words.

The Parisian hero continued to mull Nino's statements over the next week, a fact the girl in question was quick to notice.

"Something on your mind?" Marinette murmured into the helmet microphone, laying her head atop his shoulder to peer out into the mid-afternoon traffic. It was drizzling slightly, mist clinging to the edges of the sidewalks as people hurried to and from the various awnings overhead. A shiver ran up Adrien's spine, though from her proximity or the chill in the air or the deep way her concern resonated in his chest he didn't know. But the model was becoming suspicious that Nino might have a point.

"It's nothing, Mari."