A/N: This is one of my very first ML fics I posted on tumblr about…8 months ago? Its decent enough, needs a rewrite, but its worth posting until I catch up with my other stories lol

I always write to improve, so comments and critiques are welcome! Please rip this to bits! Thank you!

I think I'm in love… Marinette reasons to herself on the refined suit in the private box.

The brocade vest is remarkable, a bold deep green with silver patterns; the black gentleman's vest is clean cut with a single button at the center and, dare her eyes deceive her, she can see a light green interior lining that looks particularly fetching; the neck tie shines gold in the light, a shocking bold choice that causes Marinette to cover her mouth as she gapes in wonder.

Gorgeous, handsome, elegant, resplendent— there are not enough words to describe her feelings to see such handiwork. Her open staring should be embarrassing at this point, but Marinette does not care a wit. If she can find a way to address the artisan, her daydreams of working as a designer seem more probable. It is in that moment she is mindful that there is a man wearing the eye-catching attire.

Her first impression of the man works along the lines of "fit" and "a perfect partner". The style of his blond hair is back with wisps escaping into his face, that are suspiciously perfect enough to be purposeful. He his, without a doubt, as handsome as his garments and, considering the tittering females looking in his direction, just as expensive.

Marinette is seized by his countenance, however. He looks miserable. His eyes are stern, yet his face is held in such practice that she surmises the amorous females see a content male in high standing, but Marinette views a sad man, very uncomfortable in this atmosphere. Perhaps, he is shy.

Marinette will not discriminate against his social status and assume he is glad to have money and women clamoring for him. Men can be happy or miserable at any status in life, but it is unfortunate to have it in a venue of cheer.

She looks to the right and regards a brown man in bright red attire, scattered with golden medals. His demeanor is calming and accommodating; it is clear he is use to being the center of attention. Possibly a high commanding officer. He switches between conversations with his despairing friend and another private box across the way. Marinette notices the blond man sink into his seat each time his friend turns.

She feels a pang of sympathy. She cannot stand the clear alienation and wonders if there is something to cheer him up. At that thought, the eyes of the blond man, she realizes they are green, catches her own. There is a spark of life in the contact when he realizes how attentive she looked upon him. She smiles sweetly and points to her cheeks. She makes a show of frowning while pointing in his direction then directing him to change it to a smile. She surmises she looks silly enough to elicit a response and, with satisfaction, the man's mouth moves into a lopsided grin at her antics.

Marinette feels a shiver of pride and pleasure and reckons she wants to see him in full cheer. She stretches her smile wider, gestures towards women looking at his booth, and reenacts a woman swooning and fanning her face if she were to witness such a smile. The man's entire face transforms into such a loud laugh that he must cover his mouth and looks away for a moment to not give the game away.

Marinette's gratification increases to a form of euphoria and flutters in her abdomen. His smile transformed his face to a warm gleam in his eyes and a small dimple on his cheek. She thought him handsome before, but the unadulterated cheer, lighting his face like an unexpected flame, made her spellbound.

The blonde man, Mr. Adrien Agreste, still smiling, looks back at the magical creature that changed his mood in a few moments, and nods in agreement to her gestures. He is overfamiliar with the females he attracts in public and, to be frank, it was rare for him to present an attitude beyond complacent when he conversed with them. If they were to witness some form of interest on his part, there is no doubt they would tumble in jitters.

Adrien stares at the enchanting female, she is applauding him for playing along in their charade, her bright eyes glittering in amusement. He is astounded by the instant connection with a perfect stranger, and yet finds it rare to connect with most mutual acquaintances beyond basic pleasantries.

After father lost his true love when Adrian was young, he was overworked with grief and the maids and tutors were the ones to raise his son. Adrien dreamed of life outside his home, making friends and, eventually, meeting a true love of his own, however, he was quick to realize his notoriety would stem from the preconceptions of his status and his father's popularity as a trend setting designer. Instead of thriving in crowds, he shied away in unease; instead of charming acquaintances to his side, they clamored at him with matchmaking schemes for their daughters or aspiring young men to get ahead in life. It is rare, indeed, for Adrien to witness an expression of sincerity.

It is with that history that Adrien is not surprised that his gaze refuses to look elsewhere.

"What are you laughing about, my friend?" Nino Lahiffe inquires, an expression of curiosity and mischief. Nino is a military man of high standing and, as such, has the observation skills of a vulture.

"Nothing, I am just…" Adrien knows Nino has discovered the intense eye-lock of the female below.

"Oh, a lady, eh? She is beautiful, do I know her?" Nino leans his head farther over the railing and gives the female a small wave. The woman inclines her head in pleasant greetings and smiles in return. Adrien knows Nino has a natural amiable charm with everyone he meets and has never felt threatened or insulted at his unique skills. That is, until this moment.

Adrien dares an unflinching glare at Nino. "Not too soon I hope." Adrien mutters. Nino twists his head in his direction, mouth agape.

"Wow, you fall fast." Nino chuckles at his friend's scarlet features.

He knew Adrien ever since they met at a soiree when they were four-and-ten, neither wanting to attend, and became fast friends making jest at the circus act that is London society. Adrien is not uptight and ambitious on material wealth as other men his age; he has morals and convictions that Nino has admired to this day. He has a jaunty sense of humor that, if realized to his lady fans, would send the ton in a rosy faint. He is a good, sensible man; so it is with surprise that his emotions overran him to snap at his closest companion.

"No, it is, just— I am very aware of your charm, Nino. You are my friend after all." Adrien admits.

"Well, well, a rare compliment, indeed. This lady is a force to be reckoned with. Should we begin plotting an offensive?" Nino urges.

"Now? I—I am not sure…" Adrien's inexperience in these matters made him reel. His confidence felt shocked at the idea of this female wanting to truly meet him. She was courageous, kind, and caught his interest with minimal effort. How will she perceive him accosting her in a public theatre for so simple an act? "I have never introduced myself to an unknown woman. What will she think?"

"Adrien. How else will you meet her? I have never seen you affected by a woman, and lord help me, if I do not pick you up and toss you at her feet myself! Or will forever reminisce on the one who got away and made you purr like a love-starved kitten. " Nino enjoys witnessing this new vision of Adrien, he never has the opportunity to tease him about the opposite sex and will relish the experience.

Adrien tenses at the accusations but, has to admit, his previous reaction of jealously cannot dispute the fact. He is spellbound by his consideration of the lady, so much so that he does not realize the show is beginning until the lights cause him to strain for sight on her.

Adrien exhales a sigh, Nino is correct. "Yes, alright. At intermission."

"A man with a plan, good show!" Nino whispers in earnest.

Marinette stops looking at the blonde male when her mother taps her shoulder at the dimming of the lights. She inquires on her distraction and Marinette laughs. "I have met a kindred spirit in the crowd, is all." She whispers. Her mother simpers at her daughter's affable nature and turns to watch the show. Marinette cannot resist glancing at the blonde male between scenes, however, and swears she can see him returning the sentiment.

The lights awaken for intermission and Marinette realizes she cannot recall most of the play. She looks up at the box and the male is looking right at her. Her face feels flush in excitement. I wonder if he would be willing to speak with me,but her mother pulls her attention away and she loses the opportunity to wonder.

When Adrien catches the immediate glance of his unknown female, he is emboldened to meet her. He rises to leave when the curtain behind him is pulled open and he views a glamorously dressed female with bright blond hair. In that instant, he knows he will not escape.

"Mr. Agreste! What a great pleasure to see you," Chloe Bourgeois exclaims, blocking his path. "I thought us close friends, why was I not informed you were attending the theatre?"

Adrien's London home is the neighbor to the Bourgeois family and their excitable daughter— who has it in her head that they were destined for marriage since their introduction. Her father works in parliament and interacts with Adrien's father, to decorate his daughter in front of them, as often as he can. Chloe is the first example of a females in society that Adrien ever witnessed. At first he convinced himself she was an oddity, in her efforts for attention, but his experiences have disappointingly made her a model figure.

"A pleasure, Miss Bourgeois. I apologize but the decision was quite sudden. I thought you would be busy."Adrien answered in his practiced demeanor. Even if Chloe is not his closest acquaintance, he is surprised she does not asses his distant responses to her advances.

"You know I can spare time for you, Agreste. Never hesitate to invite me, or make a call. How is your father? His designs are the only articles worth wearing in London." Chloe dotes.

"Yes, he is a very busy man."

"That is a new suit designed by him, is it not? How wonderful it looks on you, dear Adr—Agreste." Chloe places her hand on his chest, acting familiar and, he wouldn't put it below her, to warn off females in the crowd as they looked up in the box. He tenses at Chloe's reach outside of propriety using his Christian name. He would not snap at her if she did, but she must know he would think low of her.

"You are too kind." They converse until the end of intermission and Chloe struggles to withdraw to her seat, as they pay no attention to invite her to stay. Adrien searches for the face of the female and she is no longer looking in his direction. Her face is tense, looking towards the stage with no indication of sensing his stare. Adrien is not discouraged. No matter who this woman is, I am determined to know her.

Marinette feels embarrassed. True, she wished for the man to come greet her, she thought a friendship to be fine— but glancing at the casual entrance of the the female and her familiar touch, her feelings came full front. She was unaccustomed to these rush of emotions, it is mortifying; she has no control over her thoughts. Perhaps the female is a friend, but the man's back was turned away and she could not guess his reaction. Marinette decides to be rid of this foolish game she brought upon herself and never turns back to the male for the rest of the show.

Once the show ends, her parents rise from their seats and she tells them she wishes to stay in the theatre for a moment, to appreciate the architecture as visiting the theatre is a rare occasion. This is not an unusual request so, they agree and leave with the crowd. Of course, Marinette is lying. She refuses to see the male who flustered her wits. At best she will nod politely and run away as fast as should could. At worst…well, she has dignity after all.

Adrien and Nino leap from their seats before the end of the show and run down to the theatre lobby. They do not want to risk missing the beautiful woman. The patrons exit the doors and both men stand on the steps to the upper floor to maintain a good view.

"Do you spot her?" Nino asked.

"No," he responds. The female did not make eye contact after intermission, she refused to turn towards him, but Adrien knows that he is enchanted with the female. He would get to know her and, if all goes well, she would come to feel for him.

"There!" Nino calls out, pointing towards the center of the lobby.

"You see her?" Adrien asks.

"Her acquaintances. With haste!" The men nudge through the crowd and end up behind a well dressed couple, the woman leaning her head towards the male.

"Excuse me." Adrien taps the female's shoulder. He introduces himself and Nino and explains that he met their acquaintance before the show began.

"Oh my, what a pleasure! This is my husband Mr. Dupain-Cheng and I am Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. My daughter mentioned making a friend. She was in such high spirits, I wondered who was the mysterious person. She is still in the theatre. We do not visit often so she insisted on admiring the interior."

These are her parents, Adrien thinks, his body flushing. He can see the similarities in the father's calm stance and the woman's kind eyes.

"My friend is most eager to make her acquaintance. Would you mind us continuing our conversation as he goes to fetch her?" Adrien makes a grateful glance at Nino. Nino's face sends a message back that Adrien interprets, 'You better tell me all the details later, or I will force it out of you.'

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng gives a cheerful agreement and Adrien walks to the open doors of the theatre.

Marinette reckons half the patrons left in their carriages and she did not want to make her parents wait too long. Her emotions are slow to fading but she still feels she made a fool of herself acting like a flirting harpy making glances at some unknown man in a private box. What was she thinking? Some fairytale where the middle class, no name female meets the prince of her dreams who happens to find her character "unique" and "unlike any other he's ever met"? She thought herself better than that.

"Good evening."

Marinette jumps, her mind too reproachful to hear incoming steps. She turns in her seat and views the man from the box, just standing two seats away from her. Her throat feels tight and her stomach is fluttering again. His eyes are brighter than she thought and the cut of the attire is even more attractive up close. This will not do, she has to maintain her wits.

"Oh, it's you." she says. If wit meant using words with restraint, I have set a new high standard. Marinette reprimands.

His features turn bashful as he speaks again. "I apologize for being sudden, but I had to thank the woman that brightened my evening more than the cast of professionals that I spent to enjoy."

Marinette feels her tense muscles unwind and she falls for the shy smile on his face. She is laughing, both at her reaction and his rushed overture. " It was my pleasure. But I am sure your immediate company also aided in your recovery?"

Feeling emboldened by her lyrical laughter, he responds, "I fear I must admit, that only one person had the honor of such a task tonight." The man gives a fond smile and sits beside her. Marinette feels her cheeks warm and she looks down at her hands, flattered. "Can you tell me how I was so lucky to receive her attention?"

Marinette looks up at his suit, reminded of her initial reason for looking into the box. "Your garments, in fact. I have never seen something so fine on a person. The design and tailor is quite exquisite. I thought of many grand words to surmise how handsome it is. Lovely, gorgeous, elegant—I even joked to find love at first sight." She rambles. Marinette's passion for fashion bleeds through her tone and it takes her a moment to recall her words. I think I have outed myself as romantically inclined towards clothing. No wonder mother dotes on my future prospects.

The man's face transforms from polite fondness to a mischievous leer. He leans forward, as if to unveil a secret, and Marinette straightens and looks to the side and back, wondering at his sudden casual manner."My lady, I will become too big for my breeches with your flattery. Then where would you find merit?" Adrien remarks.

Marinette refuses to smile, instead purses her lips and touches his chin with her pointer finger to push him away. "I would never compliment a man with such rakish humor."

Adrien rubs his chin. "What about rakish features?"

"Tell me where I can find one and he shall receive it." Marinette jabs.

Adrien laughs in earnest and looks at Marinette with amazement. "In my haste I have forgotten my manners, I am Adrien Agreste. May I ask your name, or have I lost favorable mention?"

Marinette snickers."No, this I can give. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Adrien inclines a small bow. "Well, Miss Dupain-Cheng, as you have such an interest in my attire would you be interested to see more collections by the craftsman? He happens to be a personal acquaintance."

Marinette could want nothing more in this world. "I would be honored! That is, I hate to impose."

"I would consider it the greatest favor to spend another day in your company—" Adrien touches her right hand and lifts it to his mouth, "—my lady."He kisses it lightly, peering at her as her face warms.

"Then how could I refuse." Marinette murmers.