Chapter 8

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Adrien

Their ride back home was just as cruelly short as their trip to school that morning. Adrien's dreams of watching the sunset together were squashed as well. It was a little early in the day for the sun to set, and Marinette politely declined his proposal to stop along the way and wait for it. Too much homework and too many responsibilities, she claimed. Perhaps some other time, she said. Adrien didn't despair. That meant there would be other rides. All he had to do was ask for them. His lady did hint to him that her Marinette-self, though not willing to get into a relationship with him yet, liked him enough already to not be able to resist him most of the time.

"Thank you so much, Adrien," Marinette said, disembarking his bike as they pulled by the bakery. "You really saved me this morning."

"It was my pleasure." Adrien took his helmet off, putting his best smile forward. "I can save you any day you want. Every Thursday, for example. Or any other day you're going to school and back alone."

Her lips parting, Marinette stared at him in bewilderment, looking away a moment later. "Adrien, I—"

"Oh good, you haven't left yet!" Tom's voice thundered from the bakery's entrance. "Your friend told us you don't have any plans tonight, Adrien. So, why don't you join us for dinner? As a thank you for helping our Marinette."

"Papa!" Marinette glared her father's way. "You can't just invite people over like that. Adrien's probably—"

"Why not?" Tom frowned. "We've always invited your friends to stay for dinner. Or is Adrien not your friend?"

"Of course, he's my friend, Papa!"

"Then why can't I invite him over?"

"Because he already wasted a lot of his time on me today."

"Is that true?" Tom turned to Adrien. "Was the time you spent with my daughter today a waste?"

Adrien shook his head, chuckling. "Not at all. I enjoyed every moment of her company."

"See?" Tom patted Marinette's shoulder, nudging her in the bakery's direction. "Let's go, Adrien. I've been waiting all day for this."

"For what? Embarrassing me?" Marinette grumbled, refusing to budge.

"Not at all, sweetheart." Tom laughed. "All I want is to lure this young man in, lower his defences with your mother's food, and pry out all the information I need to know. That's all. You don't mind, Adrien, do you?"

"Not at all, sir... um, Tom." Adrien quickly corrected under the man's glare. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have."

"Good!" Tom nodded and waved them in. "Let's not waste any more time then. I was already setting the table when I heard you pull up." He vanished into the bakery, not even waiting for a reply.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Adrien said as soon as they were alone. "I can come up with an excuse to leave if you want."

Marinette shook her head, her lips pursued. "If I do that, Papa will never let me live it down, thinking there is more here than there actually is. And he'll still try to have you over any opportunity he can get. Only then you'll be subjected to a potential... boyfriend questioning, and I'm sure both of us would rather avoid that since we barely know each other, and it's hard to even call us friends, lest imagine something more. So, let's just go in there, get through dinner, and forget this ever happened."

"As you wish." Adrien chuckled. He quickly parked his motorcycle and followed his pouty, blushing Lady inside, one thought on his mind: he'd better make a good impression. These people would hopefully become his in-laws, and, prince or not, it was nerve-racking meeting them somewhat officially for the first time in a private setting.

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