Miss Dial

Protective

Adrien

Adrien's phone continued to buzz in his pocket as he waited in line at the little café on the edge of Central Park. Could she not just leave it for at least a couple of days? It was quite obvious Mr Unknown was ghosting her considering he hadn't replied to any of the hundred messages she'd sent the day before. Most women by now would have given up and moved on. But nope! Not Miss Dial, Miss Mighty Dupain-Cheng.

The line began to move and he stepped forward, closer to the front of the counter; his phone continued to buzz against his thigh. What could she possibly have to say now? Was it just a text to let him know she'd seen a squirrel and basically state that 'no, not all squirrels land like superheroes'.

Another minute passed and at least two more buzzes.

Fine, he thought, you win.

Pulling the phone from his pocket, Adrien raised an eyebrow at the amount he'd received. She was either missing him that much, or writing more to his 'girlfriend' as she sat by his side — day in and day out — during his unfortunate coma. He snorted as he remembered the screw you message from the previous day.

"Can I help you?"

Before he could tap the first of the messages, he was called up to the kiosk. His phone forgotten as he looked up at the menu.

Placing it back in his jacket pocket, Adrien stepped up to the counter and placed their order. Two coffees to go — six sugars included. His main aim for the next hour or so was to speak to Marinette and sort out whatever this was between them. To try and get to the bottom of why her view of him was so different to everyone else's.

The conversation with Félix the previous day had been eye opening to say the least. Apparently the relationship he thought he had with Marinette was not the same as she thought she had with him. Félix laughed and said he was glad he'd made the mistake with the numbers that maybe this mess could finally put to rest and the two could 'get along'.

Though Adrien wasn't entirely convinced the texting came from a mix up of numbers. Afterall the woman who was interested in taking the cockerel out of his hands wasn't called Marina as Félix tried to sell to him, her name was actually Sophie. Suspicious? He thought so. His cousin really was a dipshit!

But Félix was something he'd need to deal with when he was back in London, right now, his priority was to sort out whatever animosity Marinette held towards him; along with making sure he doesn't get her fired in the meantime. The only way to be clear about that would be to ignore the messages — no messages equaled no evidence. Simple. If only she'd get the hint and stop sending more through.

"You're Adrien Agreste," the woman behind the counter stated. Adrien welcomed the comment with his usual model (fake) smile. She moved, around the unit, polystyrene cups in hands as she completed his order; every now and then looking back at him over her shoulder and doing that freaky eye fluttering some girls threw at him.

"Yes, I am." He smiled, tapped his card to the machine to pay for the drinks and prayed the conversation would end there. As much as he was friendly to fans or people who'd recognised him, his head was far too scrambled at the moment to be involved in polite conversation.

Instead, he pulled his phone out and took the opportunity to look 'busy'... and check the messages from Miss Dial.

Miss Dial (6:12am): There's this guy looking at me.

Miss Dial (6:13am): Question: If it looks like someone is making their way towards you should you run straight away or wait to see if they are just going to ask you for directions?