Take Me With You ✓

02 ; a friendship

Marinette's POV

Warmth wraps itself around her as she pushes the door open with her back, and she couldn't help but wonder about that look on his face-uncertain yet trusting.

"Stop treating me like a stranger. Haven't I already told you my name?" She says, eyes focused on the colorful display of treats before looking over her shoulder. He's dazed but, without fail, meets her eyes.

"You're not going to say anything, are you? Fine, then. Pay for whatever I order." That should get him talking, but the attempt makes her slightly nervous, and she feels like breaking into a sweat. She's never displayed that attitude before to anyone but Alya or any of the girls.

"That's not fair!" She couldn't help but snort, and blood rushes to her cheeks as she hides her face from the world because it's that unnecessary defense mechanism she'd do anything to get rid of if she could.

"What's wrong?" Locking eyes with him only made things worse, and she's left to deal with the fully resurfaced blush that never really left in the first place.

She has to ignore that, so instead, she orders a matcha tiramisu and a bottle of sparkling water before paying-nevermind her dare-and running towards an empty table.

<>

She could only watch in thinning patience as he played with his Crème Brûlée. She's finished her order and was contemplating ordering another one because the past ten minutes had been nothing but quiet.

"Aren't you interested in eating? It's five in the afternoon, and you don't look hungry at all."

"I'm actually used to eating late. I live far away, and my job requires me to be on a diet."

"Oh, we should start getting to know each other." All around her are boys from clichés, and she's never met a boy so shy. It's about time she got a change of atmosphere.

"Just some random questions. What's your favorite time of day?"

"That's really random."

"I have this mental list of useless things to ask people I don't know." It was her way of living life, getting to know them without getting too attached.

"Morning, I guess. I live near Montmartre, and the morning's always pretty there."

"Hmm... I live just around here, very near the Eiffel tower. The streets are always loud, but when they're finally silent and the Eiffel tower's lights are off at three in the morning, I just like to stare at the stars."

"That's nice too, I guess. Montmartre at night is also pretty."

"Are we having a contest?" She swallows, discovering a new weakness-viridian doe eyes.

"About what?"

"Which part of Paris is better to live in: the 7th versus the 18th." She's smitten, and it's not even a little bit good for her weak heart.

"Which is better?" For a moment, she's willing to get rid of her nose that was probably as red as Rudolph's because she's practically unable to look at anything but his face, and no force from both heaven and earth seem interested to help her.

"I don't know. Anyways, it's my turn, right?"

"Yeah," she says, finally managing to focus on the idle bottle of water instead.

"Who's your favorite artist?"

"Jagged Stone forever, but I'll always have a personal playlist of songs to cry to." He leans his cheek on his palm, and she decides she has every right to feel flustered at the moment because, damn.

She watches as he grabs his phone from his pocket, answering without bothering to look at the caller's ID before leaning back and sighing like an old and disappointed man.

"Call from a parent? I guess it is getting pretty late. Well, before you leave, I'm inviting you to come to my next performance. It's on Friday at the Salle Gaveau, some seven in the evening," she says with every inch of ego she has left.

He smiles at her before grabbing his bag, and she concludes liking this feeling. There's nothing wrong about it. She shouldn't worry.