Coffee-Kissed Rain

Meet-cute

Marinette's POV:

Marinette's forgot her umbrella again and is running in the rain to catch the bus home. Using her art case as cover from the Torrential rainfall, she runs straight past a man sporting a yellow umbrella, almost taking him out as she does so and proceeds to run down the street towards the bus stop. She's missed her bus home and there's just over an hours wait until the next one is due, so she decides it'd be best to wait out the storm in her favourite café that's just a street away. So holding her art case above her head, she is again, running, as fast as her legs can take her until her feet come to a holt at the café front.

Hearing the chiming of the old strung up golden bell felt to her like she'd opened a door to her own little oasis of warmth and comfort aligned with the welcomed aroma of freshly ground coffee beans to a golden victory bell. She'd made it, safe from the downpour at last! Or at least she would be if she hadn't have brought so much of it in with her.
Droplets of rain run down her cheeks, not a dry patch in sight. She places her art case and coat at her usual spot, that is to the right of the café doors archway, level to the front window, a place of observational comfort and warmth as the radiator below the windowsill reminds her. She then proceeds to walk into the bathroom in an attempt to dry her clothes off using the hand drier and freshen up somewhat, before placing her usual order at the counter of a Ladybug latte 🐞.

She sits down at her table picking up her sketch book and, with a face full of apprehension and one eye closed, she slowly opens it loosening the pages that have been stuck together by raindrops, hoping that her design sketches haven't been soaked beyond comprehension. Luckily for her, the café had its radiators on, and she was situated parallel to one, so she places her sketchbook open pages down onto the radiators surface to dry. Sipping on her Ladybug latte, she waits patiently for the coffee kissed rain contained within the pages of her beloved sketch book to have time to evaporate before fully assessing the damage.

Adrien's POV:

Adrien's had quite the eventful day, sorting through all of his cherished possessions into moving boxes. There was much less that he wanted to take with him than he thought there would be. He had always wondered what it would be like unloading boxes at his own apartment, well technically this was his cousin Felix's two bedroom flat but that was a minor detail, and also the only reason that his father allowed him to live anywhere outside of the mansion in the first place, so Adrien was happy. And after all of that sorting and lifting he thought he deserved a break and so decided to take a walk, to help familiarise himself with the place he'd be living in from now on, not forgetting his trusty yellow umbrella as it looked as though it just might rain.

After a few minutes of walking the Parisian high Streets, Adrien's prediction came true as rain began pouring out from seemingly undamp clouds. He put his umbrella up, and as he did so caught a glimpse of something vaguely familiar, that of a girl running in the rain without an umbrella to hand. Now if you asked him why that sight made his heart flutter he couldn't tell you, but it did none the less.
As he was walking Adrien chanced upon a coffee shop, and seeing that the rain wasn't about to let up any time soon, he entered. Placing down his umbrella, he was still practically bone dry, apart from a few stray droplets that had escaped the shielding of his umbrella, consequently landing on his forearm and shoulders.

After mulling over the drinks menu and deciding what to order, he sat down at a table to the left of the café front and awaited the arrival of his mint iced coffee and toasted tea cake. As the café door chimed for a second time, he didn't think to avert his gaze to see who had entered mire minutes after him, he was too immersed in his comfortingly warm tea cake to notice.

By the time he'd finished his delicious treat and iced beverage, he'd decided that this café had just earned a new regular. He figured it'd be a handy place to go when he wanted peace to work on his photography project, it also helped that it was so near to where he'd be living from now on.

Having dabbed his mouth clean with a napkin, he stood up readying himself to leave. But as he walked to the doorway he found a girl, with no raincoat nor umbrella stood in the doorframe about to be drenched in rain. So plopping his now open umbrella atop her shoulders, he decided he couldn't get absolutely drenched running the length back to the apartment, and so without looking back, he sprinted off into the Parisian rainfall feeling satisfied that he'd done the kind thing. She'd needed it more than him.

Marinette's POV:

Marinette placed her now empty latte cup to the side and reached out her hand anticipatingly towards the radiator where her sketchbook lay drying, dreading the possibility of all the designs she'd worked so hard on now being reduced to nothing more than muddy splodges on a page. She began begrudgingly separating each page one by one, each time breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of the untarnished sketches. She was thankful that the cover was the only part made unrecognisable, she could always try to fix it by adding some paper and sticky back plastic, as an attempt of making it more water resistant later.

Checking the time, she realised there would be another bus arriving in a few minutes, long enough to give her time to get to the bus stop, hopefully this time without almost knocking some poor soul over. As she packed her things away and walked towards the doorway, she found herself wishing that the rain had stopped, or at least that she'd remembered to take an umbrella. She didn't want to chance getting her designs soaked again and ruined by the rain for real this time. So she stood in the doorframe, placing her art case above her head as cover for a third time that evening, readying herself to make a run for it.

Just as she closed her eyes and exited into the rainfall she felt something placed atop her shoulder blade and the soft touch of a hand brush against hers for a mier moment, before she knew it she found herself remarkably dry, under the cover of a yellow umbrella with the figure of a boy rushing past her. Realising that he'd given up his umbrella for her, she raised herself atop her tiptoes and let out a loud yet shy "Thank you" that was almost lost to the sound of the rainfall. Although she had no idea who it was that had done her this great service, she would never forget this seemingly small gesture, nor the blondness of his hair as he ran out into the contrastingly dark, cobblestoned street. He had done the kind thing, and to a stranger non the less, a stranger who had now a restored belief in the kindness and good nature of strangers, a stranger that although having no prior knowledge of him, would never forget him or his kindness.