Who Are We || Adrienette

Marinette looked up from her notes on Sociology to the chalkboard. Uuugh her scribbly writing seemed so disorganized compared to Mrs. Bustier's neat outline. The silently turning clock was nearing the end of the period but for some reason she found her eyes gazing at the back of a head.

Adrien's head. Her crush's head. The back of his head was the most beautiful back of anyone's head she had ever seen. Perfect golden hair in that messy-but-neat look that drove her crazy.

Alya bumped Marinette's elbow and tilted her head urgently towards Mrs. Bustier. A pounding in her chest, Marinette quickly glanced and saw everyone in the room looking at her like they were expecting her to answer a question.

"It's ok if you don't know Marinette, but I can't keep the class waiting..." Mrs. Bustier said, tapping her chin with a pencil.

"Um....." Marinette began, looking down at her notes for a clue.