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Marinette was staring out the window, chin resting on her fist, watching the grey clouds pour out water over the streets of Paris. The world was an odd mix of blur and detail through the raindrops smattering the glass, and the low lamp light outside faded into a haze.
“Bugaboo,” Adrien said, dipping his head toward her as he leaned over the counter. “I asked if you wanted garlic powder on our asparagus?” His face held a smirk, and his tone was playful.
Blinking, Marinette sat up straighter on the bar stool within their kitchen. Her brows dipped together at first, as if sussing out the sounds she’d just heard, deep within her mind, and then she gave him a sheepish smile in return. “Sorry Adri, garlic where, again?”
“On our -”
Screams interrupted him. His back went straight and taut as they both looked to the small t.v. that existed on the front of their fridge. It was on the news station 24/7, so that they’d have the best chance of catching on to akumatizations. Which… apparently, there was one.
“Ah, man,” Adrien whined, looking forlorn at his efforts on the stove. “Mari, what d’you say? Let’s just stay inside today… Hawk Moth’s successor is -”
“Messy. I know,” Marinette sighed, looking at Adrien with an empathetic smile. “I know, but whoever got akumatized doesn’t deserve to be left to his devices just because he’s relatively harmless… hm?”
“It’s raining. I made you asparagus,” Adrien said, pouting out his lower lip.
Marinette grinned as she slid off her stool and came around to press Adrien back against the counter with her hips, simultaneously reaching for the stove dial to turn it off. He was already flushing pink, and she’d yet to do anything but look at him with big, blue eyes.
“Come on, Chat… I know you don’t like to get wet,” she began, lifting his chin - unnecessarily due to their height difference - with gentle fingers. “But I’ll give my kitty a nice little back rub when we get back.” Adrien melted as she brought her other hand up to scratch lightly at his scalp, behind his ear. “Be a good boy? For me?”
With hooded eyes, Adrien nodded, like he’d been dipped in syrup, and then leaned down, pressing his nose to hers. “What else would I be, m’lady?”