A/N: A fanfic for a friend who's going through a breakup. You know who you are.

Adrien would not admit it, but he was starving.

Not in the sense that he was going to die, no - it was just that apparently he was gaining weight because he'd eaten too many sweets the last time Marinette had brought cakes to a school party, and while that was at least a month behind them, apparently that still gave his father and his dietician permission to reduce his meals.

Drastically.

He sighed as he felt the pit in his stomach grow, sitting down dejectedly and softly letting down his bag. He relished in putting his elbows on the table and cupping his chin, not in the mood to give off an angelic vibe.

He visibly lit up when Nino waked in humming a remix he'd made, the pair sharing a grin as Nino slid into his seat.

"You're looking down, bro," Nino sympathized immediately. "Tell me what's up."

"The sky," he replied dryly, stretching out across the table. Nino smirked.

"No, what's actually happening."

"I'm stretching."

"Bro."

Adrien threw up his hands. "Apparently I'm still on an anorexic diet!" He vented. "It's been a month since the party where I had a slice of cake already and they're still not feeding me even a little bit more! And don't even get me started on the dietician!" He groaned and planted his face on the table.

Nino patted his friend sympathetically. "I would bring you food, but my parents would get suspicious that your old man was starving you." Adrien nodded.

"I get it." he grumbled, tapping the table. He noticed Marinette dash in and hop into the seat behind him, marking the beginning of class... and what would probably be a really hard day, considering he was working off of no breakfast.

He sighed and prepared himself for what would probably be a really long day.

For a moment, he thought he'd made it. He'd managed to get through the day without anyone asking him about why he seemed so upset, or why he looked hungry, and he'd managed to hide the un-model-like grumblings from his stomach.

That is, until he got up from his seat and smelled what smelled like an entire bakery pass him, leaving behind the tantalizing scent of croissants and macaroons.

GGGGRRR

She - Marinette - swung around and stared at him owlishly with those big, blue eyes, and he instinctively covered his stomach. Thank goodness Chloe hadn't been there to hear that - she'd be on top of him in a moment, pulling him to one of those accursed 'fancy restaurants' that were the only ones that 'satisfied my Adrikin's needs'.

He stared back at her sheepishly, waving her off, but no, she stormed towards him. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing until she grabbed his hand.

"You're hungry." It wasn't a question, but a statement, pure fact. Nothing, he realized, nothing shook Marinette from her goals when she put her mind to it.

That's part of the reason he didn't resist when she started dragging him along; the other reason was that she smelled like chocolate muffins and frosting. Why Alya was catcalling he had no idea, but he decisively ignored it in favour of asking Marinette where they were going.

"My bakery," she stated simply, walking faster.

He was vaguely glad her house wasn't that far away. She pulled the door open for him, and he went inside, nodding politely to her. She followed quickly, rushing behind the counter and messing with a few things before pulling out a small box. She smashed it down in front of him with a look that oozed determination.

"This was going to be for completing the project I had with Alya, but she'll understand, so eat up." She opened up what must have been the gates to heaven, as the immortal smell of treats - frosted treats - touched his senses. "They're called frosted puffs if you end up liking them." With that, she stormed up the stairs which led inevitably to her room and disappeared so he could appreciate the food in peace.

He grinned helplessly at the irresistible pile of sweets and picked up a pink one gently, admiring it for just a moment before it was quickly eaten. He couldn't help it; he took another. He was on his third when Marinette came back.

She looked down at the basket, then at him. Then she inquired blatantly, "If you're shy about eating them, don't be. You deserve to have them, so don't hold back on them."

'No, I'm just appreciating them,' was what he was going to say, but he was cut off halfway through by a curt "Lies!" and dragged up to her room, basket of frosted puffs in hand.

The last time he'd been in here, it had been during the gaming tournament, when he'd visited for practice. Now, it was largely the same, but there was another set of pictures of Marinette and her friends. I'm there too, he thought with a thrill at seeing his face on the walls. His smile only grew when she pulled up a chair and threw him into it, then placed a table to one side of him and placing the basket delicately on it.

"You seem determined to pamper me, Marinette," he smiled shyly, "but you really don't have to, I'm fine-"

"On a scale of one to ten," she replied curtly, "fine ranks as a one."

He had no further arguments. He instead made the most of his pampering by eating some more frosted puffs.

He woke up with a start. How long had he been there? He glanced out the window and sighed in relief when he saw the sun still shining.

Good, father won't have noticed my absence, and Gorilla's too scared to say he didn't pick me up from school to tell him. Sorry, Gorilla!

Stretching himself out, he glanced down to the table at one side of him, which had a short note explaining Marinette had had to take over shop duty and would be back soon enough. He chuckled fondly at her kindness and got up, glancing around.

It was at that moment he noticed the dress on the mannequin.

He'd known that she wanted to be a designer like his father (much to his chagrin), but the design on the mannequin struck him as being... inspired.

By Chat Noir.

By him.

He approached it with a gleeful smile, gently touching it, inspecting the dress. It was when he got a closer look at the zipper on the back that he was certain. The zipper, instead of the regular piece of metal, was a small version of his staff.

He felt an electric thrill go through his body and quickly shook it off. No, he definitely shouldn't be tampering with her designs. He leaped back and instead satisfied himself with even more puffs.

He then looked at her bed. He knew that it looks so soft and comfy was probably not the first thing he should be thinking when he strode towards it, but it was. He promised himself he'd only do this for a moment when he collapsed onto it, but for some reason the room went foggy and he felt himself melting into the sheets.

He would later claim that the bed of heaven claimed him before he could refuse.

It was rather embarrassing being woken up and listening to Marinette assure his father that he 'ate nothing' while he was there. He was in the limousine waving goodbye far too soon in his opinion, but he had no choice.

He could have sworn he saw her mouth the words 'come back if you get hungry', and he desperately hoped that was not his imagination running away with him.

He walked past Marinette the next morning, and automatically he began to say, "Good morning, p-"

Ohshit you're not Chat Noir abort abort ABORT-

"-puff!"

Better than nothing, doof.

"G-good morning," she stuttered back. He heard Alya catcalling again and rolled his eyes, walking away to his Physics class.

Today was okay.

"Girl, spill."

"I might have fed him the frosted puffs recipe..."

Adrien stared down at his bag next to his seat.

More specifically, down at the small black sprite which glared at him relentlessly from within it, two green eyes striking daggers into him.

He smiled sheepishly.

"...you'll get triple camembert?"

"Better get quadruple if you expect me to forgive you today."