Art Credit: Azeensart on Twitter
(n.) The French word for 'daffodil'
A daffodil is a yellow flower that blooms in the spring.
Daffodil symbolizes regard and chivalry. It is indicative of rebirth, new beginnings, and eternal life. It also symbolises unrequited love.
(Y/N) (L/N)'s P.O.V.
2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.
"Huh?" I groggily stare at the screen, having been woken up by a strange text from an unknown number. It takes me a second longer to realise there's another text right above the one I just read.
This is Nathalie Sancoeur. I am texting to inform you that a tour, requested by Adrien Agreste, has been scheduled.
I shoot up from my bed with my eyes blown wide. It doesn't take seconds for me to jump out of the bed, my sudden shift jolts Seven awake from her nap.
"What?" She asks. My hand flies to my mouth in a panic, suppressing an incoming screech. Seconds later, another text pops up on my screen.
Let me know if this time is convenient for you. If not, we will schedule another day.
I wipe a drop of sweat from my brow from smashing my keyboard with my fingers.
Yes, of course, that day is perfectly fine.
I appreciate you clearing his busy schedule and giving him time for a tour.
Will be looking forward to cooperating with you.
The way I so quickly slam my finger on the send button causes Seven to send me with a questioning gaze as her eyes scan to read the previous texts.
She raises her tiny arms to her cheeks in shock.
"You've gotta be kidding me..."
"Uh-huh..." It takes moments before both of us screech into the pillow before composing ourselves. Then, another notification ring makes me snatch my phone off the covers.
Alright. I will be sending the details for the plan later.
Remember. Saturday. 2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.
Don't be late.
I quickly send a confirming response and toss myself back onto the bed. A flustered noise leaves my throat and I dive into the covers once more.
This is happening.
Seven pounces up and hovers towards the wall calendar, tapping onto the date mentioned.
"Oh." She tilts her head. "That's three days from now..."
"Wait, what?" I double-check my calendar on my phone and Seven is right.
My chest constricts in dread yet again, leading me to smack my forehead in dismay.
"Crap, this is a total disaster! I'm not a tour guide. I don't know how a tour works! Heck, I don't even know how a date goes!"
"So, this is a date now?" Seven snickers at my poor choice of words. My face burns hot at that, her words lead me to glare at the Kwami who dones an insinuating smirk on her miniature face.
"Of course, it isn't!" I huff in embarrassment, crossing my arms with a pout.
"Whatever you say, (Y/N)..."
"I know what I need to do. I just need some backup!" I state, swiping my contacts in a flash.
"What's cookin', good lookin'?
Planning a tour for a boy who's probably seen all the Seven Wonders of the world is pressuring, to say the least.
Marinette and Alya screeched into the phone when I told her I was going sightseeing with Adrien.
The next few nights, I stay intending to hatch a plan with Adrien. It's not like I wasn't already sleep-deprived anyway.
In the end, I consulted both my best friends and came up with a fool-proof plan.
Step one—get him a gift.
Every flower has a different meaning to the beholder. Although not everything needs meanings, I just like to believe everything has a meaning that I can decipher. Some things I can bring life to.
Daffodils are considered one of the heralds of spring.
The flower is associated with the Greek legend of Narcissus, who stooped down to look into a pool of water because he was so fixated on his reflection. Unfortunately, he fell into the water and drowned. Where he died is where the Narcissus plant emerged.
Although I admit, it's tragic and short-lived for the fabled origin of a flower, nonetheless, his beauty remained in the flowers that I now carry in my arms.
Oh, how much I used to obsess over these flowers. First, because of Narcissus, of course. Now, they remind me of him, the beautiful yellow and white flowers that burst out in the spring.
To me, daffodils mean new beginnings, the bloom after the winter frost. He reminded me of daffodils because he came into my life when I was coming out of a terrible feat. Also, he's blonde and predominantly wears white like the clueless, oblivious angel he is. It just suits him.
They also symbolise a love that cannot be returned.
So, of course, it reminded me of him. I stare down at the bunch of beautiful double daffodils with adoration. Having double blooms, with a ruffled appearance, I peered into the perianths astounded by the beauty.
I begged my mother to get them for me because she was sceptical about my order, eventually having to tell her the truth and I've never seen her place an order with such speed that she nearly broke her keyboard.
Since they arrived just this morning, the bunch had an untouched fragrance to them. It was pure, yet mild, heady floral with sweet and green nuances.
I spare them another short glance with the daffodils before placing them on the back of my bike.
I hope he likes them.
Step two—wear something nice.
"Wear something comfortable," Alya suggested, rummaging through my closet as Marinette applied her facial cream on my skin.
So this is what it felt like. To be a normal girl, doing normal things, feeling typical emotions like having a crush. It all felt so surreal. I couldn't help but turn stiff, having never done this before. It was enlightening.
"Since it's not a 'date'..." Marinette said as she side-eyed Alya who quipped likewise, making me elbow her knee.
"I heard that..." I flushed like a tomato under her gaze, "It's not like you weren't in the hangout stage with Luka either!" I say to which it's now Marinette's turn to gape.
"I rest my case."
"Date or not," Alya pulled out my favourite pair of white jeans and a few blouses, "You need to convince Nanny and Miss Assistant Lady that you're a certified tour guide."
"And how is wearing jeans going to do that?"
"Behold the power of fashion!" And so, Marinette used her remarkable fashion expertise to combine outfits for me.
I smile at the memory. I'll have to make up to them later, already thinking of things I want to do with them as thanks.
So it was decided. A pair of my favourite white jeans and a floral blouse that ruffled on the sleeve.
'Simple, yet regal.' is what Marinette conferred.
Step three—meet up someplace discreet.
We're talking about a fashion model, the son of THE Gabriel Agreste, known for locking his son up for years on end. I cannot mess up now! Especially when it's his first time out doing anything remotely model-esque in his schedule in a while. I had to be cautious.
I asked Nathalie to get him to have at least some form of disguise and drop him off close to Parc des Buttes-Chaumont. So that the tour doesn't get interrupted by fans galore. Everyone goes crazy for Agreste.
We can't have him distracted when I take him around to show him the true essence of Paris. What it can be without all the filtered spectacle of stardom.
To show him what he's missing.
Because everyone deserves to be freed from their cages and let out into the great outdoors of life, to put it metaphorically.
From a distance, I spot his familiar limo driving past the streets. He's early.
My brain stops for a second, anxiety tugging at my chest, piercing my head with thoughts of failure and worst of all rejection.
Calm down, (Y/N).
I breathe, letting out a huge grin as the car stops a few feet in front of me.
I stop myself, gaping at his attire. There are times when I'm painfully reminded of how he's a model because...
My breath hitches at the sight of Adrien Agreste, walking out, with a bucket hat and a pair of sunglasses in a casual buttoned-up cream white shirt and russet brown pants.
The whole fit makes him look like he's showstopping streetwear. The shirt hugs his figure, almost too well in fact, showing off his underlying biceps that gloriously stretch with the fabric-
"(Y/N)!" I snap out of my thoughts at his giddy greeting. He walks up to me and hugs me tightly to which my brain circuits even more.
I close my eyes into his arms, warm and soft, feeling a slight familiarity. How comforting he felt.
"It's good to see you, (Y/N)..." He says into my ear so softly, that I get shivers all over me as we release from the hug and I look into his merry green eyes.
"It's nice to see you here too, Adrien, for the long-awaited tour."
Step four—be yourself.
"I like the hat. Ooh, fashionable glasses." I smirk when he pouts.
"Wouldn't want to ruin this perfect afternoon because of my fans." He says regretfully to which I sympathise, looking at his slight frown.
"Of course not. I like you better with the glasses on anyway." I tease. His lips pout in a humourous motion, and I can't help but laugh.
I chuckle, reaching behind me to grab the bunch of daffodils.
"These are for you." I hand them over to him, "Complimentary welcome to the tour." I wink playfully.
He gasps softly at the sight of them, looking at them with tender fondness.
"Daffodils..." His tone sounds almost strange at first but he smiles at them, offering a small whiff before ending in a delighted gaze. "My mother loved them."
My heart swells at that, happy that maybe the flowers brought out an old happy memory even though it must be hard to remember her at this moment.
"I'm glad she did," I say, slightly flushed from his sunshine smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you again, Miss (Y/N)." Nathalie greets me from the phone screen that Adrien's bodyguard holds up to my level.
"The pleasure's all mine."
"I regret to inform you that I cannot be present for the tour as we had agreed upon due to some last-minute appointments." She says stoically calm, as I nod my head in understanding.
Thank you, Marinette.
I don't know how she did it, but she pulled through.
"That's alright. I will be able to proceed with the tour smoothly. You don't need to worry about it."
"His bodyguard will be close behind him to prevent any unpredictable mishaps, in case of fans or an Akuma attack. Am I clear?"
"Crystal." I cheek up. She lists out a few other instructions to me and Adrien before ending the call.
"Alright! Who's ready for a tour?" I say turning to Adrien and then to his bodyguard who walks to the car to open the door for Adrien. I puff my chest to regain my confidence for the next procedure.
Step five—get rid of the Nanny.
"Imagine. You, Adrien AND the Nanny?" Alex shook her head in tremors. "That's the worse third-wheeling robot I've ever heard of."
Apart from the fact that I had to reiterate the fact that it was NOT a date, there would be NO third-wheeling, it is true that if Adrien's bodyguard stuck around, it would ruin most of the fun that I had planned for him.
I promised to show him the authenticity of Paris, without restraints and to forget about his profession for once.
Hence, the plan is set.
I place a hand over Adrien's shoulder before giving him a signal to which he looks confused. The Nanny looks at us expectantly to enter the car. I feign confusion, turning to him and Adrien.
"Oh! I'm sorry if you've been misinformed." I say to the larger man. "We're supposed to take the tour on the bike. It is a bike tour, as stated in the itinerary."
The bodyguard makes a sound that indicates how confused he is as he looks at Adrien.
"O-Oh." Adrien gets the hint, "Oh. Yes, didn't Nathalie inform you of this?"
He shakes his head.
"I can call her to confirm this, but I can only imagine how busy she is right now..." I ponder as if I was.
"How about we do this? We can bike to our locations and you can watch close by, as we agreed on the form! Your presence may draw attention to Adrien's fans because you are his well-known bodyguard."
Before he can process that, I hop onto my bike.
"Sounds good?" I gesture for Adrien to get on. He does so, placing his hands on my shoulder.
The bodyguard grunts in confusion which I misconstrue as confirmation.
"Alright! Now that's settled. On with the tour!" I say and we speed off on the bike, with his daffodils on the bike basket in front of us. We watch as the bodyguard enters the limo disoriented and follows behind us.
"Was this really a bike tour?" Adrien asks as he's unable to hold in his excitement.
"It is now," I state, matter-of-factly and we both giggle as we ride into the distance. We turn to wave at his limo trailing us behind.
I exhale the breath I was holding for a while now.
"At least, we won't be under his nose all the time," I say as bike into the pavement.
"Give or take; third stop, his radar will be all over the place," I say, turning a corner as we enter one of Paris' park areas and our view opens to a crowded spot.
Adrien unconsciously digs his fingers into my shoulder before relaxing again, his anxiety evident from the way his body stiffens.
Laughter surrounds us in the streets of Paris. I can finally feel his shoulders loosen. From the side view mirror attached to my bike, I see his eyes wander into the scenery of children running in the street playing with their friends, and watchful mothers and fathers chatting up on the benches, dogs sprinting to their owners. It's peaceful and domestic. The sight almost makes me nostalgic as I haven't been out to explore for a long time now, it feels so natural.
Gradually as we ride on, Adrien relaxes a little.
"You okay there, Adrien?"
"Yeah..." He clears his throat to mask his anxiety, "I've just...never done this before."
I purse my lips at that.
It must be absurd for him. All his life drowned in a cage that even enjoying a bike ride across Paris felt out of balance. At least, now he's free from something.
"I feel rebellious for some reason."
I feel a soft smile tug on my lips when his tone calms and then my resolve strengthens.
"That's the idea," I say, heading for our first destination.
"Ready for an adventure, Agreste?" I ask playfully as we bike across into a sea of pigeons ahead of us, our arrival making them fly into the air.
Step six—give Adrien Agreste the time of his life.
And so we transverse into the City of Lights.
For courtesy's sake, I take him around the city showing him different monuments of Paris as the Nanny is carefully tracking our steps. Paris is truly filled with a beautiful history that one should explore.
I first take him into Parc des Buttes-Chaumont through the railway bridge and almost immediately, we're surrounded by towering trees and greenery. Adrien and I awe at the sights of birds flocking above us as I retell him about the history of the park which I had read about the night prior.
Adrien follows around excitedly like the sheltered boy he is, taking in all the little details I put in here and there like he's scouring Paris in a new light. He flinches every now and then when people walk past out of habit. It must be weird not to be recognised when he's been in the spotlight all his life.
Coming out of the park, we take a long ride across the city as I tell him about the different galleries and coffee spots we cross, stopping on occasion.
We circle Place Vendôme past Place de la Concorde as I tell him about all the times my mother and I raced each other as we waited to watch the white marble of the pillar shine in the ever-glowing sunset.
Taking a small detour into the street, we stop at a small open-to-all street art show where an artist showcases his portraits of women and abstract paintings, themed dark and mysterious. My eyes are drawn to one painting in particular. It's a depiction of a woman whose eyes are covered by hands that emerge from out of the frame in hues of red. It's ominous, unclear whether the hands are her own or someone else's. Ironically, the painting is labelled as 'the eyes are the window to the soul'.
"It makes you think, doesn't it?" I don't notice Adrien's presence until he speaks up to which I squint my eyes as if it'll make me understand the painting more.
"The artist knows how to make you feel," I say to him in a solemn tone and after, we spent a few moments giving our thoughts about the exhibition.
We cross Pont des Arts to reach the Panthéon and then loop into Jardin du Luxembourg, into the gardens where we rest on the grass and recall all the sights we've seen thus far.
Just like that passes nearly an hour of goofing off into the history of Paris, sharing crepes and an ice-cream shake from the street shops and merely escaping from the paparazzi, we enter the open street where we spot street performers.
The sky darkens a tad bit and I turn to my watch.
I check back on Adrien's bodyguard who's been in close distance of us all day before abruptly turning my bike and pedalling straight to our next destination, hoping we're not late.
"One last stop," I say playfully as we reach the edge of the Seine where a crowd forms over the edge. We hop off the bike and I urge a very confused Adrien to follow me into the gathering.
"I got us these." I whip out two tickets to the Seine river boat cruise and wiggle my eyebrows at him.
"Come on," I pull him to the entry booth of the river as I punch in our tickets for the Seine cruise. Adrien signals his bodyguard to meet us at the other end of the ride, much to the chaos.
The boat is pretty crowded with tourists and citizens alike.
"Over here..." Adrien follows me into the other side of the boat where it's a little more closed off than the other deck. There are not many onlookers and the perfect place to watch the water in peace. Since we're pretty much secluded on our side of the boat, Adrien takes off his sunglasses and awes at the view of the Seine from our angle.
I clench my fist nervously as he watches the water. "I'm kind of embarrassed that I couldn't be more of a tour guide to you as I promised. Not so adventurous as I hoped."
"What? Are you kidding? This was so fun! Believe me, anywhere other than being locked up at home is more than adventurous to me." He assures, "Besides, I've learnt a lot about Paris today...the people around, the places and the music. It's more than a place."
"It's an essence." I finish and he nods wholeheartedly. The waves move against the boat as we move further into the river.
We enjoy each other's presence in cosy silence, listening to the ambience of the waves and the distant bustling of the people in the streets. I listen to the way he breathes, as I imagine he's doing mine. It's oddly pleasant.
A few minutes into the ride, our boat crosses Musée d'Orsay and into one of the Paris Plages.
Adrien seems a little too quiet for a moment. He inhales in heavily at one point which makes me look at him. He's staring at something off the river and I follow his line of sight to see what he's entranced over.
My eyes widen slightly.
It's a sight of lovers on the bank of the river, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. It's pleasant scenery, one that might invoke the onlooker to think of their lover. Sadly, I didn't have one. Yet, I can't imagine what Adrien must be thinking.
A tense atmosphere settles around us.
"O-Oh..." I look back at Adrien's conflicted expression, "Paris' isn't the 'City of Love' for nothing." I regret making the comment as soon as it leaves my mouth.
"Yeah, that's right." He shifts uncomfortably and turns away from the scene, seemingly in deep thought. I smack myself mentally at that, deciding to give him some peace. He probably has a lot in his mind and needs some alone time.
A few moments of silence later, he nudges me softly.
"Have you...ever been in love, (Y/N)?"
I whip my head in his direction, baffled.
I blink twice, trying to search for some clarity in his question.
I'm staring and searching into the eyes of the boy I like. How do I even respond to that? Is this a test of some sort? Does he know about my feelings? Adrien is the most oblivious person I've met. Of course, he doesn't know.
Am I finally to tell him that from the time I met him, I've been attracted to him?
I gulp at the thought of that.
While my brain wracks to find the right answer to his rather perplexing question, I notice how the atmosphere changes as he sighs deeply, turning it rather melancholic because really I don't know the answer.
Well, at least there was a time when I thought I did.
Adrien overlooks the whole city with glazed eyes like he's seeing but not discerning where he is. He's serious about this.
I feel the urge to say something but nothing comes out for a moment until he looks at me. I sigh.
"I'm not sure."
My answer makes him look at me quizzically as if he didn't expect it.
"Though I think I know what falling in love should feel like," I articulate, pressing my palms into my shoulders to cross my arms.
"How so?" He looks at me pryingly to which I panic, cowering slightly at his emerald gaze which searches within me.
"Well, I've read books, watched a lot of romance movies, and listened to love songs...but nothing can compare to having seen love with my own eyes."
I pause for a second, realising how dumb I must sound to him.
"I don't know." I shrug amused at myself right now.
"It's stupid." I huff, looking into the distant horizon to avoid his mindful gaze and to also calm my pacing heart. I can't help but want to spill my guts to him. I don't want to scare him off.
"No, it's not."
Adrien clasps his hand on my arm. I gasp at his sudden movement, turning to him in surprise as he looks at me, his eyes burning for me to go on.
At that moment, I allow myself to confide in him, feeling safe.
"I saw how my parents loved each other and how pure their love was once, how every morning the first thing my mom would do was make hot breakfast for me and my pops. She would kiss him with flour all over her apron so tenderly and my dad would rub pancake batter off her eyelashes with the softest look in his eyes like she was the only woman in the world. It was like they were the only ones in the room and no one could take them apart." My heart swoons at that memory.
Although I did feel pukish seeing them like that at the time, I still think about it. It had been long since I'd seen my mother ever that happy. My old house, the forest behind and all my childhood memories; all locked away with the thoughts of my father. I miss that feeling of being content. Oh, how quickly it was snatched away from me.
"Then I saw how love turned into something devastating and I lost hope for a while. I thought they would stay together forever like they said they would."
I remember the screaming, the crying, the smashing of porcelain. I wonder when it all went wrong. This loving household that I was brought into just suddenly crashed into nothing.
"They didn't even think to try, well, they couldn't because they realised what tied them together wasn't love. Not anymore. They were too different. My idea of love was shattered and I hated it. I thought that if love was going to hurt in the end, I didn't need it, that I'd rather never love than get hurt. Well, I still believe that to some extent."
I realised it's more complicated than that.
"Love is malleable. Sometimes things just don't work out. Sometimes love wears off if you don't keep on giving. It's all a giving game in the end." I scoff. "They were tired of giving so much for something that was eating them away. So, instead, they gave up."
I don't blame them anymore for what happened. In the end, they were two separate people with different principles. It was something that they didn't see at first because of their predisposed ideas of each other.
"Love makes you vulnerable. It blinds you and casts shadows against your judgement. It makes you want to surrender, to be selfish, to protect and destroy. It's unquenchable but it's pure." I pause, exhaling the tension in my shoulders.
"There's a beauty in love. It awakens a part of you that cannot be revived otherwise. It makes you want to become the best version of yourself for someone else and that's ravishing. It should be all-consuming yet comforting, it should be giving yet also given to you." I say sighingly as I stretch my arms above my head.
"That's what I think anyway. A year ago, I'd call myself crazy thinking that." I chuckle.
Maybe seeing others love is what changed me. I see the people around the street and the Paris atmosphere. I see how Alya and Nino look at each other, how Marinette loves so easily and I wonder if I can love like that. I'm scared I won't be able to. It's so much of a desire that it scares me.
"So, yeah. I don't think I'm in love. But better now than never, I guess." I conclude, looking at Adrien before turning stiff.
I realise that he hasn't said a word since I started rambling about the embarrassing topic. I've said too much.
There's something in his eyes that I can't quite decipher. His expression looks pained. Is he upset? My face heats up and I place my hand over my lips.
"Oh, sorry. Wait, I didn't mean to ramble on-"
"Hey, no, it wasn't all that much. Trust me." He reassures me, "I love listening to your ideas, every second of it."
My heart squeezes at his loving expression, his words soothing me more than I'd admit.
"Aw, jeez. This is embarrassing." I cover my face to hide my red face as he laughs.
"I guess I like your idea of love." He says, looking over the river as cool air falls on his face. "It's refreshing and something I've been waiting to talk about. I don't get to talk to a lot of people about it." He says in acquiesce.
"What about you then, Adrien? What is your idea of love?" I ask, watching gears grinding inside his head.
"I think...love is a sacrifice. It's something that makes you want to grab the first glimpse of feeling it. I know it sounds reckless but that's what my father did." A soft smile spreads across his face, overflowing with sentimentality. "You wouldn't believe the person my father was before my mother disappeared."
I can feel the uncertainty in the pause as he looks at me sheepishly. Without thought, I place a hand over his arm. I want him to feel secure.
"Adrien. You don't have to tell me if you don't feel like it. I understand. Just know that I'll be here to listen to your woes as you have mine." I smile timidly at him.
For a moment, his eyes shine downcasted, but then he sighs, reaching to grip the railing.
His breath exhumes into the cold air as does his hesitation.
"When she disappeared, my dad was so heartbroken. He wouldn't talk to anyone, let alone to me, for a long time. I was devastated. At first, I didn't understand. He blamed himself so much that he didn't look at me for months like he didn't want to see me because I reminded him of her so much. For a long time, I thought I was the problem, that she disappeared because of me."
I tighten my grip on his shoulder.
"I was so angry at myself and him because I couldn't forgive him for abandoning me at first. Then, this overwhelming guilt would always crush me whenever I'd feel like I was moving on."
My chest contracts at the devastating expression on his face as he retells his misery.
How much sorrow he's filled with.
"But then I remembered what she told me." He pulls himself, "En amour, on pardonne. Vivre sans haine jour le jour."
In love, we forgive. Live without hatred day by day.
"That's what keeps me going. It helps me not take things for granted. Every moment I have with my family and friends might be my last and I want to spend it all without regrets." He says cheeks painted crimson with his eyes at me.
Warmth creeps over my chest at the way his eyes light up talking about his mother, endearingly.
"That's wonderful, Adrien. Your mother must've been so kind."
"She was...I wish she was here with us right now. I want her to see what kind of person father and I've become." My heart breaks at his downtrodden face as his lips droop into a deep frown.
"You know what I think?" I grin at him, "I believe she's still here, right in front of me."
His lips waver a little as he's unable to form words.
"I see her in you, Adrien. I always did wonder what she's like sometimes...because she's the reason you've grown so strong. I'm proud of you. I can't thank her or your father enough for raising you to be the friend I know...Adrien Agreste who's the kindest and coolest person I know and also a model extraordinaire~" We share a hearty laugh at that.
"I wish I could meet her someday..."
I feel some accomplishment seeing his frown lift from his face.
"Thank you for that, (Y/N). I appreciate it."
"And thank you, Adrien...for listening to me too."
Our eyes meet in fervour as silence take over. His piercing gaze feels suffocating yet I can't seem to get enough of it.
The moment ends as quickly as it comes as my phone rings. I secretly thank it as the intense atmosphere drops. I don't know what I would've done in the heat of the moment.
"Oh..." I wither, "We should probably head back..." I say in a silent murmur which he did hear. He frowns softly but nods as we make our way to the limo parked a few streets ahead of us.
I escort Adrien to the door as he plucks the bunch of daffodils from my bike basket. I open the car door for him.
"I wish...this day could last forever." Adrien turns to me solemnly.
"Thank you so much for showing me what Paris truly is like." He says, placing a hand over mine which is on top of the car door. It takes my breath away.
My heart paces in disarray as his eyes look into mine, sincere yet solemn. I just want to hold him forever.
"I know, Adrien." I whisper, "Who said this was the end?"
He quirks up at that.
"There's a lot of other places that we can visit together next time." I quip, matter-of-factly. "Although, I don't know the chances of us ever meeting again after the stunt we pulled earlier."
"You promise?" His eyes glow like a puppy dog. My eyes crinkle tenderly at his request. "Promise."
"See you soon then, (Y/N)." He says as he enters the car and closes the door.
Adrien's bodyguard starts the car as the two of us share a fond look over each other. His emerald eyes peer into mine like everything made sense within them. He closes his eyes and sniffs the daffodils delicately.
"You know," He begins. "I'm also glad you're here. (Y/N) Brodeur, who's so resilient, compassionate and the most genuine person I know. Anyone would be lucky to have you."
I can feel it, my heart blossoming release as I stare into his emerald green eyes speechlessly.
Before the car drives off, it takes all my courage to lean into the window and place a soft kiss on his cheek.
"See you, Adrien," I whisper into his ear before stepping back and watching as the car drives off.
I stand there in disbelief before descending to the ground and burying my face in my arms and knees.
"Congratulations." Seven quips from behind me, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" She teases but my words don't form, my mouth feeling dry as sandpaper. I can feel my heartbeat in my ears which burn fervently like I'm on a fever.
What am I to do with you?
I grumble at myself, raising myself slowly. My knees wobble as I stand from my position.
"I didn't even get to see his reaction..." I whine, facepalming myself in reckless terror, turning to my bike so that I can speed home and scream into my pillow.
"Oh." I stop in my tracks as my eyes spot something on the ground.
A single daffodil had fallen to the ground. I reach to pick it up, feeling my face fall at the sight of it.
Well, of course, he reminded me of daffodils.
End Chapter. :)
This chapter ain't perfect, but it'll do. hehe.