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Adrien never considered himself the type of person who needed excessive attention. In reality, the attention he wanted wasn’t what he used to receive. Because of his career as a model, sometimes having people always watching him and obsessing over him was not always something dear to him.
However, he was becoming increasingly unaccustomed to this while he visited Marinette's house.
There were really good times when the two spent hours talking and spending time together, like two friends glued to each other. So, when the girl was busy doing important things, Chat Noir couldn’t control his desire to have his friend's attention turned to him.
It was selfish, he knew. But part of him was managing to silence his rational conscience, especially at that moment when the baker’s daughter was busy with the math homework ― something Adrien had done earlier and much faster than her. That's why he was lying on her comfortable bed, watching quietly her endeavor.
It was visible how much Marinette was getting tired. For her expressions and constantly frowning, those numbers were almost in Ancient Greek. As a hero, he was supposed to save her from the terrible journey of numerals. Yes, completely right.
The problem was that Chat Noir had absolutely no idea how to do this. It wasn't just taking the book out of her hands and keeping her from reaching it. He wasn’t a dog. Although it would definitely be funny if the girl told Miss. Bustier that “Chat Noir interrupted her homework.”
Jokes aside, he should draw attention in a simple and fun way, something that would invite her to join in the moment of relaxation.
The boy started to turn around on the bed, looking for a good position to be able to think better. He turned from side to side until he leaned on the bed rail, temporarily turning his attention to the panoramic view of the room. Her bed was definitely better than his. It might have a lower quality than the expensive mattress that had been purchased for the boy’s room, but it was more comfortable to be in.
I should position myself better beforeeeee..., the inevitable ended up happening before the blonde finished the thought.
Marinette was soon interrupted from her algebraic nightmare with a loud thump beside her, with the hero falling straight to the floor. Defying the normal concepts of falling cats, the hero practically landed by doing a handstand for two whole seconds before finishing falling with his back to her and with his legs in the air.
“Why are you this way?,” asked the friend after a sigh.
Despite not seeing her, he was sure he could hear a chuckle.
“Let's say I'm head over heels for attention,” Chat Noir replied when she approached him, crouching down to watch him better. “Cool view?”
“I'm just impressed how you can be a dork standing on your feet and upside down,” said Marinette, throwing his legs back and ending up lying him down. “I swear I'll take you to the vet someday. It’s not possible that you are entirely sane.”
“I’m not crazy! My mom had tested me. I have a little hyperactivity, that's all...,” he pouted.
“You should help me with my activity. I was barely able to concentrate on class today.”
“Any reason for that?”
In fact, Adrien had noticed his friend's lack of concentration in class. She seemed to be very exhausted and there was something else that was taking her attention away. He wanted to help somehow. Then he saw Marinette's face suddenly turn red and that left him extremely confused.
“He... that boy I like, he had a new jacket today...,” she babbled, embarrassed. “... it looked so good on him...”
Chat Noir thought for a moment, remembering that at lunchtime Luka went to school to bring the lunch that Juleka forgot and was wearing a different coat. Well, he could say it was cool at least.
“... his father told him to use it to promote this month's winter fashion,” the girl continued and started to smile on her own. “Long sleeves, white leather... oh, what a dream!”
Wait a minute. The hero stopped for a while. Luka's father isn’t a stylist. I have a stylist father. I convinced him to let me wear a long sleeve jacket for at least once in my life. Today. A white jacket.
“Hey!,” Chat Noir came across Marinette's forehead while trying to sit up too fast. “O-ouch... hum... this boy you talk about, he wouldn't be the little model boy Adrien Agreste, r-right?”
“He's not a ‘little model boy’, okay? Have more respect,” she replied, massaging her head. “Adrien is a great model and a good guy. He even asked me if I was sleeping well in the past few days because he cares about me. You should aim for it, Chat. Although he is also cool when he tells some jokes... b-but, he’s an entire example of innocence and charm. Chat?”
Adrien could feel his face in a gradient of shades of red. Maybe he really should go to a vet ― or a real doctor ― because there was no way he could get out of that static state in the next few hours, or days.
Marinette liked him.
Poor Plagg, no one of them would sleep properly that night. Marinette liked him. And she definitely liked leather.