Dreams of You

Chapter 3

That is until the blond had the audacity to lean over and whisper in her ear, "Falling for me already, Princess?"

The spell broke as fast as it descended. Marinette quirked an eyebrow, looking him over. Pristine haircut, flawless skin, the whitest teeth she'd ever seen, a cocky smirk on his lips, wide shoulders, slender, fit figure. She could feel his ripped muscles dance under that expensive shirt of his. Typical spoiled rich brat.

"As if I would fall for a pathetic excuse of a man who resorts to literally bringing a girl down for her to pay him a second look."

The expression on his face was priceless. His hold eased, giving Marinette the chance to untangle herself from his embrace. Poor, rich brat. He probably wasn't used to girls not falling at his feet at first sight.  

"Mlle Dupain-Cheng, I presume?" a woman with a stern look at the front of the class called her attention. "First day of classes and not only are you coming in late, but you're also disturbing the class."

"I'm very sorry, madame," Marinette murmured, picking up her bag. "This won't happen again."

"I didn't mean to drop it," the guy whispered, leaning closer. "It slipped my grasp by accident. I'm sorry—"

"M Noir, keep quiet," the professor scolded him. "Some of us are trying to make sense of the course outline. I suggest you join the group."

The blond turned back to his work, an apologetic look on his face, but Marinette wasn't buying it. She had met her fair share of his kind, and spoiled rich boys who played tricks on others for selfish entertainment weren't people she looked to be associated with. Having gone through school with Chloé Bourgeois was enough. So, to make sure the blond got the message loud and clear, Marinette glared at him. Then, without paying him a second thought, she picked up her bag and marched down the aisle to where Alya was motioning her.

"You okay?" her best friend whispered.

"I'll live." Marinette pulled out her tablet. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing much. We've been going through the course outline for the last fifteen minutes."

Mme Mendeleev glanced their way again, her eyebrows narrowed in warning.

"Sorry," Marinette mouthed and turned her attention to the outline in front of her.

At least she tried to because, for some unknown reason, she couldn't get a particular set of green eyes out of her head. A brief moment of eye contact, but it overwhelmed her as nothing ever had before. There was kindness and warmth behind all the cockiness and smugness of his smile. Typical rich, spoiled brat demeanour aside, those eyes belonged to someone immeasurably caring and loving. Someone very affectionate and tender-hearted. Brave but vulnerable. Someone who was protective and harboured a mischievous side under all that polished glamour of his. Someone, she could swear she'd met before, which clearly wasn't the case because there was no way anyone could have forgotten those eyes, even after a single glance.

Marinette shook her head. She didn't have time to muse over it. She had goals to achieve, and thinking of the blond brat in the second row would be the last thing that'd get her there. No matter how pretty his eyes were.

***

The fresh bane of her existence was not listening to the lecture. He kept fidgeting and shifting in his seat. Even worse, he was constantly stealing glances at her, most likely thinking of another prank to pull, but Marinette wasn't a fool. She'd had plenty of practice with Chloé back in school to keep from falling victim to his tricks. He was not winning this.

The clock announced the end of the lecture, and a few girls circled the blond's desk, the brilliance of their smiles lighting the room as they all rushed to introduce themselves. Good. Knowing his kind, he'd most likely engage in the conversation—which M Noir did. And with an easy smile on his face, no less.