Lila sat comfortably in the nurse's clinic, her posture relaxed, her expression the picture of calm. The bandage on her ankle—tightly wrapped at her own insistence—was more symbolic than necessary. The nurse, with her gentle voice and experienced hands, had confirmed it was only a minor sprain. Just as Lila had anticipated.
She wasn't one to waste an opportunity. Every sympathetic glance, every soft-spoken word of concern, was fuel. This incident, trivial as it seemed, was already becoming a carefully placed brick in the foundation she was building.
Still... her mind drifted back to the moment just before the clinic.
The fall.
The impact.
And the sudden warmth of Adrien's arms.
There had been no hesitation in him—no awkward fumbling, no awkward questions. He'd simply picked her up and lifted her without a second thought, as if it were instinctual. He'd carried her like it meant something.
Her fingers idly traced the edge of the blanket draped over her lap. That moment could have been embarrassing. Instead, it had felt... effective.
She let the image play through her mind again: the shock in his eyes when she yelped, the way his arms had tightened around her, the concern etched into his expression. The seed was planted.
And now it was time to nurture it.
Outside the clinic, Adrien paced, his heart thudding with a jittery excitement he hadn't felt in months. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his thoughts tumbling faster than he could process.
"She basically fell into my arms, Plagg," he whispered, unable to hold back his grin.
Plagg floated beside him, arms crossed, wearing an expression that could only be described as aggressively unimpressed.
"Oh, well in that case, forget destiny. Just take her to the Eiffel Tower and propose already."
Adrien laughed. "I'm serious. It was—like something out of a movie. She tried to stand, winced, and then—bam—she was in my arms."
"Sure, because nothing says romance like minor ligament trauma," Plagg muttered. "You're one slow-motion soundtrack away from losing all self-respect."
Adrien leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "It wasn't just the fall. It was the way she looked at me. Like I wasn't Adrien Agreste. Just... someone who showed up when she needed help."
Plagg gave a long, theatrical sigh. "And you ate that right up, didn't you?"
"She doesn't know who I am. I mean, not really. It's refreshing."
"Or strategic," Plagg said flatly. "She's either the most innocent girl in Paris or she's playing 4D chess with your emotions."
Adrien hesitated.
"...You don't think she's faking it?"
Plagg floated a lazy circle in front of him. "I think she's cute, clever, and knows exactly what kind of puppy-dog eyes make you turn into romantic soup. But hey—don't let my lifelong expertise in watching humans lie to each other get in the way of your rom-com fantasy."
Adrien frowned, but it faded quickly. "I'm just saying... maybe this could be real. Normal. She didn't treat me like a celebrity. That has to count for something."
Plagg rolled his eyes. "It counts for a plot twist waiting to happen. Just don't forget who you are while you're trying to be someone else."
Adrien nodded slowly. "Yeah... okay. I'll keep my head on straight."
"Miraculous," Plagg muttered. "A miracle, more like."
Adrien pushed open the clinic door. Lila looked up at once, her expression shifting just enough to show mild relief, with a touch of brightness that appeared natural—effortless.
But beneath her carefully neutral smile, her mind clicked into motion.
He came back.
Good.
"Feeling better?" Adrien asked as he walked over.
She nodded, voice sweet and measured. "Much better. Thanks to you."
He sat beside her cot, closer this time. She didn't lean in, didn't do anything overt. Subtlety was key. She let him fill the silence, watching how his gaze lingered on her ankle, then flicked up to her face. He was trying not to stare, and failing.
She saw it.
He wasn't falling in love. Not yet.
But something was there.
A curiosity. A warmth. The beginning of emotional attachment.
That was what she could work with.
It would take precision—no overplaying her hand, no dramatic scenes or sudden declarations. No, she'd build it piece by piece. Gratitude. Softness. Mutual trust. All carefully orchestrated until the line between manipulation and affection blurred for him completely.
And when he fell in love, it would feel like his idea. His choice.
Just as planned.
The nurse glanced over with a quiet smile as Adrien helped adjust the blanket on Lila's legs. She observed the young model with a look of recognition—there was something boyish in the way he hovered, something vulnerable. Genuine.
But Lila barely registered the nurse anymore. She was already focusing on her next step.
"Would you... walk me to the headmaster's office?" she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty, like someone reluctant to be a burden.
Adrien lit up instantly. "Of course. I don't mind."
Lila tilted her head ever so slightly, her voice soft. "That's really sweet of you..."
The rest of the sentence was left hanging—on purpose.
And just like that, another piece fell into place.