(prev. hellcheering)

--

"So we can agree that this is a bad idea, right?"

"Absolutely."

"And that Adrien clearly lost his mind?"

"Definitely."

"Great, so I see no reason why we should go through with it, do you?"

His breath catches for just a second at the passing thought, Is a stunning gold dress a reason? "...Nope."

"Wonderful. Enjoy the party, happy new year, blah blah blah. Later, Red."

As he watches her walk away, Nathaniel immediately wonders if he made the right decision.

For about two seconds. Then he moves on.

--

"That's the last lemon tart."

"Chloé there are a million other desserts on this table."

"But only one lemon tart."

"You can't be serious."

"Give me the lemon tart, Red."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

She looks at him as if he'd just asked what the date was. A purposeful glance at his hair. Back to his eyes. "...You really need me to explain that one to you?"

Seven years apart and she still knows how to get under his skin. She takes a step closer, just barely toeing the line into personal space. "Trust me, Red. You do not want to get between me and something I want."

"It's a lemon tart."

"The only lemon tart."

He's taller than her now, but that doesn't make her glare any less scary. Somehow though, the threat in that bright blue only makes his resolve stronger.

He doesn't even like lemon tarts that much.

But she clearly does.

Holding her glare with a challenge in his own, Nathaniel raises the pastry to his mouth and takes a bite. Rather than the explosive outrage he might have expected, Chloé's eyes narrow in a seething, simmering resentment, and he knows he's just renewed their status as enemies.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Never has he felt so satisfied by a simple dessert.

--

"What?? You can't be serious!"

"That's my line."

Adrien has the audacity to look wounded. "Did you even consider it?"

"Yeah, for like, two seconds. Then we agreed that it was clearly a bad idea."

"Rude."

"Adrien. Seriously. Me and Chloé?"

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "You don't know her like I do. I want you to know her like I do. If you did, you'd understand."

"We just got in a fight over a lemon tart."

"...What?"

"I took the last lemon tart, she demanded to have it, so I ate it in front of her."

Adrien stares at him with a blank look on his face before shrugging and walking away, shaking his head as he mumbles, "I don't know why I set you up on a date; you're already practically married."

--

"Chloé, come on, give it back."

"No, I think I'll keep it."

"It's mine."

"Just like the lemon tart was mine."

"No it wasn't!"

"That's a matter of opinion."

Chloé dangles his bumblebee keychain in front of him teasingly, clearly baiting him to chase.

He does.

Nathaniel weaves through the abandoned tables and chairs littering the outdoor patio with not even half as much grace as her. He follows that devious giggle nonetheless, relentlessly pursues her mischievous smirk, until she finds herself at a dead end.

Or maybe the balcony was the exact destination she had in mind, he realizes as she holds the charm up in the air.

Gasping for air, he stops about a meter away from her. "This is crossing a line."

"An eye for an eye, Red."

"This is more like an eye for a kidney."

"I think that's an over exaggeration."

"It was just a lemon tart."

"It's just a keychain."

"It's…a special keychain,” he says awkwardly.

"Really?" She cradles it in her palm to take a closer look before that impish smile is back. "All the more reason for me to keep it."

Nathaniel darts forward and catches her with an arm around her waist as she tries to run again. She shrieks as he tries to reach for her hand, but the sound is interlaced with a laugh and something about it has a sort of juvenile excitement taking to his chest. He finds himself laughing along with her as Chloé twists to face him and clasps the bumblebee in a fist behind her back.

He captures her hand in his own, and only then realizes he has both his arms around her. Mischievous eyes lock with his from only a breath away. A thundering heart beats against his own. Some instinctual part of him steals a glance at glossy red lips, still curled in that devious smile.

“You got me,” she mocks. “Now what?”

Voice still slightly winded, but calm, “Give it back.”

“No.” She says the word so simply, but something about it melts under his skin, sinks into his bones.

“Why?”

“I told you I’d make you regret it.”

“I regret…” he glances her over, a speck of doubt in his own words, “...nothing.”

Her gaze trails down somewhere below his eyes. “...I might.”

“10! 9! 8!”

Electric blue eyes snap back to him. “We’re missing the countdown,” she warns in a low tone, but she hardly seems to care herself.

“7! 6! 5!”

He only tightens his arms around her, voice dropping to match hers. “I’m not letting you walk away until you give me back my keychain.”

“4! 3!”

“Tell you what,” she says as that devious curl returns to her lips.

“2!”

Cool fingers slide into place at the back of his neck. “I’ll trade you for it.” And she tugs him in.

“1!”

The kiss is so breathtaking it’s stupid. He sinks into it more than he would like to admit, even recaptures her lips for another when it breaks. There’s cheering and popping and clinking in the background, but the first moment of his new year is occupied solely by a stunning gold dress, a challenging blue gaze, and a devious red smirk.

They part slightly winded, but he still doesn’t let her go. “Are you going to give it back now?”

That smile is toying with him and a greater portion of himself than he would like to admit is very okay with that. “I said I’d trade you for it. I never said what for.”

“So that kiss was…?”

Tantalizing words ghosting his ear, she leans in to whisper, “Just for fun.”

A tiny huff of amusement escapes him before he can think to stop it. “So what do you want?”

Chloé takes a moment to look him over, glancing between his eyes in some kind of assessment. Her gaze drops to where her thumb traces his bottom lip. “More,” she eventually decides before looking back up at him. “I’ll give you your keychain back if you go on another date with me.”

“Another?” A slight grin cracks at the corner of his mouth. “Implying this was one?”

“If you want to argue semantics, that’s your problem.” The way she tilts her head all but demands he kiss her again and she knows it. “I’ve stated my terms. Do you accept?”

He’s already leaning in again before he speaks the words against her lips.