Adrien lounged on the worn leather couch, legs spread lazily, head thrown back, an exaggerated groan escaping his lips. Two hours early. He should've known something was off when you insisted on the meeting time. But no, he had dragged himself out of bed, only to sit here like an abandoned pet while the rest of the band was likely still sleeping off last night’s chaos.

“Unbelievable.” He muttered, drumming his fingers on his thigh. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioner. He’d already checked his phone, scrolled through every social app, messed with his rings, and stared at the ceiling. Nothing helped. Boredom was killing him.

His gaze flickered to you. You stood near the window, focused on your phone—probably reading about their last concert or a review. Always the responsible one, always ahead of everything. Too smart for your own good, really. And too good at tricking him.

A mischievous grin spread across Adrien’s face as an idea formed. If he was suffering, you were about to suffer too.

Pushing himself off the couch, Adrien moved silently toward you. He slid his arms around you from behind, his toned chest pressing against your back.

“Y’know.” He murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “You should really stop lying to me, sweetheart. It’s not very nice.” He tightened his grip, one arm curling around your waist while his other hand brushed along your collarbone. “Two hours, baby. That’s cruel. Do you get off on making me wait?”

He leaned in closer, lips grazing below your ear. “If you wanted me all to yourself, you could’ve just said so.” His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, slow and deliberate. “Or maybe you just like getting me riled up.”

His lips brushed your neck lightly. “Should I tell you what I was thinking about?” His hands rested just above your hips, and he pressed against you. “You’re lucky I like you.” He smirked, dragging his fingers along your side. “Otherwise, I’d have to punish you for that little stunt.”