"I can't believe he wasn't there. What a fool, doesn't turn up for his own party." Maya mumbled as she watched her best friend leaning on the counter absolutely miserable. All hope shattered after last night.

"Wasn't meant to be." She answered, before straightening up. There was work to do after all.

After the dinner, the hope to see him again was non-existing. He was rich, good looking and so clearly not interested in an average girl like her. She was surprised they sat through all of the dinner, even though they both enjoyed themselves and she looked back at the memory with fondness. He was a nice guy deep down, she was so sure of it. He was just broken, and nobody ever cared to help him heal. They all tried to fix him, but that doesn't work. Pierre needed support while helping himself. Not a magical treatment which would close all wounds. Seal them forever.

It had been Maya, who told her that she could simply reach out to the Frenchman and DM him if he wasn't interested in her, his loss but that way she might at least get her booklet back, but the older one had protested that he surely wasn't interested and even if he was, what was she supposed to say. It was destined to fall apart. Maya had accepted it back then, not wanting her best friend to get hurt by some player, who was fucking models as other rich people played gold.

A few long weeks of hard work passed, and Maya noticed one of her best friends' sketches on a t-shirt worn by a certain Frenchman during her break. The older one nearly dropped the chocolate sculpture she was working on as her best friend came running inside squealing like a little kid in excitement before shoving the phone under her nose.

"It's yours. Your Chameleon designs. That has to mean something." Raising an eyebrow at her best friend without saying something the younger one backed off a few steps with an apologising look only to watch the older one exhale slowly before she moved back to sculpture a dragon.

She had said she didn't want to talk about it anymore and Maya had promised to respect that, but she wouldn't be her best friend if she watched on as luck and happiness slipped through her fingers, so she sent Pierre's post to her best friend before both of them went back to work.

It was late very late, her sleeping schedule all over the place as always as doubts and worry crept back into her skin. Normally she would reach for her booklet now, but it wasn't with her. Pierre Gasly had it, wherever he was on this world right now. Tossing and turning some more, she reached for her phone only to look at the post Maya had sent her.

It really looked like her design, and she was pretty sure he had her booklet but did it mean something? Reading the caption, she had to laugh. He used something she had used in one of her notes. Quasimodo heart. Nobody else was crazy enough to think something like that up, so late at night, she slipped into his DMs and texted him.

"Hey, manwhore. I think you have something that belongs to me."

The moment she had sent it, she threw her phone to the side and tried to find enough peace so sleep would pull her under. She expected an answer, something, anything, but there was never an answer, which she accepted after calling herself a fool.

One more text was sent upon him wearing the elephant shirt and another as she found the car design on his helmet, but he never answered her. Then the use of her designs stopped, and she tried to move on.

Until Red Bull called and asked for her services again, causing hope at seeing him once more to bloom in her chest again, only to be shattered once more last night.

"Do you want to do the chameleon that was ordered or the chandelier?" Maya asked already on her way into the back of the shop where all the magic happened which was separated from the selling desk where one of their many employees was talking with an old lady.

"I'll never make another Chameleon in my life." The one-year-older muttered, before picking up her cup of coffee from the counter and making a long sip.

"Well, then we get a problem because since we posted the video of it on Instagram everyone wants one," Maya said, while her best friend exhaled slowly, dragged out and tiredly. She knew that the other one didn't get all that much sleep last night. Not after coming back absolutely heartbroken while calling herself a fool for even believing that there could be anything.

She had made the Chameleon and posted the video after she couldn't take it any longer, waiting for Pierre's answer and work always distracted her nicely. In the end, he never saw it and it was in vain.

"I will make the Chameleon then," Maya said kindly while squeezing her best friend's arm. Deep down regretting she had asked her to collect some autographs, but who could have known how it all would work out in the end? Maya had no clue. She would have never asked for anything if she would have known about the sorrow which would follow them after taking that order.

The younger one moved into the rear part of their shop, while her best friend leaned against the wall behind the counter. In her left hand a tiny bright red cup of coffee which was held against her lips and in the other the equally as bright and tiny saucer.

Her eyes moved through the shop. There was a big display case to her left with a cash desk on the far end. The counter she was standing at was long with a small space to walk through at the side, before the second display case and another cash desk started to the leftover to the door. The rest of the little pastry shop was filled with desks and chairs which were standing on the white small-meshed tiled floor. It was a beautiful shop with a workshop in the back at least three times the size.

Putting the coffee down, she leaned on the counter a little bit while she started to sketch a chandelier. Playing around with the shapes and the design for a bit, while resting her face in her hand, drawing with the other. She looked up as the tiny belly at the door ringed out notifying them of a customer, but the moment she saw the man who stepped through the door, she dropped her pencil totally stunned, while he looked through the shop until his eyes landed on her and his lost look morphed into a smile.

His smile seemed to wake her up, causing her to straighten up and move through the space in between the counter only to hurry over to him.

"Oh, thank god." She let out, her expression surprised and speechless, but there was nothing to be said not now, not at that moment, not when Pierre reached out to take her cheeks in both of his hands, her own hands holding onto him shortly after his wrists, to keep him there, willing him to never again disappear like that as Pierre pulled her into a kiss, a kiss she followed only to gingerly.

The kisses were sweet and short, neither of them able to stop grinning which made kissing more complicated than thought, but Pierre didn't care. Not for a single moment when they smiled against each other. Capturing her lips again, she felt the happiness in his body upon seeing her again which almost caused her to start crying. Her eyes already shining with tears, but she was relieved. The Relieve of finally having each other. No longer doomed to search.

Resting his forehead against hers for a moment, there were so many things he wanted to ask her, so many things he wanted to demand to know, but only one question came over his lips.

"Your name," Pierre muttered. "Will you tell me your name, please?" Smiling while she tiddled her head a bit despite his still holding her cheeks, her glance was overly amused and soon Pierre learned why.

"Katharina. My name is Katharina." She said, causing Pierre's face to fall for a moment.

"Like my ex?" He asked without thinking, shocked over the realisation which caused her to laugh delighted. Katharina didn't care for such profanities.

"Oh, I'm sure my parents are terribly sorry for it. They should have considered renaming me." She told him and Pierre couldn't stop himself from kissing her witty lips.

"It's okay." He told her. "We will find a nickname for you."

Pierre's smile fell slowly, as he brushed his fingers gently over her cheek. He couldn't believe he was looking at her. At Katharina. It felt strange to finally have a name to the face he knew for so many months already.

"Why haven't you reached out to me?" Pierre asked her, the disappointment clear in his eyes.

"I did." She claimed, misery hanging all around her suddenly, as she pulled back from Pierre, who let his hands fall back to his side, not saying a word, as he watched her walk over to the counter, bewitched to follow her there, too afraid that she would vanish every moment now, that he was just dreaming.

Katharina showed him her phone, her DMs, her chat with him. She had texted him, a few times even, but he had never answered, not once and not once had he noticed her in his DMs. Not believing what he was seeing, he reached out to take her phone from her, having a closer look.

"I thought I misread your hints. I thought you weren't answering." Katharina told him, causing Pierre to look up from her phone instantly, before putting it down on the counter which was now between them, due to her having to move behind it to get her phone.

Reaching out his hand cupping the back of her head, he pulled her over the counter to kiss her. "Never again. I swear." Pierre muttered. "I thought you didn't want me to find you meanwhile, it was all my fault. I overlooked what I was looking for. I was searching for you, Katharina."

"Who doesn't want a manwhore?" She muttered against Pierre's lips to break the tension of the moment, it didn't matter any longer, he had found her, found her way to her, causing him to shake his head fondly at her.

"I am sorry to inform you that I am no longer one," Pierre told her, her forehead leaning against his temple as they murmured to each other.

"What five hours and a notebook can do," Katharina muttered, her voice melodic and bright.