"Felix..."
"I got this Marientte."
"...Erm, but Felix...."
"I got it."
Marinette squirmed beside him, grimacing. Felix ignored her, eyes narrowed, set on his task, experimenting with this stitch. A challenge Bustier proposed, of students trying a chosen partner's other talents, interest, or skills.
Marinette has done well enough, able to hold a decent game of chess against Felix.
But Felix was actually struggling.
And Marinette was cringing beside him she was getting tempted to rip the cloth from the blond's grasp and show him how to really stitch two pieces of cloth together.
Not that the blond noticed, locked on succeeding.
Or what he thought was succeeding.
He withdrew when he made the final stitch, satisfied. "There," he bid, pleased with what he made. He turned to Marinette, pleased. "I think I did satisfactory with how little I knew."
"Yeeep," Marinette agreed, eyes locked on the horrible stitching, stitching that was too far in between each other, stitching that wasn't straight and neat and was so obvious it hurt to look at and
"What."
She blinked, looking up to see Felix grimacing down at her.
"What?" she echoed.
"You're pursing your lips," Felix stated.
She gave him an odd look. "What?"
"You do that when you're creatively displeased. What is it?"
Huh, she didn't know she did that. Shaking her head, she tried to ease, "It's fine, it's fine..." she trailed at the flat look Felix gave her. Caving, she said, "Your stitching is horrible. The spaces between them are too broad, this is going to wind up tearing apart with the slightest tug and-"
Felix stared as Marinette listed off all the issues with his stitching and how he wrong he evidently was.
He watched with a slight huff as she simply pulled the two clothes before her and started to rework the stitch, explaining it as she fixed it.
Apparently he needed lots more practice.
