Chapter Text
"Chat," says Marinette – her voice soft and ambient, part of the room, nearly pitch black now, illuminated by the dull glow of static on the television. There are long shadows on the walls from the furniture.
Adrien remembers first that Marinette was asleep, a quarter way through "Tales from Beyond;" she doesn't snore, not quite, but her breathing is deeper when she's asleep and it can be heard. Her head against the sofa arm, her legs across his lap. He remembers that, he doesn't know that he'll ever be able to forget it, would never want to anyway. Who would have thought? Marinette …
Adrien remembers second that he can't remember the ending of the movie. He goes to rub his eyes, yawns. There's a blanket draped over his head, enveloping him, he feels like he's three years old again, pretending to be a ghost.
"Chat," whispers Marinette, again, "you have to go."
"Five more minutes," he says, pulling the blanket closer to him. He's sitting up still - he fell asleep that way - but now he sways to the other sofa arm, his head lands on it with a dull, soft thud.
"No, Chat," Marinette insists, "now," she says it with such pleading sincerity that it worries him, and then she pushes his thigh with her foot, trying to jostle him awake, "I think your disguise…" she trails off.
And Adrien stills, he runs his hand over the pocket of his hoody and he can feel Plagg there, a bump in the material, probably still asleep.
"Oh," says Adrien, bolting back up, his head snaps to Marinette, and he peaks out from under cover, she's got blankets clutched over her head too, hiding.
"Yeah," comes her muffled reply. Adrien brushes his blankets off quickly, feels his face for a mask which isn't there and his heartbeat starts racing before he's got a chance to calm it down. Marinette won't peak because she's honest and good, and knowing this helps. A wayward thought strikes him that he's not sure he would mind if Marinette knew … but then he thinks of Ladybug; he wants her to be the first one to know his identity. Marinette is important to Chat, but Ladybug, whoever ladybug is, she's the one that captivates Adrien.
Even that is a bit of a lie; Marinette is important to Adrien, too. Everyday he is a little more amazed by her, it's unfair to think that she's anything less than one of his closer friends, even when they're only together as Marinette and Chat Noir. After all, Chat is as much Adrien as Adrien is Chat, they're not mutually exclusive.
"I guess I should go," says Adrien, standing, stretching, walking around the couch. He folds his blanket into a square and throws it over the sofa's back. Marinette also sits up, but she keeps the blanket firmly in place.
"I," she says, hesitates, "I'm glad you came over, I had a good time." There's a smile in her voice that Adrien can hear which catches him off guard with its utter innocence. And so Adrien does something that surprises them both. He lifts the blanket up over her head, sets it beside her, she's ramrod, staring forward, more worried for his sake than he is and her hair is static-y and sticking up haphazardly due in part to that, and the added help of having fallen asleep.
It's the static that causes the small shock on his lips and her cheek when he kisses her. It's such an unexpected surprise that he laughs and so does she, which is for the best, he thinks; it makes him feel better about the action – makes him feel like he doesn't have to apologize.
"Thank you, princess," he grins. And, not sure what exactly he's thankful for, he disappears out the door.
Marinette is red faced, straight backed, it takes everything in her not to turn around, to get a glimpse of who Chat is, every muscle is screaming with the strain of it. When the door clicks against the dead silence she relaxes, flops into the back of the couch, her cheek still tingling, and thinks the impossible might be happening: she might be falling for Chat Noir.