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It was a truth universally acknowledged that Marinette could fall in love with Chat Noir. Well, maybe not that much but it was clear to everyone who had seen the damn photo Alya had taken of them and plastered on the Ladyblog.
And if this wasn’t enough, Marinette had more insider information that proved that this was possible, what was more, that it had happened in that alternate timeline. They had been together, they had been in love. And this had ended disastrously for whatever reason. But while she suspected that the end of the world was not directly connected to the fact that they had been together, Marinette still couldn’t figure out what had brought them together in the first place.
What strange thing had happened to make her push aside her worries about secret identities and potential trouble? What was more, what had made her forget the first guy that had stolen her heart and fall into Chat’s waiting arms?
What was the small, missing element that had made it happen? Or was it something big she just couldn’t see or fathom?
She could put up as many walls as she wanted around her heart. She could pretend to not be interested. But the knowledge that it could happen, had happened, drove her crazy and undermined all her efforts.
Of all things, she hadn’t expected that it could be macarons. Sweet, innocent macarons that she had brought on patrol because her partner loved them and she cared enough about him to want to make him happy with little things, there was nothing strange about that.
“It’s a good thing that Hawk Moth doesn’t know what your biggest weakness is,” she noted as she watched him gobble up another one. “He could easily make you give up your Miraculous for enough macarons.”
He shook with silent laughter as he swallowed.
“You don’t have to worry about this as long as you bring the best macarons in Paris on patrol with you. And also, you got it wrong. While I do love macarons, there is one thing, or rather someone, I love more than them.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The carefree and easy-going tone of their teasing disappeared like a macaron melting on the tongue. His eyes were focused on hers and Marinette felt stripped down to her soul.
He had to know how easy it was for his words to disarm her. Or did he if she never let it show? She wasn’t fast enough to deflect, to joke, to make light of the situation this time.
“I’m nowhere near as sweet as macarons,” she said a little too late, her voice too squeaky for her liking.
“I’m sure this is not true.”
Don’t look, don’t look. But of course he did. His eyes fell to her lips and Marinette felt hot all over.
She was human, she had her limits and they had been reached. Because the next thing she knew, she was kissing him.
And there, with the subtle taste of sugar and strawberry and him , she surrendered. She was done fighting, she embraced her fate.
“I was right,” Chat whispered, his eyes sparkling. And then he kissed her again.