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Félix pressed his lips into a thin line of disapproval, when the room burst into laughter during his discreet entrance.
Lately, it felt as though everyone else was privy to a secret concerning him, but his only evidence were the looks the girls exchanged upon noticing him and the fits of giggles accompanying them. He couldn't confront them with such flimsy evidence—they would laugh him out.
No, he needed something concrete. And he knew exactly who would give it to him.
"Marinette, may I talk with you? In private?"
She gave him a tight smile, and nodded.
He waited patiently for her to get out of her seat. He didn't miss the pleading glance she threw at her friends, nor that she leaned back to grab her keyring plushie, which might have been the one Chat Noir gave her for Christmas but also might have not. He couldn't be sure without a closer look.
Marinette followed him into the hallway, her gaze stubbornly fixated on the cheap laminate flooring.
He didn't have to see her to know that. After he'd accidentally called her out on staring, she made it a point not to look at him.
He wasn't sure it was an improvement; but he appreciated her effort nevertheless.
"So, what's up?" She asked cheerfully, a note of nervousness audible in her voice.
"I was wondering…" Félix cleared his throat. "I was wondering what's so funny."
"I'm sorry?"
"Every time I come to the classroom, everyone is laughing." Félix's cheeks heated up with embarrassment. Suddenly, he felt ridiculous for even bringing it up. "I mean, what's up with that?"
Marinette's blush was deeper than his. She shifted uncomfortably on her feet and crossed her arms.
"I'm sorry. It's a secret."
"Does it have anything to do with the flowers you've been leaving in my locker?"
"F-flowers? I know nothing about any flowers!" Yet as she denied it, her blush spread to the tips of her ears and down her neck. Félix asked her with a look if she really wanted to go down that route, and in retaliation, she buried her face in her hands. Peeking through her fingers, she gauged his reaction. "I… you knew it was me?"
"Who else could it be?"
He hadn't known for sure until she confirmed it.
Marinette was the only person he knew who had access to such an assortment of flowers—tiny bouquets of wildflowers, stalks of fresh lavender and hibiscus blossoms; roses of all kinds, sometimes pink, sometimes blue, and on rare occasions, even orchids and camellias. They always brought a smile to his face, a smile he hid behind the door, as it would mar his image to show openly any form of affection. A smile that disappeared when he slammed the door shut.
An echo of the action was just as efficient.
Marinette laughed nervously.
"I guess… I didn't think of that?"
"Obviously," he noted, then flushed uncharacteristically, when her face fell. "I mean! Who else could it be? You're the only one in the school who… Well, I suppose it could've been one of your friends, but then you'd still have a hand in this, because… because… you…”
“Because I part-time in a flower shop,” she finished his sentence lamely.
For a moment, she appeared thoughtful, as if considering something important. Félix tried to guess what it was but came up short, distracted (only momentarily!) by her pout.
“That makes sense,” she muttered, lips curving softly upwards.
Félix wanted to know what was so amusing that she smiled like that. Curiosity tickled his nose like the feather duster she sometimes brought out to tantalize Chat Noir.
Feeling the edges between his two identities blur, Félix decided to abort his reconnaissance mission. He flashed her an awkward smile—a genuine one—and backtracked, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
“You’d tell me if something was up, wouldn’t you?” He felt bad about directing his best kitten eyes at her like that; yet it wasn’t as though she couldn’t resist them. He only wanted to distract her long enough to make his escape. “Sorry. I’ll see you later, alright?”
Marinette caught him by his bag strap, pulling it off his shoulder.
Horrified, she blurted, “How long have you known it was me?”
His confusion intensified. “From the start?”
“Then… Why did you never say that?”
“Because I didn’t want you to stop.” He looked everywhere but at her. Being honest with her as a civilian seemed like a fair trade for keeping his secret identity secret, but it was still difficult. Somehow, her opinion mattered to him. “I… Sometimes you misunderstand me when I try to express my gratitude, and I didn’t want that to happen, so I guess I’ve just been avoiding this topic altogether.”
He straightened his back to counter how small her stare made him feel.
He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair; messed up, it would irritate his father, and that was a pointless risk to take.
He clutched the tip of his pen in his fist, aware of the ink stains it was leaving on his skin. He could wash it off before leaving school.
“So… you’re not upset?”
Félix shook his head at her abrupt question. “No, it… The flowers were pretty.”
Marinette smiled widely. “I’m glad!”
“Thank you.”
He liked seeing her happy like that, so when her face fell, his heart did, too.
Marinette swayed back and forth on her feet, indecisive; he could only assume it had to do with the secret of their entire class.
He stepped closer, still in curiosity’s hold, and whispered against her ear, “Can you tell me more about the circumstances that made you start leaving flowers to me?”
Marinette didn’t shy away, though based on her crimson face, she probably wanted to.
“It was a dare,” she informed him quietly. “From my last birthday.”
“Your dare was to bring me flowers?” He snorted amusedly. “That’s kind of sweet though.”
“It was supposed to be until you noticed or until my birthday, so everyone’s excited to find out which will happen first. They even have a betting pool.”
“A betting pool?”
Félix locked her between himself and his locker. It was a little bit of extra privacy, especially since it was easy to assume that people in those slightly compromising positions were busy socializing.
“Who’s betting and why?”
“I… Everyone. It’s silly, I swear. One of the other girls’ set it up.” She rolled her eyes. “Um, the main prize is a picnic date with me. But there are some other prizes too, like gift cards, pastries, and so on.”
“That’s… big-scale.”
Marinette nodded, embarrassed.
“Would you um, be interested in placing a bet?” She offered half-jokingly.
“Alright.” Félix wasn’t joking. He stepped away, releasing Marinette from the trap. “He’ll figure it out in two days time, and tell her what he knows.”
Her smile widened. “But don’t go around telling it to just anyone! It’s a secret!”
He zipped his lips and threw the imaginary key in her direction. She caught it, amused, and watched him leave with a quick wave-goodbye, a little confused about the conclusion to a whole year’s events, but still happy they had been able to make some progress.