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“Ah..”
Despite being banished off to the chaise longue with a savoury batch of croissants, Chat Noir's enhanced ears easily picked up the feeble sound. Immediately he was up and at Marinette's desk, peering over her shoulder to find she had accidentally (and unsurprisingly) pricked another one of her fingers with a rose thorn.
He frowned disapprovingly at several other pricks and cuts marring her skin. “You need to stop.”
She sucked the dot of blood from her ring finger, the action not going unnoticed by the feline hero. “Why it's just a little nick.”
“No, it's not. You're abandoning this insane project right now.” He declared, an accusatory, clawed finger pointed at the stash of freshly procured rose bushes scattered around her desk. If only she'd gone to a florist, they would've given her a proper bouquet of any variety of flowers she'd requested. A bouquet without anything that could lead to her possibly injuring her hands. But no! Creative as she was, Marinette had to have those thorny flowers for the incredibly authentic gift she wanted to craft for her beloved “Buttercup”.
She scoffed. “As if you can just tell me what to do.”
That's it. To hell with her dearest Buttercup and the incredulous amounts of gifts she regularly made for him. It was entertaining for a while, endearing even to see someone else trying so hard to impress the person they liked. She was a reflection of his own feelings and efforts. But he didn't want her to persevere any longer. And not simply because he didn't want to see her getting hurt but also because this particular gift idea was absolutely ridiculous.
“It's stupid! Whatever are you making with those!?” He asked in frustration.
“It's not stupid!” She was offended. “You'll know when it's done.”
“All this disregard for personal safety over a boy?”
“You're one to talk when you jump in to shield Ladybug at the expense of your own life.”
“I'm a superhero with magical armor to protect me from any harm.”
Marinette cocked her head and pouted.
“Listen, Princess,” he took hold of her hands in his own, leather claws gently stroking the little cuts on her knuckles.
His earnest gaze leveled with hers. “If your Buttercup is anything like me,” he leaned down to kiss her knuckles, smoothly slipping the rose out of her grasp, “then he wouldn't want you getting hurt over him.”
Marinette stared at him, soft lips slightly parted, bluebell eyes swirling with an unknown emotion as Chat pulled her to her feet and guided her away from her desk.
“It's unfair Chaton.” She grumbled as she settled comfily beside him on the chaise. “For you to sweet talk me out of this.”
“Only because I care, Purrincess .” He winked cheekily.
Unbeknownst to her, he had stealthily cataclysm-ed the nasty bush of roses whilst helping her towards the chaise. Tomorrow when she finds out, she'll be furious about it but forgive him nonetheless because Marinette was kind like that.
But that was something he'll have to deal with later on. For now, he offered his plate of croissants to her and suggested. “Movie?”
She took a bite of one and smiled. “Movie it is.”