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“Am I alive?”
“Nope. Am I alive?”
“You gotta quit repeating my questions.” Félix huffed, arms crossed, but Marinette recognized the amusement in his voice.
“Answer the question, Félix!”
“Yes. Am I larger than a person?”
Marinette squinted her eyes, head cocking. “Depends…”
“Am I larger than you?” Félix raised an eyebrow.
Although Marinette wasn’t sure what the jab in there was, she still feigned offense like she did. “Hmph. No. Uhm…” She put a hand to her chin. “Am I an animal?”
“No. Am I wearable?”
Marinette bit down the groan as best as she could, but by Félix’s grin, she could tell he saw it right away.
“I’m a hoodie!”
“Yes. But you don’t go singing victory just yet!” she quickly said, extending a palm to stop Félix from taking off the paper on his forehead. She then pulled back, a finger raised as she addressed Félix’s questioning look: “You still haven’t figured which hoodie you are.”
“What?” He blinked, eyebrows raising. “You didn’t actually specify which hoodie, did you?”
Marinette just grinned, reaching for the cup besides her to take a sip of her tea before asking, “Am I a plant?”
“Yes.” Félix had his narrowed eyes fixed on her for a moment, then he turned his head to look around. “Am I in this room?”
Marinette flinched almost imperceptibly. “Maybe.”
“Marinette…”
“Yes, yes. Fine!” She groaned to the ceiling, placing her teacup down with a clink—good thing it was almost empty, or it might’ve sloshed her carpet. “I hate how smart you are.”
Félix’s satisfied hum as he stood up only made her sulk more.
“Am I a flower?”
“Yes.” He picked a piece of cloth from her bed. “Am I well taken care of?”
“Define: well taken care of.”
“Do I desperately need a visit to the laundry room?” He said, pointedly holding the gray hoodie she’d often put on when experimenting with her gadgets away from his face.
“No.” Marinette rolled her eyes, watching as he threw the piece of clothing on a basket nearby. “Am I in one of Flora’s gardens?”
“Yes.” Félix now moved to her wardrobe. “Do you wear me often?”
Marinette pursed her lips, eyes going skyward for a moment, then answered, “Not really, no.”
Félix hummed, clacks and swooshes sounding out as he moved her racks.
“Was I planted recently?” Marinette asked, racking her brain for all the seeds and buds she helped Flora carry before Félix found it.
“No,” Félix said with a grin, and Marinette already knew she lost. “I’m your cat hoodie.”
Marinette flopped to her side, whimpering at her loss as Félix stepped over with a white hoodie with orange and black splotches like a calico cat held over his torso.
“Yes…” She pouted, picking her own paper off her forehead. “A dandelion? Flora doesn’t even plant them, they just appear in her gardens, how was I supposed to guess that?”
“Hey–” Félix poked at her back with his foot. “–you don’t get to say that when you wrote ‘my calico cat hoodie’ on mine!”
“And still– look who won and look who’s on the floor in misery.”
“That was despite your vile play.” Félix’s ladybug socks appeared in her field of vision, and soon, he was sitting down with a white-orange-brown hoodie fit around his torso, blond hair sticking out from the cat-eared hood.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
“After this win, I think I earned it.”