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“Look, Mari, all I’m saying is that I’m worried about you!!”
Chat Noir crossed his arms and frowned deeply at the raven-haired girl who sat perched on her balcony railing, who returned his glare with a roll of her eyes. “Well as much as I appreciate your concern —”
“Don’t give me that, Marinette,” he snapped, regretting his tone almost immediately as she shrank almost imperceptibly into herself. He didn’t know who the hell she thought she was kidding, though. True, she had never once cried about their breakup in front of him, neither as Adrien nor as Chat Noir, but he knew her well enough to recognize when something was wrong. “You just…you’re not yourself these days. You look so…”
Crushed, betrayed, devastated , his mind helpfully supplied.
“…s-sad,” he finished lamely, wishing he had more freedom to tell her all he knew. There was no way for Chat Noir to know what her days were like, but at least he got to talk to her. Adrien had a front row seat to the train wreck he’d made of her emotions, but even though they had class together almost daily, he felt her absence more acutely than if she’d left town. Marinette wasn’t the same, with the tension and pain that seemed to weigh her down in his presence like a physical burden—most days she could barely even look at him. She moved through the day completely on autopilot, drained of all her usual vivacity, like she wasn’t even inside her body.
At this point, “worried” was a gross understatement. His concern for her was a solid thing lodged firmly in his chest that ached at all hours of the day. It was why he had begun visiting her as Chat Noir—but not why he’d kept coming back. It had only taken a week to realize that he craved her presence, and even if she hadn’t seemed thrilled about his visits at first, at least she hadn’t turned him away.
Maybe, some desperate part of him whispered, she’d needed to be near him just as much, even if she hadn’t known it was him.
Her eyes briefly met his own, and the flash of agony he read there before she looked away sliced mercilessly at his heart. He had made her look that way, and he had to squash down an irrational urge to deck himself. “I…yeah, I know. I’m sorry, I just…” She blew out a frustrated breath and hung her head. “I’m having a hard time finding the happy in life right now, I guess.”
Chat pressed his lips into a thin line, then sighed heavily. “Fine. You give me no choice then, Princess.” Before he’d had time to overthink it, he’d strode boldly into her space. Marinette’s expression remained unimpressed, but one eyebrow twitched upward as he smirked and leaned heavily against the railing on either side of her. “It’s time to exercise the nuclear option.”
A small frown pinched her brows together and she opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she’d meant to say was lost in a shriek of surprise as Chat hooked his arms around the backs of her thighs and hoisted her into the air, holding her securely to him as he spun in tight circles on the spot. Marinette’s shocked laughter echoed across the Paris rooftops, loud and breathless and genuine, and his heart sang.
He hadn’t heard her laugh like this since they had broken up, he realized, and it was a sound he had feared he would never hear again. Her head was thrown back, eyes scrunched closed as she giggled, cheeks flushed…she was breathtaking. A sudden swell of emotion brought him to a halt and he buried his face in her shoulder to hide as tears pricked unexpectedly at the corners of his eyes.
She giggled again and flung her arms around his neck to return the embrace. “Thank you, minou ,” she murmured. “I really needed that.” For a moment she stayed where she was, but after at least a minute had passed and he hadn’t released her, he felt her slowly disengage and start to pull away. Chat closed his eyes and drew a breath, intending to crack some sort of joke to break the tension, but to his horror all that came out was a shuddering, mournful sigh. Marinette froze in his arms for a moment—then he felt small hands cupping his jaw and his head was gently tilted until they were face-to-face.
“Hey,” she murmured, bluebell eyes troubled. “What’s wrong?”
Chat’s jaw worked for a moment before clenching tightly shut, blocking the confessions that threatened to explode out of him. There was so much he wanted, needed to tell her, but…without revealing his identity, how could he possibly explain to her how much he missed her? He couldn’t tell her how much he had regretted letting her go without a fight as Adrien, or how guilty he felt, or…
Or how badly he wanted to kiss her just then.
Because, god , he wanted to kiss her.
He suddenly wished he’d had the courage to kiss her properly during their brief courtship. Maybe…maybe he still had a chance as Chat Noir. She had loved him once, she’d said it herself. But no , he chastised himself, that would put her in terrible danger. Not to mention the fact that he was sure she’d be furious just to know that he was on her balcony almost nightly, pretending that he hadn’t broken her heart. If he got involved with her as his alter ego, what would she say when she found out that her ex -boyfriend was also her new boyfriend…? She would never speak to him again, and no jury on earth would condemn her. No, he definitely couldn’t—
—uh. Why was she giving him that look? Oh hell, how long had he been spiraling while she’d been waiting for an answer?
Face flaming, he screwed his eyes shut, afraid of what he might do or say if he looked directly at her. He had to say something , he realized, and suddenly the words were out before he’d had a chance to sign off on them.
“”I don’t want to lose you,” he blurted in a whisper, throat tightening as he felt her go still again.
The silence that followed his hushed non sequitur of a confession was deafening, and he was about to lower her to the ground and apologize profusely when he heard a small chuckle, and her thumbs gently swept along his cheekbones. Swallowing hard, Chat opened his eyes to find himself almost nose to nose with Marinette, who was studying him appraisingly even as her lips curved into a bemused smile.
“Lose me?” Her forehead rested against his own as her fingernails softly scraped against the nape of his neck, and he was distantly surprised that the heat from his cheeks didn’t singe the edges of his mask. “And how’re you gonna manage that, kitty-cat?”
Her voice was playful but her ocean eyes betrayed her concern, searching his face for clues to the sudden change in his mood. He felt her brow furrow where their heads touched for a split second before she schooled her expression, and Chat bit down on his tongue to keep himself in check.
It would be so easy, he thought, gaze dropping to stare forlornly at her lips despite his best efforts. She was so close that all he’d have to do to capture those lips was tilt his chin up a fraction of an inch.
He wanted to do it. So badly that he ached .
Hesitantly, Chat raised his face just enough to meet her eyes, trying to suppress a shiver as his nose brushed lightly against hers. Was…had she been leaning in? She was watching him with a kind of intensity that he hadn’t expected and it made his heart skip several beats, stumbling over itself when it lurched back into action—
And then she seized his face in an iron grip, squishing his cheeks so tightly that they pressed his lips into a fish-like pucker. An indignant squawk caught in his throat as Marinette’s lips quirked back into an exasperated half smile, commanding his attention once again. Pink was dusted lightly across her cheekbones. “Don’t worry so much about silly things.”
Chat huffed a quiet almost-laugh of equal parts embarrassment and relief. “Sorry,” he forced out, though when it came out more like “Fthorry” she seemed to remember herself and quickly released him. He followed her lead and mutely set her back on her feet before scuttling backwards, putting a respectable distance between them. His hands clasped tightly together behind his back, he stared at his own feet as they shuffled awkwardly, groping for the right thing to say.
Marinette cleared her throat lightly and he flinched a little. “Well. If we’re quite finished with the moping portion of our evening, want to come in and get your butt handed to you in a Mecha Strike 3 tournament?”
The warmth in her voice gave him the courage to glance shyly up at her through his fringe, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that grew into a light chuckle as he took her in. Her face was still as flushed as his own, but she stood in the cockiest stance she could muster, one hip thrown out to the side and arms folded at her chest as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
She was utterly adorable, and his stomach swooped and sank simultaneously as he realized that he loved her.
“After you, Princess,” Chat murmured with a small bow, and she grinned at him before spinning on her heel and marching purposefully towards the hatch that lead down into her room. He trailed obediently after her, trying to pretend that he wasn’t reeling from the last few minutes, head and heart buzzing so loudly he was sure she’d be able to hear it.
You have to end this , he scolded himself mentally as he slipped through the hatch onto her loft bed. It’s not fair to her, and she’s going to be in so much danger if anyone finds out. Stop now, before you can’t .
Yeah. Right.
God, he was so screwed.