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It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t his fault that he wound up at his classmate’s house long after Paris slept. It wasn’t his fault that she was kind to him, if somewhat odd for mimicking him when she thought he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t his fault that when his stomach growled once, she decided to give him some leftovers then and almost every visit after. It wasn’t his fault that when a stray gets fed, it keeps coming back in the hopes of more.
It wasn’t his fault at all.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. It was definitely the cat in him. Because why else was Chat Noir, superhero of Paris, opening a hatch he knew was unlocked just for him? Trying not to think about it, he hopped down to her bed, gently landing on his feet as a cat should. He looked over the railing and, to his surprise, saw no Marinette in sight. Her chaise was abandoned, her designs put away, and her computer was asleep- asleep! He hastily looked behind him, having honestly not thought to look at the bed before jumping down. There, under her pink covers and practically buried beneath pillows, was Marinette. Or, well, a vaguely Marinette-shaped lump.
Nudging carefully, he tried to wake her.
“Princess. Princess. Princess. Princess,” he mewled over and over. “Mari. Mari. Mari. Marinette. Princess. Mari. Mar-bear. Princess. Princess.”
Not receiving any reaction from her, Chat sighed and sat on his haunches. It wasn’t his fault he was being annoying and, perhaps, rude. He was hungry and craved attention; an all-day photoshoot had kept him from school, and while the attention had been focused on him, it was the wrong kind. It was mechanical, and he wanted the genuine attention that came from a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?
Surely she’d understand. That’s what he thought, anyways, when his head began to butt against hers. Unfortunately for him, that only managed to make her worm further underneath her covers and pillows. Getting impatient, and perhaps against better judgement, he pulled her from under her pillows, got close to her ear, and yowled, “Princess!”
As it turned out, he really shouldn’t have done that, because while one second he was waiting for her to wake up, the next second he felt her elbow slamming into his cheek accompanied by a shriek. Shocked and in pain, he hopped down to the room below them and rubbed his face. Chat knew not getting attention could be very painful, but who knew receiving some could hurt so badly? His tail lashed behind him and his ears flattened as he winced. That would definitely bruise later.
Up in her bed, Marinette tried to calm her breathing. The word the stranger had whispered to her assured her that he wasn’t actually a stranger. Too bad the thought hadn’t registered before she nailed him in the face. Rolling over to the rail, she looked over and saw him, a look of regret on her face.
“I’m sorry, Kitty, you scared me,” she told him. The scowl and small hiss she got in return was response enough. Reaching beside her, she took a small container from the shelf above her pillows and held it over the edge. “Come on, kitty, kitty, don’t be like that! Look what I’ve got for you!” She shook the container until he finally looked up at her, smiling when he did. When he started walking back up, she laughed and said, “That’s it, that’s my good chaton!”
Once he was up the stairs, he eyed her warily. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t deny her his presence nor could he deny the treats she had for him.
He padded right up next to her but refused to sit until she opened the lid container, allowing him access to its contents. That, combined with the very welcoming scent and posture of Marinette, broke his cattitude. He sat down right next to his princess and smiled. It was in no way his fault that this girl had become his safety net. His home.
“Thank you very much, Princess!” he said, grinning ear to ear when she handed him the box of goodies. She giggled a bit when he immediately entangled his hands with twine, and to be honest, Chat thought her laugh sounded better than the twine felt. He didn’t comment on it though, not that he could with his concentration set on freeing himself, but he certainly thought it. It wasn’t even the first time he thought it. After all, when he’s around as often as he was, he found it impossible not to get caught on her laughter. The way it sounded, how it created a comforting warmness in his chest, the way her eyes crinkled… It was alluring and enthralling, to say the least.
Thinking of that, he almost missed it when her head fell into place at his shoulder and her hand found its way to his hair. He tried to keep the purring down, but it really was an overpowering force when he was Chat Noir, so no less than half a minute later, the only sound in the room was his purring. Every time he glanced over at her, he’d find her either watching him or falling asleep. It wasn’t his fault that with each glance, his heartbeat increased or even skipped a beat.
It wasn’t his fault that his face was painted scarlet by the time she fell asleep on him.
Smiling down at her, he repositioned her so that she would be laying down. He laid back too then, still messing with all the trinkets she’d tempted him with. He might not have gotten any food this time around, not that he could blame her for that, he’d come at an ungodly hour, but food or not, he’d come as long as she allowed him to, really. And that was his fault, he realized, because somewhere down the line, he’d gotten close. He’d gotten close to a civilian he had no right getting close to, as Chat Noir, and they walked hand in hand into love. There was no epiphany of it. There was no magical kiss of true love that sealed their feelings for each other. No, it had taken work. It has taken time and care and respect. And while Chat decided it was his fault it had happened in the first place, he was glad for it. Nuzzling against her, he continued to purr, interrupting it only to say, “Sweet dreams, Purrincess.” He fell asleep shortly thereafter, both content with how their relationship had gone. Both laying next to the ones they trusted most in the world.
It wasn’t his fault that that night, he had the best sleep he’s had in years.