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Do not ask Marinette Dupain Cheng how she got into this position. This exact position where she had one hand upon her partner’s shoulder. This one where his clawed fingers delicately rested upon her waist. This very stance where their hands were lightly pressed against each other, using just enough pressure to allow him the ability to guide her through the motions.
Because she neither knew the answer nor cared enough to provide one.
“You have a strange taste in music, I hope you know,” she stated bluntly. Her masked companion merely gave a lighthearted chuckle as he turned her.
“You haven’t even seen the movie. I think you’d love it,” he returned. She gave a slight yet lighthearted harrumph.
“It’s anime,” she stated.
“It’s a masterpiece by one of the most acclaimed filmmakers of all time,” he corrected. Marinette smirked as she rolled her eyes, but allowed Chat Noir to keep a hold of the lead in their dance.
“It’s still anime.”
“Tell you what, princess,” Chat Noir said as he led her in a graceful spin. No one would see that spin save themselves and the ever present moon. “I’ll bring the movie over next time and we’ll see if you like it or not. If you like it, I get another dance.”
“And if I don’t?” Nothing was complete around Marinette without a challenge. It was one of the things Chat Noir found himself increasingly drawn in by when it came to his raven haired classmate. He chuckled.
“Then you can pick my punishment.”
Another graceful spin. Another lighthearted laugh. A piano that continued to dance.
“You got yourself a deal, chaton.”