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“Tell me a secret.”
Chat watched as Marinette’s head whipped up and around so fast he thought she was going to have severe whiplash. Still, he kept the humor to himself and waited for her to respond.
“A secret?” she asked. “What kind?”
The kind where you tell me why you stopped liking Adrien Agreste? And who you like now?
Chat shoved that thought aside and turned his attention to the yarn she had provided him with directly. It was a pretty shade of blue and very soft and very fun to play with. “Whatever comes to mind, I guess.”
His heart hammered in his chest, wondering if she would oblige him. If so, what kind of secret would she share with him? Probably not what he wanted, but any tidbit of information from his Princess was good enough for him.
“I can’t bake.”
That was not what he was expecting. His ears perked in confusion and curiosity. “You can’t bake?”
“Nope,” Marinette continued, looking down at the project that she had started a while back. It was a black dress with a few layers. Chat could see that there was some sort of effect to be gained by how the cloth was placed, but it was lost on him for now. “Every time my friends come over, it’s my parents who make the snacks, not me.”
“Oh, and I thought I was eating the fruits of my dear princess’s labor,” Chat said dramatically, casting an arm over his eyes for his intended effect.
She giggled. It worked.
“Trust me, chaton, if you were eating the fruits of my labor you’d be coughing up char,” Marinette chuckled. She turned back to the dress, arranging the cloth in some way that would bring whatever vision in her head to life. He still had no idea what she was going for, though. “What about you? Any scandalous secrets that you wanna share?”
Chat thought about it for a moment. There were several secrets he would like to share. That he was in her class. That he knew how to play the piano, but could not sing very well. He was almost fluent in Chinese. That one of his lesser known talents was his ability to climb as a civilian. That one of his favorite past times was coming into Marinette’s room and watching her bring warmth to even inanimate objects. That nowadays when he was told to smile, he often thought of her working hard with her tongue poking out of her mouth or one of their sassing matches. That he admired her as a leader when they were in class and as one of the closest and most wonderful friends he had ever had during the nights.
That he was slowly falling in love with her and terrified of having her come to harm because of it.
His ears picked up a gasp and the rustling of cloth. He turned towards Marinette to find the project forgotten and her eyes on him once again.
“What?” he asked. Then, ever so slowly, it came to him. That habit he thought he had long since grown out of. When his house had no longer felt like the safe haven it had when he was younger, the habit had stopped. But now... now that he felt comfortable and safe in this place... “Please tell me I didn’t say any of that out loud.”
“Um...”
Chat Noir groaned. “Is it too late to change my secret?”
“Yup.”
Another loud groan. Drat this yarn for keeping him tied up.