Chapter Text
Chat Noir POV
Paris is asleep, but i’m not.
I leap from rooftop to rooftop, as if I were looking for something, or someone, even though I try not to think about it.
Ladybug didn’t show up for patrol tonight. No message... no sign.
And no, that’s not like her: she’s always on time, precise, heroic to the core. Too heroic, sometimes.
I slide down from a ledge, land with feline grace, obviously, and try not to think of the worst.
Maybe she had something to do. Maybe she’s just tired.
Maybe… she’s simply tired of me.
Wow. Here comes the melodramatic kitty.
I do a quick spin onto the next rooftop, as if that could shake the thoughts away, and suddenly I find myself just a few meters from a balcony I know all too well.
I smile.
My favorite Parisian lives here. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Creative, clumsy, kind… and with a talent for getting into trouble that defies all logic.
I don’t really know why, but every time I pass by this area, I feel the need to check that she’s okay. Just a glance, nothing more. After all, we’re friends.
I lean against the edge of her balcony, silent as a shadow — and I see her. Sitting beside her flowers, knees pulled to her chest, shoulders shaking... and she’s crying.
My smile vanishes instantly.
«Marinette?» I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me.
Is she talking to herself?
No… to a small red object I can’t quite make out... huh. Probably a plush toy, desperation leads to new imaginary friends.
«He shouldn’t have done this to me…» she murmurs.
Her voice trembles, just like her hands. She curls in on herself even more, as if she wants to disappear into the dark.
Who?
Who hurt her?
Anger rises in my throat before I even know who’s to blame.
Whoever it is… they made Marinette cry.
And I wasn’t there.
What kind of friend does that make me?
I stay frozen, torn between the urge to vanish and the urge to climb through the window and hold her tight.
In the end, I gently drop down and barely touch the edge of her balcony.
She jumps.
«Chat Noir?» she whispers, quickly sitting up and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
Now I notice there’s no plush toy at all… yeah, lack of sleep is catching up with me.
I try to smile, but it doesn’t quite work.
«I was passing by…»
Lie.
«…and it looked like someone might need a cat.»
She lets out a small laugh, that broken kind that hurts more than silence.
«Are you okay?» I ask, even though I already know the answer.
«Yes… I mean… not really.»
She lowers her gaze.
«It’s just something stupid.»
«If it made you cry, it’s not stupid.»
Silence.
I look at her and wonder how long she’s been feeling like this. And why I never noticed.
«Why don’t you talk about it?»
I ask softly, suddenly shy. She snaps her gaze up at me.
«I… it’s not important… I mean… it’s embarrassing.»
She stammers, like she always does when she’s nervous.
Always with me… I don’t understand why.
It hurts, but I don’t know why.
«Marinette… you can talk to me. Whatever it is.»
This time I really smile, one of those smiles I don’t use with anyone else.
She looks at me with those big eyes, full of words she doesn’t say.
And for a moment, in that quiet darkness, I get the strange feeling that tonight will change something.
Even if I don’t yet know what.