"Are you really that shallow?"
He lifted my chin, stared into my eyes. He looked lost, uncertain, searching for an answer.
"I-I…" I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that I fell in love with his quirky pick up lines, or his unnaturally green eyes that glowed with powerful love. I couldn't tell him that when he stood by my side, his mouth close to my ear and his warm breath heating my neck, I could barely breathe. I couldn't tell him that, everyday, I wanted to reach out and pet those little cat ears at the top of his head, to stroke them and feel their texture.
I couldn't tell him that I knew he was Chat Noir.
So when he asked why I loved him, why I fell for him of all people, I panicked. I said it was because he was a model. Because he had the most beautiful golden hair and the brightest green eyes. I shied away from anything to do with personality, in case my rambling lead to descriptions of Chat Noir, because I couldn't tell him.
I made a mistake. It wasn't the right thing to do. As he searched for genuine love, I looked away, tears brimming as he dropped his hand.
"Adrien…" I whispered. "I…"
"No."
He moved away, and I could feel the absence of his warmth.
"I-I can't believe I thought you loved me."
I gasped. "No, Adrien, you don't understand-"
"Marinette, you made it perfectly clear. I liked you because I thought you knew me, but you don't. We're over."
He didn't know, and I couldn't tell him. As he walked away, I curled up, hugged myself, closed myself off. I messed up, I messed up, I messed up. And I couldn't tell him.