The day is late and the sun is quickly disappearing behind the Parisian horizon, casting soft orange hues across her face. It's a stunning sight, the color mingling with the bluebell of her eyes. She's staring at me, and I realize I'm staring as well. She shifts her gaze down and I follow suit, looking down at the tourists below, some holding out cameras trying to capture the ephemeral sunset. Idiots, I think, for the most beautiful thing is not before them, but above them, sitting hidden in an alcove of the Eiffel Tower. Sitting here with me.
I look back at her. "Ladybug?"
She blinks. And then she's pinning me again with those intense eyes. "Yes, Chat?"
"I think-" my throat constricts and I take a gulp of air. "I think we should know each other's identities."
Ladybug visibly stiffens, her gaze flicking to my ring and back to my face. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" I can hear the whine in my own voice and force it out, "Whoever said we couldn't know?"
She glances away sheepishly. "Well, no one, I guess."
I push my back off the metal beam I'm sitting against. I lean forward, my knee pressing into my chest, eager. "So, I ask again, why not?"
"I don't want to, Chat." She pulls her legs up to her body and hugs them. " I like being Ladybug too much."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Ladybug's eyes cut through me like diamonds. She's practically glaring. I don't know what I've done to anger her. "Because I like who I am when I'm Ladybug! I like that no one knows how much of a klutz I am, because when I wear this mask I'm just Ladybug, and not-"
Shocked, I stare at her, mouth agape. She doesn't want me to know because she doesn't want me to see her differently. Ladybug doesn't want me to see her imperfect, honest self.
She gets up, yoyo in hand. She's clearly upset; I can't stand to see her upset. I scramble to my feet and grab at her wrist.
"Wait!"
She abruptly turns and I pull her into an unexpected embrace. Ladybug tenses and stops breathing. I'm curved over her small frame, my arms wrapped around her torso.
"I don't care who you are, My Lady," I say, "I'm already in love with you."
I let go and step back to look into her eyes. They're glistening with tears, two already sliding down her right cheek. I cup her face, my fingertips brushing against her Miraculous.
When I kiss her, she tastes like fresh baked pastries and salty tears. Her body relaxes and bends toward mine and when she takes a breath she's taking from my lungs. I kiss her again, and again, and again.
And then I pull the earrings out.