Summary : He loved nights like this.

Characters : Marinette/Ladybug & Adrien/Chat Noir.

Setting : AU Where Ladybug doesn't exist and Mari isn't super hard crushing on Adrien. The terrace on Marinette's roof, nighttime.

The air whistled softly through Marinette's pigtails, swishing them and her pajamas without a care. The time was late but the night was young and the girl was suffering from a bout of insomnia. On these restless nights, Marinette often took her sketchbook outside and doodled anything that came to mind, whether it be Paris's Next Greatest Fashion or that black cat patrolling through Paris. The girl drew anything that glimpsed across her mind. Usually these nightly exercises lulled her back to sleep easily, but tonight was different. She couldn't place a finger on it, but the atmosphere felt different; the air little too warm and humid, the moon was a little more distant and out of reach, something was missing, and there was absolutely no chance of sleep returning to the girl. Fortunately, this didn't bother Marinette at all. She was more than content to stay awake and draw until the early hours.

A breeze fluttered across her face gently, and in the distance, she seem a familiar figure leaping over buildings. "That silly kitty," she said to herself, "what on Earth would he be doing over here at this time of night?" True to her vision, Chat Noir was making his way from building to building, gliding over them with ease. Truthfully, it wasn't unusual for the black cat to pay the girl midnight visits — safety measure, he called it. She and Adrien were the only two people in her class that haven't been akumatized yet, and he took it upon himself to keep it that way. There was no way he could know that she could never be akumatized, and Marinette enjoyed his company enough not to send him on his way. Often, he chatted with her until the sun came up, and she would never admit it, but their talks were the highlight of her day. "Bonne nuit, Chat Noir," she said, a light smile on her lips, "Whatever bought you to my humble home this night?"

The superhero smiled and perched himself on the railing, sending her an easy look with his eyes. Dramatically, he began, "I was out on my midnight prowl and thought to pay my princess a visit, if she doesn't mind." He threw a wink her way that would've made Marinette blush if came from anyone but him. He knew the most to expect from her was a small chuckle, and that's exactly what he got.

"At such a late hour? Oh, what'll he neighbors think?" Marinette dramatically played along, setting down her sketchbook and propping her elbows on her knees. She rested her head in her hands and smiled charmingly, batting her eyes. Chat Noir made her feel like no one else ever had—and she couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not. He thrilled her, but she knew from his missions that he was reckless and unpredictable.

He tipped toed over to where she sat, and lowered his face to her ear. "You may be a princess," he whispered, a playful smile across his face, "but baby, I'm an animal." She flashed him a small smile and lightly pushed him away.

"You're flirting again," she reminded him.

"And your hand's still on my chest," he said, looking down at her. He chuckled a second before adding, "I think you like my flirting."

"Only if your wildest dreams!" She retorted, crossing her arms. Her tone was playful, but she looked at him with a sharp defiance.

"Meow-tech," he said, brushing off her comment. "I love it when you're sassy."

"You'd love me anyhow," she quipped back. The cat looked at her, but shrugged, as if to say she was right. For a while, they didn't speak, but let the silence talk for them. It was light and comfortable, and the superhero took the opportunity to look through her sketch pad. He did so nearly every trip he made to her house, but it was a new experience each time he cracked open the book. Each drawing was different from the last, some colored and others left monochrome. "Why do you like looking through that?" Marinette asked after a while. She asked the question constantly, but she never received an answer. The cat would simply smile and change the subject, never to bring it up again.

"You're really talented, Marinette." The girl felt her eyes widen greatly, as it was incredibly odd for him to use her first name. "Like, these are absolutely beautiful. I'm mesmerized." Marinette smiled at him, and bit her lip softly. Her sketchbook was something she hadn't shown too many people, but when she did, they never said anything like that.

"No lame cat pun? How cat-astrophic," she said, a light flush covering her face.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, his green eyes staring into hers with unusual importance. His silly demeanor shed, he stared at her openly and honestly, baffled.

"Do what?"

"You don't accept compliments. Not just from me, but anyone someone tells you that something you did was pretty great, you brush it off. 'It was no big deal' or 'It's not that great.' Why do you do that?"

"Because it's never really that great. I'm clumsy and goofy and it shows in everything I do. It's never good enough because I know I could do so much better. It's not good." For a hot second, she was stunned. Her conversations with Chat before this had been nonsense and playful, all fun and games and silliness. This was something foreign, something odd. The air was too warm and the sky was too dark, and she had no idea whether or not she liked serious Noir. "Why do you visit me like this?"

"Just to keep you safe—"

"That's not true, Noir. We both know that."

"You're smart."

"You're deflecting."

"And the night's so beautiful—"

"That's stalling."

"Very smart."

"Now you're out of things to say."

The black cat bit his lip and said nothing, seemingly shifting through his words. When he looked back at her, she looked patient, ready. Like there was nothing more he could do. "Cat got my tongue?" This earned a small, gentle smile from the girl and a giggle. "That's why I'm always here. You keep digging and digging if you want something, and you're stubborn enough to get it. It's alluring and amazing and I just can't get enough of you. And I know this I stupid and a bad idea but I just don't want you getting hurt and if anything happened to you, I wouldn't know what to do."

Marinette was taken slightly aback by this, but smiled anyway. She felt herself creep forward and hesitantly added, "I can't get enough of you either."

She watched him move in, and smiled when he said, "You're so relaxed."

"It's because you're here, Chat." Gently, hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, just for a taste of what this could be. All she wanted—all she needed was a taste and she'd let go. She'd let the bad idea stay a bad idea and nothing more, and laugh more with her Chat Noir. He was hers, wasn't he? "I've got my own little superhero making sure I'm okay. There's no reason for me to be nervous at all."

"Really? 'Cause I'm incredibly nervous now," the cat spoke, his eyes staring back into hers.

"Silly kitty," Marinette said, placing her hands on her hips and smiling softly, "curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction bought it back. This—You—I might be a bad idea, but you love bad ideas, don't you?"

"You're purrfect," he said, placing another kiss on her lips.