He couldn't see anything. He was left in total darkness, like a satin blindfold had covered his eyes and blocked his view.
Chat tried to grab at the restraint, but his hands only felt the thin empty air. There was nothing preventing him from seeing, then why did he still hear the sounds of an akuma wreaking havoc echoing in his ears, but was only greeted with blackness.
The world was spinning around, vertigo setting in, the unfamiliar feeling of losing his sight was going over his head. He vaguely heard someone screaming his name, but his knees gave in and he stumbled to the ground before he could assure them that he was okay.
It was disconcerting. Head whirling, he screwed his eyes shut and opened them, but without any luck. He was completely blind.
Abruptly, he was hit with a strange smell, as something rotten was seeping through his nostrils. He raised his hand to his nose and mouth, suppressing the urge to vomit. It reeked of corpses.
As quickly as it had come, it was gone. And then he was choking.
He couldn't get the words out. His hands moved to his neck, it was as if the invisible strings were tying his throat closed, resulting in his muteness.
Chat licked his lips and his tongue tasted coppery blood. He hadn't noticed that he had hit his head on the cold pavement. Red and patchy fluid was dripping down the side of his face, he was no longer able to make a sense of its flavor.
His senses were disappearing one by one. His heartbeat was slowing down, the serene calmness taking over his body.
"No, no, this wasn't supposed to happen," the frantic, but soft feminine voice caressed his ears and he regretfully accepted the fact that soon he wouldn't be able to hear nor recall the voice.
The gentle hands took a hold of his torso and he leaned into the touch. He wanted to beg the person to press him tighter against them, so he could at least feel something, which would assure him that it wasn't the end, he was not going to die.
"Please, Chat, don't leave me," she shouldn't have sounded that crushed and heartbroken. She would be alright, he was not her lifeline.
One of the hands was stroking his hair and the movement was soothing. He smiled slightly when she strengthened the grip around him, until he could no longer hear the whispering seraphic voice.
Liquid drops fell on his face and she tenderly cupped his cheek. She had promised not to cry for him, ever. He ought to have known she would lie.
Chapped and damp lips ghosted over his and yet didn't deepen the pressure. He found himself slowly responding, still able to touch and feel, though he pleaded her to exonerate him from his anguish.
He made himself vow that he would use the opportunity to resolve his ache for her fondness to its full capacity. Her lips moved eagerly over his, inching closer and straining to get the last faint breaths out of him.
Unhearing, unseeing, unfeeling. Barely conscious, but still breathing, her name appeared in his hazy mind: Ladybug.
He let go.
He hadn't told her. He had always flirted shamelessly without any further thought, he had always hinted, but he hadn't managed to get the words out, before he knew it, it was already too late.
He was afraid, terrified of the rejection, of her gentle, but painful letdown. He hadn't wanted her to avert her eyes every time they met his, he wasn't ready for her discreetly shifting away from him, wincing at the slightest contact.
He wanted to tell her, but he didn't know how. He feared to be torn apart thread by thread. Crying for mercy, to have things back to how they were.
What good brings his love now? He can't protect her, he can't be there for her, when he's dead.
It was pitch black. It was as if he was in a vacuum, no ringing in his ears, emptiness surrounding him, all his limbs unmoving and not reacting to his commands.
Everything was starting to clear up, there was no dizziness dancing around his head. Why was he still able to construct thoughts, was a mystery. It was surprisingly calm.
He had died in Ladybug's arms. If not for the thought that he had been sucked out of life, he would have felt giddy that she had cared for him enough to be the last person he would see. God, how she had kissed him.
Isn't it ironic that she lastly noticed him when he was breathless?
Was this the end? Trapped in his mind for eternity – there would be no rest, the vivid memories of her, that he could easily grasp, distressed his thoughts.
He craved for release, but his efforts were futile. He remembered how her laugh chimed and eyes sparkled with mischief as she teased him and twirled around in an evident invitation for him to chase her across the rooftops.
He asked for nothing more, than to be by her side again.
No one could change it. Waking was a dangerous and awful dream.
Gazing at the stars, which rose in the night sky, he had once wondered, if he would be there with her in a year. Lying on their backs, pondering, whether they would find each other then, maybe even in their civilian forms.
In the same words and the same tune, she had refused to reveal herself to him until the very end. He had hoped and hope had been a disastrous thing.
Now he would never know.
He thought about his friends, his father and all the acquaintances he had met. Would they know what happened to him?
No one knew to make a connection between Adrien and Chat Noir. Would he be forgotten? Was anyone there that cared enough to find out the truth?
No, he won't disappear to nothingness, he won't drown, she would not forget him. He would not become a distant memory. He had to trust her.
Did Ladybug know now? Had he detransformed once he had stopped breathing? The possibility of her embracing all of him, not only one part of himself, would have made his heart beat faster, if it could function. She may not have loved him, but her knowing both sides of him, would have been enough for him. He was certain that his yearning for her would remain for infinity, no matter what happened.
His head started buzzing, while his body tingled, and he was confused. Why did the space around him start crumbling, when he didn't exist anymore?
It was as if he was underwater, he could hear, he could feel the harsh wind making him shiver, he could see the blind spots disappearing before his eyes and he fluttered them open, only to see watery shocked blues staring at him.
The surroundings brightened, the colours reappeared and she was there, grasping his body in her hands, broken before him, but stitched together as she realised that it wasn't a dream. He was blinking, he was alive.
Wow, he was literally brought back from the dead.
"Oh, minou, I-I thought, I thought you had...I was so afraid, I wasn't even sure, if it-it would even w-work. I don't know, what I would have done if it hadn't, I was so scared of losing you, Chat," she was hiccuping and rambling, the tears streaming down her face.
"You won't get rid of this cat that easily, my lady."
He raised his hand, which was still stiff, and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone to wipe away her tears. He noticed that he was still in his suit.
She gave him a weak smile and hid her face in the crook of his neck, sighing in overwhelming relief. He wrapped his arm around her back and closed his eyes as he slowly released the breath he had been holding in.
They would be alright.