Oranges and pinks covered the Parisian sky that Friday evening. And like many evenings, a black blur was seen jumping from rooftop to rooftop, making sure the city was safe. The cool wind beat Chat Noir's face as he ran as fast as he could. As if he were running from something, but nothing was following him.

He made one more leap and slowed down, finally coming to a stop. He took deep breaths, and lifted his hand to ruffle his hair, only to remember it was tied in a short ponytail. It hadn't been until a few days ago that he decided to start wearing it again. When was the last time his hair had been this long? Two, three years ago? It had been a while.

With a sigh, he sat down at the edge of the building he was standing on. Where am I, anyway? He wondered. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't bothered to look where he was going. The only thing he cared about was getting away for a while, distracting himself, even if it was only temporary. Chat Noir looked around, taking in his surroundings. His eyes landed on a familiar building nearby: Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.

Of course, he thought, sadly. If that bakery was across the street, it could only mean one thing: he was sitting on his old school. It had been years since the last time he had been in Collège Françoise Dupont. A place that had meant so much to him. It was where he had met many of his closest friends, including his best friend, Nino.

A small smile curled his lips, as he remembered some of their random hangouts and projects. And how in their last year, Alya and Marinette joined them for many of their dumb adventures.

Marinette.

His eyes darted back to the bakery that her parents owned. It had been years since he last saw her. About… seven, eight years? Eight years. He was sure of it. The girl barely lasted a summer after they graduated from lycée. He never figured out why she had left so quickly, or why she turned down his father's offer for an internship. But at least she had made it far. That much he knew.

With a wistful breath, he stood up, about to leave, but movement from his peripheral vision caught his attention. Chat Noir turned to look properly, his hand reaching for the baton on his backside. Someone was climbing from the trapdoor on top of the building…

The hand on his baton slacked. That couldn't be who he thought it was… could it? No, she was living in London. There was no way…

But it was.

Closer to the edge of the building now, he could see that familiar freckled face, those bright, blue eyes and that shinning dark blue hair. An awed chuckled escaped his lips, as he noticed that, despite her hair being longer, it was in twin tails. Although, not as neat as back in the day. Without needing to think it twice, he leaped across, landing in a crouch on the railing of the balcony.

The woman yelped, startled.

"Marinette!" he almost shouted in his excitement. The woman gaped momentarily, before shouting, too.

"Chat Noir!" Immediately, she pulled on his arm to drag his feet down to the ground, and give him the fiercest hug he'd felt in the last eight years. "It's been so long!"

It was then that it occurred to the man that he rushed to her as Chat Noir, and not as Adrien. That was lucky.

"How you've been?" She pulled away, beaming. The blond couldn't help but grin back, taking in the woman in a purple tank top and pink shorts. Which he guessed was a sleeping outfit.

"Oh, you know, patrolling, keeping the city safe, the usual," he responded with a shrug. "What about you? I heard you've gotten pretty popular in the fashion business."

"Guess you could say that," she rolled her eyes. Yet, Chat Noir noticed a light blush on her cheeks for the compliment.

He still couldn't believe his eyes. After all these years, she was back. That girl he had grown to care for in his last years of school, who had disappeared, only saying goodbye to one of his halves.

"Are you back for good?" he couldn't help but ask. There was a beat. Marinette gave him a sad smile and responded: "Sorry. I'm only here on business."

"Oh." Chat Noir's smile faltered, and he could feel his fake ears droop. "That sucks," he said quietly.

"Hey," Marinette placed two fingers under his jaw. "Chin up. I'm here now. And if it makes you feel any better, you're one of the first people to see me since I got to Paris."

Chat Noir's cat-ears perked up. "Is that so?" he drawled.

"Well, not that I've had much time to see anyone else," she waved her hand dismissively. Only been here five minutes, and she's already teasing me.

"That's just harsh," he pouted, to which the woman giggled. "You know, you could've just gone out with Alya or something instead of coming out here."

"Actually, I was hoping to see you," Marinette admitted. Chat Noir straightened up, taken aback. The woman fiddled her fingers for a moment, until she looked back at the blond before her. "I missed you, chaton."

Chat blinked. Slowly, a soft smile curled his lips. "I missed you too, Princess."

They stared at each other for a moment, until Marinette turned to lay her forearms on the railing.

"So," she started, "what did I miss these last eight years?"

Chat grinned wider. "What have you not missed?" he joked, earning a loud chuckle from the blue-haired woman. And so, he started telling her about his years of crime fighting without akumas.

"I swear, it's unfair for our local criminals. They don't stand a chance!" Marinette gave another short laugh. He hadn't realized how much he missed it. But, even though it had been years, he could tell something about it felt hollow. "Everything okay?"

The woman hummed. "Yeah… It's just," she hesitated. After a quick glance at him, she continued. "You had to keep going on your own."

Oh. That.

He rested his forearms next to hers on the railing, their shoulders almost touching.

"Ladybug had her reasons to leave," he said quietly. "What happened was… really hard for her. She never forgave herself," he fiddled with the miraculous on his finger. "While I do wish she would've stayed, I understand why she didn't. But it's fine," he added as he looked back at her. "I'm not alone. The other three are still around, too."

"Right," Marinette asserted. "How are they?"

"They're alright," Chat Noir shrugged. "Same as me, patrolling, fighting weak criminals… bored."

"Bored?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Tortue Verte has been talking about retiring. Same for Queen Bee. They don't feel needed anymore."

"So you guys found the peacock miraculous?" Marinette straightened up. In response, Chat Noir sighed, thinking about the last mission Master Fu bestowed on them, before passing the role of guardian to Tortue Verte.

"No, but," he paused, "it's been eight years. At this point, we may as well declare it lost." The designer stared for a moment, and Chat Noir could see a hint of disapproval. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I'm retiring too."

Marinette's features softened. "You're right. Plus, you guys have things going on too. You're not kids anymore."

He agreed, trying not to think about the trials of adulthood. "Anyway," he said loudly, "enough about me. What about you? How's London treating ya?"

With a smile, Marinette began gushing about the wonders of England and the name she had made for herself. Apparently, she entered several internships during her university years, jumpstarting her career in fashion design. At the moment, she was working for one of the biggest fashion conglomerates in all of England. Not only that, but she was one of the highest regarded designers in the company.

"So, I can basically ask for whatever I want, and they grant it," Marinette finished.

"That's cool," Chat Noir muttered. "Any chance you can ask for a transfer to Paris?"

The designer's head whipped around, now staring with her mouth in the shape of an 'o'. It was then that Chat registered what he had just said, surprising even himself. Since when had he missed her this bad? Or was it just a symptom of seeing her again, after so long? Or… was it a reminder of old feelings?

"Wow, Chat. Never realized the impact I made on you," she teased. "Especially for a measly civilian."

"Hey, you're not some 'measly' civilian," he gestured air quotes as he said 'measly.' "You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng: only civilian ever capable of keeping up with the black cat." Marinette snorted, shaking her head. "And," he continued, "only civilian I ever cared to visit."

Marinette gaped, but quickly cleared her throat. "Careful there. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're trying to flirt with me."

"No!" Chat Noir nearly choked on his own saliva. "No, no, I'm not trying to flirt with you. T-that's way in the past now."

"Wait, what?" The blond bit his lip. Shit, was he being mouthy today. It was like he hadn't been allowed to talk in years… Well, come to think of it, that was not so far from the truth.

"Umm," he was able to get out. After taking a deep breath, he came to a decision. "Well," he drawled, "I had actually developed a, sorta, crush on you, in the last few months that you were here," he finished, cringing at the information he never thought he'd get to admit. Marinette stared for a moment, until a snort escaped her lips.

"Oh, that is so cute!" she gushed, prompting a pout from Chat Noir.

"Not. Cute," he complained, emphasizing each word. "It was mortifying. Have any idea how much harder it is to have a crush on a civilian instead of your superhero partner?"

"Shouldn't it be the other way around," Marinette pointed out. "Harder when you don't even know who you have a crush on?"

"No, because with a civilian, you know the only reason you didn't get together was because of pure cowardice." He gulped when the words got out. Perhaps he had let out a little more than he should've. "But that's in the past now," he tried to amend. "It's not like I ever stood a chance, anyway."

Chat Noir wanted to kick himself. Or perhaps sewing his mouth shut would be a better solution. Had he always been this frustrated about it? And why was he letting it slip out now? Like this? Guilting Marinette was not going to make time magically reverse. In the end, it had been his own fault, for never telling her how he felt, just like he never told Ladybug.

"S-so," Marinette stammered, "T-that new phone that's coming out looks… the same as the last one. How about that?"

The blond blinked. Did she do that on purpose? He wondered. Even as the sunlight had faded, he could still see a hint of pink on her cheeks. What does that mean?! Does it mean that she's flattered or…?

No. There was no way she had felt the same way. She liked another boy at the time. He never found out who it was, but she had been head over heels for him. Although… She did stop talking about him sometime during their last year in lycée.

"Yeah," he squeaked, now blushing too. "Yeah, that phone seems the same."

After that, they engaged in random conversation, purposefully avoiding the subject of their past feelings. It turned out to be easier to do than expected. They talked anout everything and nothing. Told stories from important life events, to that one-time a drunk guy puked on Chat Noir's supersuit. Which brought the loudest cackle he had ever heard from Marinette.

It was just like old times. Like no time had passed. They laughed, they teased, they joked, and remained serious when needed to. Until Chat Noir checked the time on his baton.

"Wow, it's really late," the designer said, retreating from the railing. "I should've been sleeping hours ago."

"That makes two of us," the man replied, backing as well. "I guess I should get going."

"Yeah," Marinette agreed. "But I'm very happy I got to see you. You have no idea how much I needed someone tonight."

"Me too," Chat Noir trailed off. Marinette's eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay, now it's my turn to ask: are you okay?" she asked. The man's gaze lowered to the ground.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he whispered honestly.

"You know, I know it's been eight years, but you can still trust me," she said, with a soft smile painting her lips. Chat Noir returned the gesture.

"I know," he assured her. "It's been eight years, and no one ever found out we used to hang out all the time."

"See, eight years and I still got my kitty cat's back," she chirped, teasingly. But the only thing that registered was her use of 'my'. He was sure she didn't mean much by it. If anything, it felt more like a throwback to how they used to be, as Marinette and Chat Noir. A side of her that she never let shine with his civilian self, and even less after what happened with his father. He never figured out whether it had been pity, or simply an inability to know how to handle it. The point was that, after that, she became distant with Adrien, but closer to Chat Noir. To the point of teasingly calling him hers.

"You haven't changed much, have you?" he said before he could stop himself. Marinette blinked, the amusement disappearing. Did I say something wrong?

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," she responded with a small voice.

"You haven't changed towards me," he amended, trying to return that wonderful smile of hers to her lips. "You're still as kind and caring as you always were back then, despite not knowing who I am. And you still manage to make me feel better about myself."

"Of course, you're the single, most important guy I've known." As soon as the words left her mouth, her lips turned into a line, like she had said a little more than intended. And the thought sent Chat Noir's heart into a frenzy. Never, in his whole life, did he think he would hear such words come out of Marinette. How did she mean it, though? Did she mean it in a platonic way or… more?

Adrien, what are you thinking, he chided himself, mentally. It doesn't matter how she meant it. It doesn't change anything. She's only here for a few days.

She's not staying.

He cleared his throat, ignoring how constricting his suit was suddenly feeling.

"Anyway, I should get going," he said, with little resolve.

"I know," she whispered. They stood for a moment, unsure of how to bid each other farewell. Especially, when neither knew if they'd see the other again. Without warning, Marinette threw her arms around Chat Noir's waist.

"I'll miss you," she said softly against his chest. Not needing a second thought, the man returned the gesture, laying his cheek on the crown of her head. Although she had grown a little through the years, she was still a head shorter than he was. She had always been one of the smallest in their class, and it didn't seem to have changed through the years.

They remained wrapped in each other for a while. Enough for Chat Noir to memorize the flowery smell of her hair. He never thought it was possible to get drunk on someone's scent, but at that moment, he was lost in a daze. It was a touch he had wanted for so long, yet never admitted it to himself.

She's not staying, his mind repeated. A reminder that, after tonight, he may never see her again. After tonight, he may never get to touch her again.

After tonight, she was gone.

So, when he arms started loosening, his heart jumpstarted, afraid. Without thinking, without a care in the world, and without letting go, Chat Noir kissed her.

Marinette froze. He could feel her muscles tense under his hands. And for a second, he didn't care. He didn't care that he did the stupidest, dumbest, most reckless thing he had ever done in his life. And that was saying a lot.

Their lips touched for what felt like a lifetime, but he knew it had only been seconds. The best seconds he had had in a very long time.

When they pulled away, Chat Noir was left in a momentary daze. That was, until the gravity of what he had just done came crashing down like a zeppelin during wartime.

"Marinette…" he whispered. His heart was banging in his chest; his breath came in nervous pants. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that…"

"Hey," Marinette placed her hands on his cheeks, "you have nothing to apologize for." She bit her lip, before she continued. "In fact… I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it myself."

Chat Noir's heartbeat accelerated even more. He saw something in her eyes he hadn't seen in a while: desire. What was more, he'd never seen it directed at his superhero persona. To the heir of the Gabriel fashion empire, plenty of times. He was a rich model, after all. But to the miraculous user, never.

But there was something else there, that not even as Adrien he had seen. There wasn't just lust in them. There was also a fondness he knew only Marinette was capable of. That everlasting kindness of hers, that despite whatever hardship she went through that made her leave, it still shone like the stars.

A look that, until now, he hadn't realized he had longed.

So, the moment her hands slid down to the collar of his suit and pulled him into a fierce kiss, he let go of all rational thought. Slowly, her hands slid from his clothing to the back of his neck, pulling him down more. Meanwhile, his own hands caressed her back, down to her hips. He was about to sink his fingers to them, but remembered he was still in his suit. Even so, Marinette didn't give him a chance.

With force he hadn't know she possessed, she pushed him up against the wall, just as her teeth sunk to his lower lip. His heart skipped a beat, sending a ragged breath out of him, and his body started getting warm in places it shouldn't. What was more, she wasn't making it any easier, with a knee rubbing against his thigh.

The touch made sparks run through his body. Chat Noir knew the best thing to do was to stop it right there and then. Yet, as he moved his hand, it did the exact opposite, sliding to the back of her knee and pulling it up to his hip. Marinette's breath hitched, momentarily breaking the kiss. Her eyes shifted back and forth, between his eyes and lips.

The intensity of her look was enough to push him back onto her, this time, brushing her lips with his tongue. Her response was instant, for the next second, their kisses became more than skin deep. The electricity that had started on his thigh was now running down his throat, like a drug he'd never known to be addicted to.

He was intoxicated. And from the heat radiating from Marinette, so was she.

"Chat…" she panted. Chat Noir responded with a hum, absentmindedly starting to pepper kisses from her jaw, down to her exposed neck. Whatever she was about to say, seemed to have died in her throat, releasing another pant instead. Each passing second, the two lost more sense of their surroundings, their breaths becoming more ragged, the heat becoming almost unbearable.

"Chat…" Marinette tried again, except this time, she lightly pulled him by the hair on the back of his head, forcing him to look at her.

"What is it?" he asked, slightly annoyed with the action. The feeling melted away, though, as he looked at the woman before him, biting her lip once again, and her bluebells focused on his lips. Chat Noir could have sworn he could sense what she was about to say, just by the way his heart started thundering in his ears.

"How quiet can you be?" she breathed, finally looking at him in the eyes. Chat Noir gulped. A part of him wanted to brush it off with a cat joke, but another part, a part that was desperate for the touch, wanted to follow her to the ends of the world.

He shouldn't do it. But he wanted to. Even if it was just for tonight. Because looking at it objectively (or so he tried to convince himself), after this, he would never see her again. Her life was in London, not Paris.

"It doesn't have to mean anything," Marinette suddenly started rambling. "It could just be a one-time thing, no strings attached. I promise I won't—"

But her words were cut off, as Chat Noir placed a clawed finger on her lips to shush her.

"There's no need to convince me, Princess," he whispered, internally surprising himself, again. "I can be as quiet as you need me to."

Slowly, he retracted his finger, exposing Marinette's lips in the shape of an 'o'. They stood still for a moment, until he felt the knee on his hip slide down his side. Then, her hands lowered to his, and started pulling towards the open hatch. Keeping her eyes on the leather-clad hero, Marinette lowered herself through the opening, letting go in the process. She sat on the pink sheets, her knees close to her chest, and her gaze expectant.

He could leave.

He could do it right there and then. Tell her he was sorry, that it was a bad idea, that what he was doing was wrong.

But he didn't want to.

So instead, Chat Noir lowered himself, placing his knees between her hips, making her lay back on her elbows and stretch out her legs. With the new kind of closeness, they resumed their make out session. Now, in the more secluded area, the temperature rose exponentially between them. A drop of sweat was making its way down his forehead, and he could feel his suit sticking to his body.

"Wait," he breathed, suddenly aware of himself. "H-how are we supposed to…" He cleared his throat. Normally, he wouldn't be embarrassed, but he'd never slept with someone as Chat Noir.

"Oh!" Marinette exclaimed, carelessly pushing him off and speeding down from the loft. As the noise of her rummaging through a drawer filled the room, Chat Noir couldn't help but wonder how Marinette spent years having to go up a flight of stairs just to get to bed. It seemed exhausting. How did she even make it without collapsing halfway?

The dumb questions sunk to the back of his head as Marinette stood at the end of the bed, holding a pink piece of fabric on her hands, and on top of it, a thin, square packet.

"I don't have a sleeping mask, but I think this will do," she explained.

"Kinky." The joke escaped his lips before having time to think it through. Lucky for Chat Noir, Marinette rolled her eyes with an amused groan. Although he had seen the gesture a million times years ago, he couldn't help but see it in a more sensual light this time. Almost teasing.

He couldn't take it. In an impulsive move, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up to the bed. A yelp escaped her lips, which he quickly muffled when he recaptured her lips, just as fiercely as before, if not more. Marinette gladly returned the kiss, running her fingers through his hair, accidentally undoing his ponytail.

Blindly, the blond felt around the mattress for the discarded piece of fabric. He broke away to lift it to her face, but stopped before placing it on her eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked softly. Marinette took a deep breath.

"I get the feeling I should be the one asking that question," she responded. "Are you sure about this?"

Chat Noir gulped. "No," he answered honestly, making Marinette tense underneath him. "But I want it, regardless of the consequences."

The blue-haired woman blinked. Slowly, she nodded, and Chat Noir tied the makeshift blindfold. He sat on his knees, took a deep breath, and whispered the words he hadn't said in a long time in front of Marinette: "Plagg, detransform me."

A magical green light invaded the pink walls. The leather cat outfit disappeared, replaced by a grey buttoned up shirt and high tops, and burgundy pants. And a small, black creature was now floating in front of Adrien's face with a frown.

"Kid, this is a bad idea," he spoke, before Adrien got a chance to. It was the blond's turn to frown.

"That's not your decision to make," he snapped. Without missing a beat, he took out his phone and headphones and shoved them to the cat-like being. It was a system they worked out back in his early twenties, when he became sexually active. So Plagg wouldn't have to suffer through unwanted sex noises. "I'm not asking."

Plagg gave him one last disapproving look, but flew up to the bookcase above Marinette's bed, anyway. It wasn't his decision after all.

"You know," Marinette started, "when Plagg shows concern for something, he usually has a good reason for it."

"Not this time," Adrien finalized, hoping the night could continue. Marinette opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, like she had chosen not to argue.

"May I?" she asked instead, now sitting and running her hands over his chest.

"Yes," he responded, breathless. Delicately, the designer started unbuttoning his shirt. One of her palms snaked its way inside the clothing, and then her lips followed around his collarbone. The sensation was enough to push away all worries he had had moments before.

Once again, the two became entranced in the moment. They started discarding each other's clothes, until nothing was left. The only thing warming them was each other. Their hands kept feeling as much as they could, from their hairs, to the areas beneath their waists. Their lips ran wild against each other's skins. There was only one thing left.

Cautiously, Adrien opened the blue packet, making sure not to break the condom inside. After making sure it was well in place, he leaned towards Marinette, raising one of her legs in the process.

"You can still back out," he whispered into her ear.

"I don't want to," she assured him, with the firmest tone he had ever heard come from her. Something that made him smile against her skin. Slowly, he raised his head to press his lips against hers, and took the final step.

A muffled moan resonated through the room. A sound Adrien had never known he'd wanted to hear so bad. Yes, he had acquired a crush on her in his last months in lycée, and even fantasized about getting this far, but never thought it would actually happen. Much less, when she was no longer living in Paris. Just the thought of it made him lose himself more in the moment. Their movements became faster, louder.

Adrien had to place a palm on Marinette's mouth, hoping her parents hadn't heard anything. But after a while, Marinette had to do the same for him. While he'd had his share of experience, there was something about her that made this time feel like more. More than a mere one-night stand.

It was a fantasy come true. One he hadn't thought about in years. It was like he was giving something he owed to his eighteen-year-old self.

The temperature rose, their movements became more erratic, and their sweat mixed. They became so lost and filled with adrenaline, Adrien could barely feel Marinette's teeth sink into his fingers.

Suddenly, they stopped. A muffled groan was heard from the blond, right as his forehead fell to the crook of her neck. His hand fell to the side of her head and, after his moans of pleasure ceased, she did the same. They panted, but didn't move for a minute. At last, Adrien managed to catch some of his breath.

"D-did you…?" he started, and took a deep breath, yet he didn't feel the need to continue. From his position, he heard saliva go down Marinette's throat, already letting him know the answer.

"It's okay," she breathed. "Don't worry about it. You don't have to—"

But her words were cut off by a loud gasp that Adrien had to quickly cover with his palm once again. He had anticipated the answer, so he slid his hand between them, to the most sensitive part of her body. Because there was no way he was leaving without giving her the same pleasure she gave him.

A few more minutes passed, and it became harder and harder for him to keep Marinette as quiet as possible. Until at last, she became undone beneath him. She was once again biting his fingers, so hard, that Adrien thought his skin might break. They were panting once more, and the blond took the moment to drink in the view of the woman before him.

Her twin tails had become messy, her bangs were sticking to her forehead, and drops of sweat were damping the fabric over her eyes.

She was beautiful.

Her glow was so clear, even in the darkness of her room, only disturbed by the rays of moonlight entering through the open hatch. It was a view he never thought to have the privilege to experience. To see the only other woman he'd considered telling his secret identity to, but left before he ever could.

Maybe… he could…

But his thumb stopped just at the edge of the fabric. He could feel Marinette tense. This wonderful, kind woman who made him feel like he mattered. Like he wasn't some goal or prize to achieve. Who treated him like an actual person.

"No," he said out loud. As much as he wanted to... "I can't… You're a good person. You don't deserve to carry such a burden."

Marinette's eyebrows furrowed, but nodded nonetheless.

I really don't deserve such understanding, he thought, the gravity of the situation falling hard inside him, once again. He got off the bed and started getting dressed. From the corner of his eye, he could see Marinette covering herself with the pink blanket. When he was sure every piece of clothing was back on his body and hers was well covered, he scratched the back of Plagg's head. The kwami looked down at his charge, still with disapproval, but said nothing.

For the moment, Adrien didn't want to talk about it. Much less where Marinette could hear. So he simply placed his phone and headphones back in his pocket and transformed back to Chat Noir.

"You can take it off now," he quietly announced. At last, those wonderful blue eyes were once again looking at him, and, once again, he couldn't find it in him to regret what had just happened.

"Chat, are you okay?" she asked. Chat Noir couldn't help but give her the widest of smiles. No, he definitely didn't regret it. She was worth it.

"Never better," he answered sincerely. "Sadly, this cat's gotta run."

Marinette rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.

"Same ol' Chat, huh?" she snickered.

"Some things never change," he responded quietly, doing his best to cover the other side of his feelings in that moment. "Well," he started, clearing his throat, readying to climb up the skylight, "I should get going."

"Wait," Marinette softly raised a palm. Chat Noir paused, one of his legs propped up. The designer got up to her knees to reach his eye level. Slowly, she pulled on his bell to give him one last passionate kiss.

When she broke it, the blond took a deep breath, enjoying what would probably be the last he would inhale of the woman in front of him.

"Good night, Chat Noir," she whispered, her breath tickling his jaw. Chat Noir bit his lip, before bidding her good night back. Her hand let go of the shiny ball, and the superhero willed himself out of her room.

Once outside, he took one last look at the half-naked woman before waving good-bye and closing the hatch. He hopped away to another nearby building and started heading home.

With the fresh air beating at his face, he found the time to properly process what had just happened. He couldn't believe it. Never, in a million years, did he ever think he would have a one-night stand with Marinette. Much less, under these circumstances…

The blue-haired designer stared at the skylight on top of her bed in a daze. She couldn't believe what had just happened, but she was so happy for it. She had to admit, she had fantasized about it sometimes when she still lived in Paris. Especially after what happened with the defeat of Hawkmoth. It became hard to think about Adrien at the time without feeling guilty.

She still felt guilty. But that's something I shouldn't be thinking about, for the time being. It will only make these three days harder.

A sigh escaped her lips, but she quickly straightened up.

"You have everything ready for tomorrow?" the tiny voice of Tikki broke through her thoughts. Marinette couldn't help but smile. Sometimes she swore the little creature could read her mind and know when she needed a distraction.

"I think so," she responded as she put her pajamas back on. She shuffled downstairs to her old desk. Sometimes, it still amazed her how her parents kept her room just as it was. She took a quick glance at her wardrobe, where a long pink dress could be partly seen. She turned her attention back to a green box. Carefully, she opened it to make sure the wedding garter with the green ribbon was still there.

She lightly huffed, thinking about who it was for. Although it had been years, she still couldn't help but think that her job could sometimes be a hazard. She shook her head and gave a low chuckle. Eh, whatever. If it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't be here to have one of the best nights I've had in a long time.

As she placed the box back where it was, she looked at the invitation next to it. She fidgeted her fingers for a moment, finally caving into looking at it one more time. Marinette took out the cotton paper from the envelope, once again huffing at the extravagant golden lettering, but well, what else should she have expected? She read it for the hundredth time.

CHLOÉ BOURGEOIS

AND

ADRIEN AGRESTE

INVITE YOU TO THE CELEBRATION OF

THEIR MARRIAGE

Leave it to Chloé to throw such an exaggeration of a wedding.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You can follow me in tumblr by their-destinys-writer and twitter by TDestinysWriter.