A/N: I don't own MLB or any of the characters! Hope you enjoy this experiment I did with poetic prose. :)

love, le-charme-miraculeuse

He would always remember that day as the day his world changed.

The city was under attack and everything was still new to him—from roll call, to school friends, to the black cat he was now becoming. He had so much to learn and he didn't want to stop. After fourteen years of being trapped and caged, he could feel a monumental transformation finally happening in his life; the pieces were shifting, the cards were falling into place.

But as much as he wanted to save Paris, he needed her, too.

"I'm really not cut out to be a super-heroine!"

Shoulders slumped, voice cracking, she had hid her face in her hands. One mistake and she started doubting herself. His heart had gone out to her then, for how could someone he knew could be so competent think herself a failure?

So he shared with her his confidence, willing her to know that saving just one life made all the difference in the world—and that he admired her for it. He watched as her expression changed from disbelief into something else. Something brighter.

"Alright?"

"Alright."

She uncovered her face and dared to hope—that's the least he ever wanted for her. She must have taken his words to heart, because when Paris needed her the most, she clapped her hands and stepped up to the plate, and there was not a hint of fear in her eyes.

Her eyes.

A minute before, they had been darkened, overcast by the shadow of her own disappointment as she hid them away behind trembling fingers. But when she stood up to Hawkmoth and walked forward—a small lone figure in the wake of the looming Eiffel Tower—her eyes shone, brilliant and blue as the sky. It was the sun rising after a starless night, and as he stared at her flying up and swinging her yo-yo in a deliberate dance, he knew she would become one of the brightest lights to his own night.

"I'm making a promise to all of you!"

Her voice grew strong and self-assured, and he knew without a doubt that if she spoke like that for the rest of their lives, he would trust and believe every promise she'll ever make.

"No matter who tries to hurt you, Ladybug and Chat Noir will do everything in their power to help you!"

The loud ripple of a hundred flapping butterflies, purified and snow white, pulsed through the air and in his stomach. He wondered why the sound of their flutter seemed to reverberate in his chest and it wasn't long before he realized it was the feverish pounding of his own heart. As she stood there in the heart of Paris with open arms and every eye upon her, he could have sworn his skipped three beats.

Wow.

Her lips curved into a smile that rivaled the sun's, her jet-black hair glinted in the afternoon light, and as he gazed up at her, he saw it. His mother's green eyes crinkling at the corners and her golden hair falling down at her shoulder in curls. The picture of home, comfort, and above all, hope.

And in that moment, he knew.

It doesn't matter who's under that mask—I love her.

Ever since then, he looked forward to seeing her, to teasing her, to making her laugh. She had to keep laughing, because whether she knew it or not, he needed her to. Because no matter what has happened or will happen to him, that day will always be important. He will always remember it as the day he found that same radiant and glorious smile in his life again.

-el fin-