Her eyes blurred over the continuous sentences. Napoleon Bonaparte rose to power... Napoleon Bonaparte... Napoleon...Nap. Mmm...nap. "Dammit, Marinette, wake up." She traced the red blurs around her eyes in a hopeless attempt to clear them away. The steady tick of her parents old clock lumbered up the steps in an endless nagging. Why had Paris needed saving the night before her history final?

The dull screen light fell across the scattered belongings of her room, illuminating the debris along with the shattered moonlight. Marinette watched the staggered lines cross the depressed shadows with a balanced pirhouette. She knew this stuff anyways, didn't she? Besides, the bed was warm now from the laptop and her blankets were soft and it was all... so... nice. Sleep...mmm... sleep. The increased length in her blinking slowed and slowed until she was closing her eyes. Just for a minute, then she would be right back to work. Besides, she couldn't think now anyways.

Tap tap. Dammit. Who had the nerve...? Tendrils of darkness clutched her eyes downwards back into the sweet dark warmth of subconsciousness. Mmm...

Tap tap tap. "Come in." she murmured lightly, turning away from the moonlight. Tap tap. "Marinette isn't home right now, please leave a message after the beep. Beeep."

"Come on, Princess, let me in." The wind shuttered over her in a light soft voice. "Marinette." "Yes Honey?" "Marinette let me in."

Her eyes shattered open to the darkened figure in her window. "Chat, what the hell...?" White flashed in the moonlight as the figure grinned. "Hello to you too, Sleeping Beauty. Now open this window, would you darling?"

"Screw you." She rolled over, cuddling deeper into her cat shaped pillow. Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap "You're unbearable, you know that?" She shot up, wrapping her blanket tightly around her waist because she wasn't wearing bottoms and like hell Chat Noir was going to find out that she wore Winnie the Pooh panties.

He leaned against his stick, which he had jammed into the windowframe. "Miss me, Princess?"

"I can barely keep my hands off of you" a low sleep-hoarse growl slumbered from her lips. She retired to sit back onto her paper strewn bed.

"I don't blame you." He slunk to her desk, crouching softly on top of it and yawning.

"Remind me, why did I invite you here at 2 am? Oh, yes, I didn't. Because that would be insane."

"I can't help it you're crazy for me."

"What do you want Chat?"

"Only you." He purred, sinking deeper into the desktop contentedly. She sighed. "Well, we're all sold out, so maybe it's time you leave."

"I wish your comebacks were better. It's no fun to banter by myself."

"Chat, do I have to reiterate: it's 2 am. 2. a. m. 2 in the morning. So unless there is a world emergency, please get out of my house."

He snuffed, tilting his head at an attempt of patheticness. "Sorry, princess, I didn't want to bother you. It's just... I just wanted to talk to someone." Damn, he was being genuine. Marinette's eyes followed the path of his body as he slid across the room to the windowframe. The leather rippled against his frame.

"Come here, you idiot. And throw me those pajama bottoms." She caught them smoothly and slid them up her thighs beneath the blanket. He filled the spot beside her and curled up against the warmth. She liked the way his legs tucked in next to hers.

"Thanks, princess" his voice was gruff with the whisper. She slid a hand through the gold of his head and absently scratched. Damn this boy.

His throat was thick with the sound of pleasure and vulnerability of this position. It took a moment to speak. "Have you ever been in love?"

He watched bluebell eyes flicker to the walls with darkened pictures of a boy whose face he couldn't see from this distance. "Yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah." The steady beat of her fingertips settled into his scalp. "Have you?"

He sunk further into her. "Yes."

"Is that why you're here?"

"Yes."

"Does she love you back?"

The moonlight flickered in the presence of a cloud, and they were silent.

"Sometimes, don't you wish it could just be us, princess? Then it would be easy, and it wouldn't hurt anymore."

"Yes" she mouthed against his head. "Yes I do" but he couldn't hear the shape of her lips. She watched him settle deeper as he thought of the dream girl in his head, and she thought of Adrien and how she wished that she could speak to him like how she spoke to this stray at her window. She slowly wrapped her blanket around the both of them, and they lay together watching the ceiling as they spoke.

"What's he like? Loverboy."

"I don't know. Kind. Handsome. Smart. Perfect."

"The usual."

"I guess. Her?"

"Everything. She's... everything."

"So, the usual?"

He smiled. "More or less."

The warmth settled in the moonlight between them. Marinette felt the pleasant weight of her eyelids droop softly as they lay together, but she was no longer in a rush to sleep. She thought dimly that she could love this cat if she wasn't in love with someone else.

"They say people don't own people. But they do. She does."

"Well, people do own cats."

The white of his teeth flickered widely. "I guess that makes me an exception, then."

"I guess." He turned to her and wrote and rewrote the contours of her face with his eyes, like he was memorizing the way she was. "What?" She mirrored him and met his eyes.

"How is it you're the one with a broken heart? Girls like you... they don't get heartbroken."

"What do you mean, girls like me?"

"Beautiful girls."

A blush surfaced behind the galaxy of freckles on her cheeks. "I guess there's your answer. I'm not a beautiful girl."

He smiled wearily. "You don't know."

"Or you don't."

His slick grin returned. "Oh, I know, princess."

She watched his jawline and the way the muscles danced in every line he spoke. "We're just two losers, aren't we Chat? Two losers with broken hearts and no one but each other."

"I don't think that deal is too bad." He pushed her bangs from her eyes, and continued the movement. Down her forehead to her cheek, her jaw, her lips.

"No?" she watched his mouth now, watched the way it formed words before he even spoke.

"No."

His hand reached the back of her head and stayed there while they watched each other, tracing circles into her hair. "Princess..." he whispered. Their eyes met again for a moment, before returning to each other's lips.

"Chat." She mouthed before the pressure came, pulling all of her into him. And it felt good, strong, she could feel the muscles in his chest, his jaw. He was soft and sweet and tasted tenderly of the night. Then he pulled away and the moonlight rushed in.

"Sorry. I-I didn't. I just thought-"

"-it's ok. No, no, it's ok." Her hand landed gently against the moonlight skin, rubbing soothing patterns behind his eye. No, it was fine, she thought. But she belonged to Adrien. He was right, she just belonged to him. She was someone's Marinette, and he was someone's Chat.

But it was good. Damn, it was good.

"I think I could have fallen in love with you, Marinette, if I still had a heart to give away."

"You're all sold out, I guess."

He chuckled lightly and held her hand against his cheek. "Why were we meant to be broken?"

"We just are."

They awoke to the sound of a beeping coming from his hand. "I have to go" he whispered into her ear.

"I know."

He slunk out into the moonlight, leaning against his pole and looking into her room one last time.

"And really, Princess, Winnie the Pooh?" He didn't wait to see her blush.