Faster update! Yeah!

Heads up warning, soonish I'm going to be leaving for about a two week family vacation and I'm trying to get everything updated before the trip. So this may be the last update of Trouble in White for a while. I'm hoping to still get some writing in and have chapters ready when I return though; hopefully.

Thank you guys for reading and for your patience!

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"let us be grateful to the people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls bloom"

-Marcel Proust

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The pound of the rain matched Chat Blanc's current mood. Dreary, heavy, and nasty. The steady drip and drum of water filled the air like bullets, hammering down on the tarp that mostly covered the two lounge chairs, and sliding down in a rush of a waterfall, spilling onto the balcony floor. The lazy growl of thunder had his ears twitching, instinctively trying to locate the grumpy beast in the sky. A flash of lightning had him wincing, hurting his sensitive eyes. And the air itself was moist and cold and just down right unpleasant.

Chat released his own growl when lightning flickered; pulling his legs closer as he tried to shuffle further back into the lounge chair, like it could shield him from the storm.

Normally he would be hiding away in the vast halls of Notre Dame; only the thunder echoed too loudly in there for his ears; and the cold wind always found a way to slip in and bite at his face and make him shiver.

On a whim he came here instead, barely out of the elements and somewhat regretting this decision to wait it out here on Marinette's balcony.

"You should find the old man," Hawk Moth implored, frustration lacing his words.

Chat snapped, "He's not going to be out and about today." Nobody was. Everyone smart and lazy was hiding away in the towering buildings of Paris.

"He knew things Chat Blanc. He knew about Ladybug! Perhaps he knows where Chat Noir is. We need them both. You should find him Chat Blanc."

Chat growled. "I'm not going to look for him right now!" he stated. He did not want to get wet.

"He could lead us to the hero!"

"You want him enough, you look for him!"

He could hear Hawk Moth growling in his ear, faintly muttering about troublesome akumas. Chat didn't care to pay attention, glaring out at the wet Paris before him, tail flickering in agitation. When was it going to end?

Chat jumped at the sharp yelp that came from below.

While Hawk Moth broke the connection in disinterest, Chat jumped off his seat, peeking down into the trap down to check on her; and ignoring the rain that started to drum on his back.

He could see her standing next to her mannequin, pouting as she sucked her finger, glaring at the vest she was working on.

Chat sighed aloud.

She pricked herself.

Half growling, half whining as the water slid over him; he gave a useless shake before diving back onto his chair; grimacing as the cold wetness slid down his body.

He hated rain.

He was mostly settled in when the trapdoor cautiously opened, with Marinette peeking out at him curiously. "Chat Blanc?"

"Princess," he greeted back, wrinkling his nose as one drop slid down the bridge of it.

"...You want to come inside?"

The immediate answer should be yes. But the cat in him had him pausing; unsure if he really wanted too... that would mean stepping out from under the tarp...

Catching onto that, Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed. "Come in when you're ready," she said, slipping back into her room. Chat eyed the closed trapdoor, his ear twitching at one particular loud drop that fell. Casting a grim glance to the limited tarp above, he slowly got up, getting ready to brave the rain again and slip in.

Only to dive in at one nasty, loud thunder that bellowed at Paris.

Marinette looked up from her work as Chat slammed the trapdoor behind him, hissing at the sky.

"Off my bed!" she ordered, "There's towels in my vanity there!" She pointed across the room.

Chat Blanc quickly jumped down, pulling drawers open till he found the soft, plush towels she mentioned. He quickly snatched it out, patting his hair dry as quickly as he could; catching the wet drops that slid down his face and neck. He was working his way down to trying his suit when he jumped at another loud boom.

Marinette gave a start as well when she suddenly found Chat standing close, glaring at her window, ears down.

She followed his gaze, blinking at the dreary sky. "You don't like storms?" she guessed.

"Never," he said, slowly resuming his drying. "Not before, certainly not now." He sent her a grimace. "The thunder hurts my ears, the lightning is too bright, and the water is uncomfortable."

"Poor Minou," she murmured, then offered, "well, you can stay here till it passes... or I guess whenever your ready to leave." Cats come and go as they pleased; Blanc seemed no different.

Humming appreciatively, Chat set the damp towel in the sink, spreading it out so it would dry before hopping over and flopping down on her chaise, purple eyes locked on her as she sewed a button onto the vest.

"What you working on?" he asked.

"A vest for my friend. She wanted a bit more style when she races."

He hummed, disinterested. Instead he watched her work, watch her hands weave and slid over the material, shaping it, decorating it. It was fascinating. He didn't remember seeing wonders like this from his father. The most he ever saw were the sketches, and even then, he could only see them if he was allowed too. It got too a point that his father didn't care for an audience anymore.

He liked being able to see her work.

Rubbing his face over the soft mattress of the chaise and getting comfortable; Chat silently watched her, ignoring the quieting storm as he observed her. He didn't remember his father being so expressive either when he worked.

Her face would pinch up. Her nose scrunched, her tongue would stick out in a cute blep; and her eyes would widen and shine when she saw a detail that she liked on the vest.

It was cute, and relaxing.

And with this warm atmosphere of this room, Chat snuggled closer to the chaise, his purple eyes slowly hidden by heavy lids.

"Done!" Marinette declared happily, her fingers covered in little red pricks. Turning to Chat to ask for his opinion, she found the akuma asleep on her chaise, curled up slightly. Like before, she tugged out a light sheet and settled it over him before grabbing her cell and sending Alix a text, informing that her vest was done.

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"You're looking good."

Marinette jumped, turning around to see Ivan standing awkwardly behind her. Surprised, she stammered, "I-I am." Quickly shaking herself out of her reverie, she flashed him a small, bright smile. "It's been a while!"

He hummed in agreement.

"...Is there something I can get for you?"

Blinking down at her, he quickly looked around the slightly crowded bakery, unsure. "Um... a small bag of cookies? I-I don't care what."

"Nothing beats classic chocolate chip!" she chirped, going around the counter and starting to gather a small handful of cookies for him. "How are things at school?" she asked absently.

"It's the same," Ivan said, kicking his foot out, staring down at the floor.

Setting the tongs down, she frowned as she closed up the paperbag, glancing up at him. "Has... has it gotten better for you?" she asked carefully.

Ivan blinked at her and looked away, shaking his head with a dark frown. He mumbled something under his breath, grabbing his wallet and handing over the money for the cookies, accepting them.

He didn't leave like she expected.

"It's ridiculous," he said.

Marinette blinked at him, tilting her head curiously.

"You're not even the akuma, you're just..."

She cracked a sad smile. "Just his soulmate," she confirmed gently.

"And your not even doing anything."

"Your not doing anything either," she points out.

He stared down at the bag of cookies, fiddling with the paper. "It's ridiculous," he repeated.

"It is," she agreed.

"How, how are you taking it? You actually got suspended." He didn't because he wasn't... not anymore. Though Chloe did try.

Marinette stared down at the counter, frowning as she considered her experience. "It... it was a blow," she confessed. "I'm not even the akuma and yet I'm a hazard enough that I can't be there. It, it is ridiculous." She sighed, shoulders drooping. "I even mentioned this to Chat once, and he was delighted. He, he didn't get it."

"You want to go back?"

"I would rather," she confirmed, biting her lip. She missed Alya. She didn't see her as often as she wanted. She missed Nino and the music he'd play during lunch. Rose and Juleka talking about fashion with her, comparing and offering different design ideas and styles. She even missed Kim and his boasts of being able to do everything. "For now, nothing much I can do about it. Just, rolling with whatever comes, you know?"

He hummed.

She glanced up at him, chewing on her lip absently as Ivan took out a cookie, starting to nibble on it.

"M-maybe," she managed out, drawing his grey eyes to her, "well; I can't change my situation. But, you, you could. Maybe you should?"

He blinked her. "Change my situation?" he asked.

"You're not an akuma anymore," she pointed out, "that was a few months ago. You, you should get past it."

Staring at her in surprise, Ivan's face twisted up as he growled, "Nobody wants to get past it."

"I know," she mumbled, looking down, ashamed. "I didn't even try to reach out to you either. But, but I still think you should. Even if no one else wants to reach out, you can." Some step had to be made. Glancing at the paperbag in his grasp, she flashed him a confident smile, teal eyes gleaming. "Mylene likes chocolate chip cookies," she told him, "offer one."

Ivan shook his head. "She's not going to accept it."

"Try first," she pressed.

He was quiet at that.

Smiling, she said, "I'd be happy to see you drop by again."

He nodded, slipping out as he nibbled on his cookie, contemplative.

Across the bakery, an old man smiled at what he saw.

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She made a mistake.

She should never have told Chat that he could stay as long as he wished.

The damn cat was now hogging her bed. Every time she came up, he was there, lying on her mattress, curled up against her cat plush, and occasionally flipping through her sketchbooks, pure interest shining in his eyes as he looked over her older designs and sketches. Only time he left it was when she was ready for bed did he slip out of it, though it sometimes took a few pillow smacks. And depending on the weather, he either slipped outside to his lounge chair, or he flopped down on the chaise below.

She didn't think having a soulmate would mean she would wind up adopting a cat.

Evidently for her case, it did.

Coming up to her room, arms heavy from moving heavy pastries about, stirring, and bringing out orders; she was ready to just flop back and relax. Climbing up to her loft to see Chat Blanc nestled on it, she didn't have the energy to care anymore as she flopped down beside him, pulling the end of her cat plush to her to hug. So tired, she couldn't even feel Chat's eyes on her.

But she did feel him move.

Like before his claws lightly rested over her back, sharp points that could very easily pierce through her shirt and bite into her skin.

She still had yet to get scratched.

With no signal for a no, Chat started to knead away at her back, chasing the aches away and earning happy, tired hums from her.

"What do you do down there?" he asked, his voice soft as he worked.

"I move heavy stuff," she mumbled out.

Chat paused, eyeing her oddly. Marinette glanced up at him, raising a dark brow. "I'm stronger than I look," she insisted, cracking a smile. "I bet I could lift you."

Grinning, Chat dropped down till his face was angled close to hers, purple eyes gleaming. "I'd like to see you try," he purred. Her eyes flickered competitively as she shared his smile, before she noted how close he was, his warm breath tickling her cheek. She sucked in a breath. She stared into his purple eyes, he peered back into her blue; both soaking in the details of the other. Marinette's heart started to speed, nerves and excitement sparking from the closeness, a tingling warmth spreading through her. A welcomed sensation to the discomforting pains from before.

One claw stayed on her back, absent in it's kneading as Chat drunk her in. The flush on her cheeks, the blue embers that flared in her eyes, the freckles painted over her nose and cheeks. Even with the bit of flour on her forehead and in her hair, and the sweat clinging to her skin from her work; she looked beautiful. His eyes flickered down to her lips, almost hidden by her arm, parted slightly below her wide eyes.

Slowly, he leaned down, nose touching her warm cheek.

She shifted back, rising slightly and turning to mee-

"MARI OH MY GOD I GOT NEWS!"

Both jumped when the trapdoor from below burst open as Alya popped in.

And froze there, her smile stiff as her golden brown eyes locked on the two occupants above.

One being a very unwelcomed sight.

Something he echoed as he gave a displeased hiss down at this girl that dared come into this room, and dared interrupt them.

Marinette tried to get up, only to be shoved down by Chat as he dropped over her, dodging the book Alya threw his way. "Don't you worry Mari! I'll save you!"

"Alya!" the noirette cried, trying to get up. Not that the akuma was allowing it, growling from where he was crouched over her. Recognizing that he was about to pounce, with a great burst of strength, Marinette forced herself up, unintentionally jabbing the back of her head into Chat's nose and leaving the two cringing from the bruise.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch," Marientte whimpered, rubbing the back of her head while Chat hissed and yowled behind her, flopping about on the bed as he rubbed his nose.

Cracking her eyes open, Marinette cringed to see that Alya was ready to throw her heavy bookbag up here.

Pointing down to her best friend, she ordered, "Don't you dare throw that!"

Alya snapped, "He was on top of you!"

"He wasn't attacking me! We were-" Marinette cut herself off, going red at the realization. "None of your business!" she squeaked out, quickly grabbing her cat plush and hiding her face in it's soft belly.

"Oh my god," Alya uttered below.

Chat growled behind Marinette, sitting up and resting his claws on her shoulders, glaring down at Alya from behind his soulmate.

Groaning, she dropped the plush and weakly offered, "Alya, this is my soulmate Chat Blanc. Chat, this is my best friend Alya." Who was probably going to hound her for this. She was not going to get away unscratched no matter what.

Chat wrinkled his nose down at her.

Alya peered up at him distrustfully.

Marinette cringed as the two glared at each other.

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The akuma refused to leave the room. And didn't want Marinette to leave either when he gave an unhappy hiss when Alya tried to drag her downstairs since she didn't want to be in the same room as the akuma.

The compromise was that Chat got the bed to himself while the girls talked in the room below. Well, whispered since Alya didn't want the akuma to hear. When she thought that Chat was fully immersed in the sketchbooks Marinette gave him, she dived into her discovery.

"Someone actually got a picture of the hero!" she whispered excitedly, flashing a picture towards Marinette.

The noirette glanced up at Chat, still occupied in the pages of her drawings, before taking the cell and seeing this hero.

The image was blurry, and the figure was dark; but she could make out green on him; and the shine of orange golden eyes. "That's pretty wild," she said, handing the cell back.

"Isn't it?!" Alya pressed, jumping about where she sat on the chaise. Glancing up at the akuma, she leaned forward and whispered, "Maybe he's looking for Chat Blanc." She flashed Marinette an encouraging smile. "Maybe he's going to fix him soon!"

"Maybe," she agreed, sparing a glance up at Chat Blanc.

She was still hopeful. To see his face without the mask. To not see his face twist in easy rage every time something he didn't like happen.

Sparing a glance up at him once more, Alya pressed, "So... what was that?"

"What?"

"It looked like he was on top of you...?" Alya raised a high brow. "Should I be concerned?"

Marinette sighed and shook her head. "No," she promised, "it's nothing. Really. He's not going to hurt me. We're... just doing what can for now."

"Your not going to wait till-"

"No."

Alya frowned. "Mari, I love you girl; but personally, I think you shou-" She was cut off when a pillow hit her in the face, surprising the red head enough that she fell off the chaise.

"Chat!" Marinette scolded.

"I didn't do anything," he comments from above, not facing them at all.

Alya growled from the ground. "Why I-"

"You know what," Marinette cuts off, "I'm hungry. Lets go snack on some croissants." Grabbing her best friend before she could protest, Marinette dragged Alya to the trapdoor, her pillow held securely in the other hand. When Chat sent them a displeased hiss, Marinette threw the pillow back at his face. Scrunching his nose, Chat glared down to the closed trapdoor before he turned back to her sketchbooks and started to moodily flip through them.

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Marinette suspected that Chat was upset with her for leaving and throwing a pillow at his face. The akuma didn't acknowledge her when she came up, keeping his back to her. Unbothered, she jumped onto her bed, ignoring his growl as it bounced.

"I'm happy," she declared.

She saw one of his ears twitch.

She didn't know if that was a happy twitch or not.

She went on, "Apparently Ivan and Mylene are starting to talk a little more." She was practically wiggling in her spot, beaming.

Chat rolled onto his back, eyeing her. "Who?"

"Ivan, he was one of the first akumas ever made. He gave the city quite a scare."

"The golem," Chat put in. Stoneheart. He was the first.

"Yeah. The hero cleansed him, but the damage was done. A lot of people avoid him now." She looked down at her mattress, ashamed. "I was one of those people. It was just... unnerving. But, he dropped by today to check up on me and, I tried to return the favor, make up for avoiding him like everyone else. Mylene is a girl he likes, and I'm happy to hear that they were hanging out talking. Maybe he won't be... so avoided anymore."

Chat was quiet for a moment, staring out her trapdoor to the dark sky above.

"Is it that bad?" he grumbled.

Marinette gave a start, turning to him curiously.

"Me being an akuma?" he elaborated.

"Oh," she mumbled, fiddling with the blanket edge. Licking her lips nervously, she confessed, "I'm not going to lie to you. I, I do wish that we met when you weren't an akuma."

He narrowed his eyes. "It's because you're scared of me? I told you that you don't-"

"Of course I was scared of you. Akumas, you; you didn't exactly seem like a cute cuddly kitten when we first met Chat. Akumas always give Paris some sort of scare."

He growled.

"Honestly you still make me nervous. Not as much as before, but I still get wary of how you're going to react to something... or someone," she went on. He rolled back onto his side, his shoulders looming in her vision.

"I told you," he said to the wall, "I'm not going to hurt you. You have no reason to fear."

"You still scare Paris-"

"I don't care if Paris is scared."

"Paris being scared would make it hard to be together," she warned.

He scoffed. "Good thing we don't need the city to be together." They could tremble and quiver in his shadow all they wanted. He was sure he wasn't going to stay once he was free of Hawk Moth.

Marinette sighed beside him, plucking the blanket edge. "Are you going to go after the hero?" she asked.

"If I find him, yes."

"What if he's successful?"

"He won't be."

She was quiet for a minute, staring at the small shelf she had above her bed. Absently, she said, "I want to know what you look like."

Chat paused beside her. He rolled back to her, squinting. "You can clearly see me," he said.

"Do I?" she echoed, shifting to her side and facing him. She reached out, slow like before, letting him draw away if he didn't want her touch. When he didn't, she gently took a strand of his hair, curling the soft golden threads around her finger. "I know akumas change appearances. Sometimes really drastically. I wonder if you really do have blond hair." She released it, hand gliding to his cheek.

Chat's eyes widened as she lightly traced the rim of his mask, the sensation of her finger gliding over the rim of skin and fabric was a pleasing tickle.

"Do you have any marks on your skin? Freckles? A mole? A scar?" She paused, looking into his eyes. "Are your eyes really purple?"

She let her hand fall away, curling it close to her as she peered at him, soaking him in. "I know who Chat Blanc looks like, but I don't know who you look like."

Peering at her, he shifted so that he was facing her; their noses almost brushing.

He confirmed, "I am blond. I sadly don't have any marks on my skin. No cute freckles like you do. No moles. And certainly no scars."

Like her, he shyly reached for her.

Marinette stayed still, keeping her eyes locked on his.

Chat gently took some of her hair, rolling it between his fingers, looking like he was trying to imagine it's feel under his gloves.

"My eyes were green," he said.

Intrigued, she slid closer, asking, "What sort of green?"

He shrugged, looking away as his cheeks colored. "Just green," he said.

She hoped she would get to see them someday.

Turning his gaze back to her, he requested, "Can I take you to Notre Dame this weekend?"

She shifted nervously at the request, still unnerved to be that high up. He continued, "I want to share with you too; I enjoy heights, being above Paris. It's quiet, it's... free. No one can reach you there. I'd like you to see it, to feel it." He dropped her hair, bringing his hand back close to him. "I know it scares you, but believe me, it's worth it."

Marinette peered at him.

Chat peered back, patient.

She gave a stiff nod. "Ok," she whispered.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. "You won't fall," he promised softly, "I'll be there."

She nodded against him, giving him a shaky smile. "I trust you."

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