He really shouldn't be here. He knows that.

But what's the use of a school dance if he can't even dance with her. If he can't say 'Dance with me, princess.' and enjoy the night holding her in his arms. But he couldn't, not as Adrien. They weren't good enough friends to even make jokes about dancing together without the threat of awkwardness following.

Even when he flirted with her as Adrien she would tighten up, raising her shoulders and talk about getting air.

Which lead him here.

To the place he really shouldn't be.

Transformed into Chat, in a secluded corner of the school, in a space used for storage, holding her close and inches away from kissing her absolutely senseless.

He's curled around her, both arms around her shoulders with his head resting on hers.

"Why are you out here princess?"

The truth? She couldn't stop thinking about him, she couldn't stop thinking that he belonged next to her, dancing with her all dressed up in a suit and tie. Complementing her dress and keeping an arm around her waist to help her stay warm. She missed him, and she wanted him in there, she wants to know who he is and she wants him to know. She craves it so badly that the first reminder of Chat, a pickup line from Adrien, sent her stomach turning itself inside out painfully.

"I just needed some fresh air." she says instead. "The smell of perfume in there is so strong it's making my eyes water.

'Liar' his brain supplies

"I bet." he answers. He can still smell the perfume, despite being away from the center of the school, and the music reaches up to them as if trying to coax them back down.

Chat takes a step back from her, as painful as it is and holds out his hand to her.

She refuses to take it, and looks away instead.

"Please don't make me go back out there, I'll be dizzy."

'Please don't make me go out there and be without you for another two hours constantly dodging Alya's questions about why I'm not trying to dance with Adrien. Please don't leave me and let me stand alone on the sidelines as I watch people sway together keeping their hearts close together. Please don't make me act like I'm okay. Please don't leave me.'

Chat steps closer, and grabs a hold of Marinette's hand, prying it gently from where it is over her mouth, lest she say something close to her true feelings.

He pulls her towards him, and holds his waist with his other hand. He starts swaying to the faint music gently. Mari smiles at him, her eyes scrunch in at the corners.

As she looks at him her eyebrows push in, then her mouth turns down and her eyes brim with tears.

Chat brings a hand up to her face, kisses her cheeks when the tears fall and holds her waist fractionally tighter.

'I'm so sorry I can't be there for you. I'm sorry you have to go through this alone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you I promise.'

"Chat?" Marinette asks, voice just a whimper. It breaks his heart and he strokes her cheek. She leans into the touch. "Will you have this dance with me?"

He laughs, not because it's funny, but because she needs him to laugh right now.

"That's my line, princess." he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to her forehead. She hums.

"Will you though?"

"I'd be honored." he answers and she moves her hands to his shoulder, he moves his hands to her waist.

For a moment, they're just suspended. Hearts pressed together, floating and swaying gently to the music and every second Chat's joy grows.

She loves him she loves him she wants him near her.

He leans forward hunches over her a small purr starting up on his chest and his hands flexing and rolling on her hips. The material of her dress crinkles and he continues. Watching it wrinkle and straighten, gleam at this angle. He becomes so absorbed he barely notices when he falls out of rhythm and eventually gives up dancing altogether instead focusing on the shimmer of her dress and the feel of her hips under his hands.
She leans into him, eyes looking up and him looking down.

"Chat." she says.

"Yes, princess?"

"What are you doing?"

"Pawing you." he says like it's the simplest thing in the world. He's long learned to accept his cat like tendencies around her. She pulled them out of him and he could do nothing against it except go with the flow

"It feels like an excuse to feel me up." she replies.

Chat leans down, captures her lips in a gentle kiss. He pulls away and she presses her forehead into his shoulder.

"Do I knead an excuse to feel you up?"