Chapter 10

Despite many hours passing since the encounter in the study, Marinette woke up the next day and still found her lips to be tingling from the criminal's kiss. Even though she had scrubbed her mouth with soap at least ten times, she could still taste a hint of mint on her bottom lip.

She had no idea why, their kiss couldn't have lasted longer than three seconds. She should've been able to walk away, no strings attached, yet she still couldn't get the taste and memory of him out of her mind.

Not to mention he had alluded to knowing her before all this happened. He hinted at it quite a few times since her stay here. She racked her brain trying to figure out when their meeting occurred, but couldn't come up with anything definite.

Then again, he could be doing it just to mess with her. He was a trickster, after all.

She closed her eyes in the shower and tilted her head back, letting the water rinse out the foamy shampoo from her hair. Her fingers sifted through her raven locks, helping the water get at every inch of her scalp.

When finished, she couldn't help but step back and simply let the warm water cascade over her body as she thought. This was the most relaxing place in the whole mansion, even more relaxing than her bed and sewing room. Here she was guaranteed to be alone, free to let her mind wander with no interruptions.

She sighed, deciding she had just about enough with thinking about that mangy cat. He was too cryptic to understand, she barely had any answers and here she was trying to be a detective and put what limited clues she had together to crack the code on him.

Her mind strayed to thoughts of home. Did everyone think she was dead? How were her parents? The bakery? How was the school taking her absence? Alya? Nino?

The young designer snorted at another idle question.

Did she ever get accepted at the Erika Carp fashion school? Her letter of acceptance or rejected should've arrived at her house by now.

Thoughts of her parents and friends resurfaced to the forefront of her mind. If only there was a way to get in contact with them. She had her cellphone, but there wasn't any reception or wi-fi here. The device was only good for playing games and checking the time.

Briefly, she wondered if perhaps she could send a letter to them, letting them know she was alright. It didn't her long to become discouraged however, knowing that Chat Noir most likely wouldn't allow her to have contact with the outside world.

Marinette finally turned off the water, not wanting to waste any more, and wrapped the pink towel around her before stepping out of the shower. As she pushed her feet into her slippers and walked out of the bathroom, she couldn't help but think of her idea.

She didn't actually know whether or not he'd say no. She was sure he'd refuse her request, but it couldn't hurt to try, right?

When she left her room for lunch, she found Chat Noir laying the plates of food on the table. He noticed her come in and smiled, a stark contract to the awkward glances the previous night during dinner.

"Good afternoon, Princess," he greeted politely.

She bobbed her head once. "Hello, Chat Noir."

And here comes the awkwardness. Marinette bit her bottom lip as her fingers anxiously twisted together, while Chat Noir looked like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment instead of standing in front of her.

The silence was broken when he sighed. His eyes kept flickering between her and the side of the room as his hand found the back of his neck.

"Listen," he began. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for kissing you like that. It was uncalled for, and I know you didn't want it, so I shouldn't have done it."

Sky blue eyes blinked in disbelief. He was actually apologizing for something? Chat Noir was apologizing to her?

Marinette ignored how he sounded despondent when saying how she didn't want his kiss.

Since when do supervillains ever say they're sorry, anyway? Could this be the start of something new...or, old?

She bit her bottom lip and stared into those strange, yet oddly captivating, cat-eyes.

"I forgive you."

His mouth parted in wonder, his cat ears atop his head even twitched. "Really?"

She nodded for emphasis. "Yes, I forgive you. I mean, you could've done worse."

The thief's eyes impossibly widened, this time his mouth fully dropped open in astonishment.

"Marinette, you..." His words were a mere, horrified whisper. She noted with confused surprise that his green eyes looked so pained. "You don't actually think I'd do something like that to you, do you?"

It took her a minute to gather her thoughts, she was completely perplexed by his sudden change in behavior. Why did the prospect of her being afraid he might take advantage of her terrify him and seem to hurt him so much? He was a villain, they weren't supposed to care if they instilled fear into the lives of others.

"Marinette," he spoke again, in the same pained murmur. "Princess. You know I'd never touch you like that, without your consent, right? I'd never hurt you. I-I'm sorry if I caused you to be afraid of me yesterday. I'll never do something like that again."

The blackette could only stare in stupefied shock. He looked so scared and damaged, as though afraid to approach her, like an alley kitten being discovered by a curious human.

One thing was evident: he never wanted to hurt her. He's said it before, but now the fear is all too real. What was he even afraid of, anyway?

She couldn't ignore the 'without your consent' part. Did that mean he was interested in her? Normally she would've thought their kiss to be a dead giveaway to his feelings, but he could've been joking.

Although, he definitely wasn't joking now.

His black ears were drooped on his head as he gazed at her in sorrow, waiting for an answer.

She shuffled her feet, mouth opening and closing as she fought for a response.

"I-I'm not afraid of you." And strangely enough, she found she wasn't, not anymore. Her fear of him had slowly been dwindling since coming here, and now she found herself to be completely unafraid of the villain.

Because, in spite of being the bad guy, he was the good guy for her.

Chat's whole being perked up, his clover green eyes were alight with new hope but with doubt etched deep within.

"You're not?" His voice was a whisper, filled with optimism as he stared at her, waiting for the answer that he'd been waiting to hear since he brought her here.

She smiled.

"No."

...

Alya took her place in the bench by Nino's side, the spot that Adrien had once occupied all that time ago. It felt like forever since their group of friends was complete, and most of all, happy.

The young journalist had switched seats after Marinette left, finding that she couldn't sit alone. Nino was more than willing to let her switch, and Mme. Bustier had no qualms about the move either.

Nino was more than supportive after her best friend's loss. He normally walked around with her since he was her boyfriend, but every morning since the incident, he's been showing up at her house to walk her to school so she wouldn't have to be alone.

He was her shoulder to cry on, he accompanied her to her scoops (although at first it had been hard to do, but over time she was able to get back into her normal routines somewhat), and he was always willing to talk to her about the while situation.

In short, he was amazing.

Even though it's been awhile since Marinette's death, Alya was still recuperating. How could she not be? She was trying, as she knew her best friend wouldn't want her moping around like this, but it was just so hard.

It was hard to accept the fact that Marinette was just...gone. She would never see Alya's first published article, she'd never see her wedding, or any of her birthdays, she'd never see her first born, she'd never eat ice cream with her again, she'd never be able to have wheelchair races with her in a retirement home.

She would never be able to go to Erika Carp, her absolute dream school that she got accepted to.

Alya breathed deep, closing her eyes and taking a few seconds to open them again. She couldn't think about this now, she would not be an emotional wreck at school. Everyone expected her to break down in tears after it happened, but she held her head high and willed herself not to let it happen. She wouldn't lose her composure in public, she wouldn't.

Nino sensed her internal distress and reached over to take her hand in his. He rubbed small circles on the back of her hand with the pad of his thumb.

"You okay?" He whispered, frowning.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay."

He didn't say anything, even though he was perfectly aware that wasn't the case. He knew better than to ask questions. He'd been through this himself when he lost Adrien, so he knew that she didn't want to hear too many questions. She didn't want to hear any reminders of Marinette's absence, because hearing it made it all the more real, and all the more real to confront.

The school was still shaken from one of their favorite student's passing, but they were slowly picking up the pieces from their shattered minds.

They knew that one day, hopefully with time, they could overcome this.

And maybe kill the man that took their resident designer away.

...

Marinette held back on asking her questions of writing letters. She felt it wouldn't be the right time after their conversation earlier in the day.

Just because she wasn't afraid of him, didn't mean that they were instantly friends. She knew it was wrong to be friends with him, but it's not like she could be friends with anyone else in this place. He was the only one there, so she might as well get along with him, right?

Still, a possible friendship would take awhile. Especially since she's beginning to suspect that he may want her for more than friendship.

She had spent the day in her sewing room, working on some new designs and making new outfits. Chat had dropped in a few times, content to watch her work, even throwing in a few compliments and suggestions.

"You have excellent taste, Princess."

"I like it, but I think the black would fit more. See how it contrasts better with the pink?"

"Hm. How about making it long-sleeved instead of strapless? I think that's the current fashion, now."

It made her suspicions of him grow. He seemed to know a lot about fashion, judging by what he said, and how he overlooked her designs almost like how a professional designer would.

Tossing her musings aside at dinner, she decided to finally bring up her request.

"Chat?"

The man brought his head up, blinking in wonder at her. That was the first time she ever referred to him by his first name.

He shook off the fluttery feeling in his chest and answered her, plastering on a grin.

"Yes?"

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "I was wondering if I could write a letter to be sent home? So that my family and friends know I'm okay?"

His eyes enlarged in suprise, clearly he wasn't expecting that kind of question.

"Write a letter?" He repeated, perplexed.

He didn't say no, so she decided to press on.

"Yes. I just want them to know I'm okay. I won't write where I am or anything, I just want to tell them that I'm still alive." She looked up at him through her lashes, remembering how the guileless look would always sway her father. "Please?"

Chat couldn't help the tortured grimace on his face at that look. With her lower lip slightly put out, those dark lashes framing those sparkling eyes that stared so innocently up at him, it was hard to say no.

He had no idea what could happen should people learn that Marinette was safe and alive. Last night he had been so careless when telling Master Fu to reveal the truth, but now he was truly thinking of the possible consequences.

Would people try to go out looking for her? There was an equal chance they would, or would not. They would, because the idea of her being alive could spur countless people to rescue her. Or they wouldn't, because she was still the sacrifice for Paris's peace.

He knew the risks were too high of sending a letter. But he knew she had to be lonely here. She had no one else to talk to on a daily basis except himself, anyone would go crazy under such conditions.

Wait a minute. He's lived here all alone before she showed up.

Could he be crazy?

Huh, he supposed he was, at least a little bit. After all, isn't everyone a little crazy in their own way?

He allowed a small smile to grace his features. "Sure, you can send a letter. I'm going out tomorrow night for more supplies, I'll stop by Paris and deliver it to your bakery then."

He wasn't prepared for the gasp of happiness that flew out of her mouth, or the way she literally hopped in her seat, or the beaming smile she presented him with. He could only stare in a spellbound daze at the joy that radiated off of her.

"Thank you!"

"Y-You're welcome."

A/N: Phew! Quite an eventful chapter, huh? Anyway, can anyone guess the significance of the naming of Marinette's dream school? ;)

(Not so)Fun Fact: Alya's grieving over Marinette's 'death' is a reflection of how I am over my own friend's recent death.