Day 10 - Catnip
There was a smashing noise from above her head and Marinette gritted her teeth in annoyance. She'd spent a lot of money on her new plants and if Chat had broken a pot just because he wasn't paying attention she was going to kill him.
Pushing her head up through the skylight, she spotted the hero himself, sitting on his haunches and staring vacantly at one of her new plants with his jaw dropped. He looked like he might be drooling.
All anger abating, Marinette climbed up onto the balcony and started to approach the boy carefully, worry evident on her face. "Chat?" she called, "Chat Noir? Are you okay, Kitty-cat?"
He turned to stare at her slowly and it took several seconds for his eyes to focus on her, at which point he grinned widely and launched himself forward, knocking them both through the still open skylight where they landed heavily on her bed. Marinette groaned a little at the rough landing and silently thanked God that she had a loft bed so there wasn't as much height to fall from as there could have been.
"Chat?" she asked with a groan as a realisation came over her, "I thought you said catnip doesn't affect you?"
"Doesn'," he slurred, cuddled into her chest and rubbing his cheek against her in an over affectionate way.
"Really? 'Cause I don't believe you."
"Doesn't though," he insisted with a screwed up frown appearing on his face which Marinette couldn't help but find adorable, "Bought some for my Kwami ages ago. Doesn' bother him, doesn' bother me."
"Maybe. Did you try both dried and fresh?" she asked.
"Jus' dried."
"Chat!" she scolded tenderly. She buried her hands in his hair and tutted at him as he pushed his head against her and purred. He'd enjoyed being petted for a while now, but he'd never been quite this...enthusiastic before. She giggled. "Fresh and dried can affect cats differently, silly. Just because you don't react to one, doesn't mean you won't to the other."
"Is that why those purple flowers smell so good?" he asked as he swung a leg across her body, his tail wrapping around her calf as he did so.
Breathe, she told herself, Just breathe. He was very close. He was very cuddly. She was very confused.
"You smell good too."
"I..."
"You always smell good. And sound good. And look good." He looked up at her, his eyes half-lidded and pupils so dilated she could only see the green in his sclera, not his irises which had disappeared into the black void. "You're so good to me, Princesssss. Pretty Princess. Not s'pposed to like you, you know." He closed his eyes in apparent bliss.
"I think I should go get rid of those plants before-!"
"Not s'pposed to like you. You're not my Lady." He looked up at her again, now half climbing over her to see her face clearly. Marinette licked her lips and reminded herself to breathe again when Chat's eyes lazily followed the motion of her tongue.
"But do like you. Like you a lot." And Chat pressed his lips to hers, using a little too much pressure, mouth and chin still a little damp from his earlier drooling. She gasped but otherwise found herself unable to respond, completely shocked despite the mounting suspicions she'd had lately. As he pulled back he smiled crookedly at her, and Marinette couldn't do anything but stare. She needed time to compartmentalise this and work out how to react.
And as if he knew what she was thinking and was trying to give her what she needed, Chat gently pushed his nose into the junction between her neck and shoulder, inhaled deeply, and fell asleep.