Cat Noir couldn't tell you exactly when it started, but one day, Ladybug started bringing little bags of goodies to patrol, sweet confections that she either had to have bought or made herself. Cat Noir could swear that they were divine, as sweet as could be for some, and yet savory at other parts. Somehow flavor exploded in each bite.
It started with a smile and a soft, tender look as if something was changing and yet it wasn't as exact or as wild as it might have seemed if this whole thing started in one day. These types of sweets were exactly the stuff that his father forbid him to eat; they could conflict too much with his model diet though Cat Noir figured he had the excuse of his father not knowing about his secret identity or nearly as many calories as that burned.
His lady gave him them to try, and how could he say no? Just, seeing that almost prideful look in her eyes when he complimented them or when he devoured them told him that may be she was the one to make them in fact.
It was filed under one of his many, other little things that he'd learned about his lady over all of the time since he'd met her. Every reason felt like another reason to fall in love with her, another hint of just who she is so completely, so Cat Noir would take every offered pastry with a grateful smile as his heart melted under love's force. None of it had been bad, and he felt like even if he'd had more sweets in his life, he'd still swear by them being the best tasting ones around.
May be one day, he'd feel like they were made with a love that never wavered, that never swayed, a love only enhanced by just how close they'd hopefully grow. His mind would blank on imagining her without her mask, imagining marriage, and all the sweets that she'd probably make as she seemed to enjoy baking every single one for him.
Hopefully, she'd teach him how to bake one day too, and he'd finally be able to return the favor.