This was written for anon, who requested number 44 and marichat. I decided to go an AU-ish route because I was in an angst mood. Sorry if you were hoping for something fluffy. Just not feeling it today.
44: Tentative kisses given in the dark.
i feel you holding me (tighter, i cannot see)
"Chat Noir," she whispers.
"I'm right here."
His hand find hers in the dark, warm even gloved. She clings tight.
The shouts have faded. The smoke that choked is just a bitter stain in her lungs, rasping her throat. Blood drips from her ear where one earring was ripped free. She can't transform now, but then the stolen earring is useless to Papillion as well. It's a small comfort.
"We'll be safe here," Chat Noir says. "Don't worry. I'm sure Ladybug will come soon, and then we can—"
A small sound escapes her, not a sob but not really a cry either. It's pained and raw like the stone caught in her throat that won't go away no matter how much she swallows.
"Marinette?"
Tears sting like prickles to her eyes and scald her cheeks. She wants to tell him, wants to confess that the partner he admires is right here—just a foolish girl who trusted too easily. But the words won't come out. They just won't.
"Hey." His other hand finds her face, smearing tears. "O-oh, you're …"
You're crying.
He doesn't say it, but then he doesn't have to.
Suddenly, he's pulling her into his arms. She doesn't resist. Her body trembles and she tucks herself against him like moss finding a home, hiding in his shelter. His fingers run through her unbound hair, rhythmic and soothing.
"It's okay," he murmurs. "It's going to be okay."
It's not, of course. He doesn't understand. But right now she doesn't have the strength to explain. It's like this tiny moment of stillness has ripped off a lid to her emotions and everything is scratching and clawing to break free. It'll shatter her if she lets it out.
She wants to forget. Wants it to stop. The memories, the responsibilities, the failure that bleeds from her mangled ear and weighs her shoulders like razor-edged stones.
"Chat?"
"Yes?"
Her hand slides up his chest, passing from fabric to skin. His pulse thrums under her fingertips. She dares to place a kiss to his neck—close-lipped and delicate as a feather, just a taste of gossamer and silk. His breathing hitches.
She waits, gauging his reaction. He says nothing. All she can feel is his quickening pulse and his grip tighten ever so slightly on her waist. Heart pounding, she presses another kiss to his neck, then to his jaw. The next is near his ear, and this time she trails her sensitive lower lip against his skin, igniting tingles with every brush of contact.
He swallows audibly.
"Marinette …"
She pulls back with a snap. "Sorry. I shouldn't have … I just …"
Green eyes, luminescent like emerald moons, peer down at her. "You can't kiss me like that unless you mean it."
Her heart thumps and thumps, echoing its song like thunder in her ears. "What if I do?"
"Do you?"
She closes her eyes, and guilt twists her belly like a knife dug deep. "I … I don't know." Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Chat. I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I'm sorry I—"
"Hey, it's okay." He hugs her close again. "You've been through a lot."
"Sorry."
"You don't need to apologise." His lips brush her forehead, and then he shifts her into a more comfortable position on his lap and rests his chin on her head. "Let's just stay like this, okay? If you still feel like kissing me in the morning, we can talk about it then."
A half hiccup, half laugh escapes her and she nuzzles closer. "Okay."
