A/N: this chapter is a bit shorter, i apologize for that. the next will have a lot more happening! thanks so much to those who have reviewed, favorited, and followed! ;u;

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

vi.
bonne nuit

Fais de beaux rêves, ma chère.

Jumping up, Marinette quickly flicked the nearest lamp off and draped the rest of the blanket over Chat Noir.

He had almost bolted, just barely restrained himself, because there was no way to do it fast enough and stay quiet. She gently wrapped an arm around him in an attempt to appear asleep and he bit his lip to keep himself making any startled noises, relaxed, went limp against her. He was a pillow. He couldn't be stiff.

When the small entrance to her room opened, a head peering inside, Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and tried to steady the frantic beating of her heart.

"Oh, you're asleep."

"Oui, Papaaa…?" A groggy response was offered, surprisingly convincing.

"Nothing, nothing. I heard a noise earlier so I was just checking to make sure you're alright. Go back to sleep, ma chérie."

"Mm, d'accord."

Only after he left did Marinette release a deep sigh. She peeled the blanket off of her friend, quickly apologizing, "Sorry, are you okay? I panicked."

He had held his breath the entire time, kept his panic under wraps because he didn't want her father to notice him. He'd met him before and Chat Noir didn't want to deal with such a large man while injured—seeing as this situation was probably odd to the onlooker.

It was… sweet, though.

Her father checked on her himself. It must be nice.

[The arm around him was also nice, but he tried not to think too much about that.]

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "That was quick thinking."

"I guess." A sigh passed her lips. With the lights off, she couldn't see him as well anymore and Marinette flopped lazily back against the mattress, curling up close to him. "Papa knows Chat Noir, so he wouldn't be mad to find out that you're here." Surely. As large and strong as the man was, he was about as intimidating as a flower. "But… explaining things might be a bit difficult."

"Ah, there is a difference between knowing a hero and discovering a strange boy in his daughter's bed. I would rather not provoke a father who only wants to protect his daughter from alley cats."

Especially as his wound was no longer obvious. Excuses would be a lot harder to make and it wasn't as though he could show off his wound with his suit repaired. [Really, did it have to be like a second skin?]

"Ally cat, hm?" Looking at it like that, he… made sense. She wasn't sure her father would appreciate finding them in the same bed, even as much as he liked Chat Noir. A light roll of the eyes followed the pun he'd made and Marinette had to fight the urge to reach over and ruffle his hair again.

She chuckled quietly and teased, "You know, you don't make a bad pillow."

Well, she had been too focused on staying silent than on the cat she'd spooned just minutes ago. But, so long as she hadn't hurt him in the position, Marinette saw no harm in joking around. If her arm had been lower, it'd be another story. That might be uncomfortable, but, luckily, he could ignore the twinges of pain higher up.

Regardless, he felt his face go red. Chat Noir was glad it was dark; she wouldn't be able to see him as well as he could see her.

"It's only natural, Princess. Cats are lap pets for a reason. We're purrty soft," he drawled, a hand on his chest, a grin on his face and in his voice.

"Definitely. What was I thinking?"

By this point, her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could make the outline of his form as well as various other objects in the room. Her alarm clock glowed from the bedside, illuminating the numbers, 3:08. Had they been talking for so long? She hadn't noticed the time pass.

"Are you… Are you still planning to leave?"

"…I have to. I'll be noticed in the morning. If they figured out I was sneaking out at night, it'd be worse than skipping school. Knowing my luck, he'd blame my best friend," he said with a huff. "I'm more of a bad boy than him, but he's the bad influence?" Nino was relaxed and chill, hardly the type to go sneak out in the middle of the night and get into fights.

He'd blame my best friend. Marinette couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but she figured that Chat Noir was referring to his father. Whoever his family was, he didn't seem to talk about them fondly. The bluenette knew better than to push. Things didn't sound easy for him.

"Ah, no—yeah—I get it. It's not fair to your or your friend. In that case, you should get home before morning," she suggested. A small yawn escaped her and she became silent.

Chat Noir paused. His father was... complicated. Without a doubt, he loved his father and he knew his father loved him, in his own way. He could remember kindness when he was younger. When his mother was still around. Even now, he would at least say he'd try to find time in his schedule for Adrien and would compensate with money when he didn't—which was all the time.

It was evidence, though, wasn't it? His father cared. He was just terrible at showing it. But, if he was good enough, made his father's work easier, made it so he never had to waste his time punishing or lecturing Adrien, then maybe one of these days he'd get the man to actually spend time with him.

Maybe he'd finally get approval.

On the other hand, there were days he was angry, bitter. Not for outright rebellion, but it was why he fought tooth and nail to keep going to school, to have Nino be allowed in his home. It was why he kept taking the risks to be Chat Noir. It was worth the price and maybe a petty part of him relished in the defiance.

"I know," the hero finally stated, looking over and offering the girl a reassuring smile. "I can take my time now, so I will. But, you should sleep."

Marinette was prepared to protest, but he continued speaking, "As much as beauty sleep is unnecessary for a princess like yourself, it'll probably make tomorrow easier for you. I'll head out soon. I'm starting to get my second wind."

She never would quite understand how 'Princess' came to be her nickname. She supposed that was just Chat Noir being his ridiculous self. Marinette huffed fondly, dismissing the comment about beauty sleep.

However, it was true that it had been getting increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Especially now that all the tension and stress from earlier was beginning to take its toll on the girl. Marinette half-heartedly attempted to sit up but this resulted in failure so she shifted to slide her legs under the covers instead.

She loosened the pigtails in her hair. Once the blue locks fell to brush her shoulders, she relaxed again and tucked the covers under her chin while closing her eyes.

"Alright. You're welcome to head back whenever you want. Just be careful, please. And make sure to get a lot of rest." His injury would slow him down, no doubt, and it was important that he try not to stumble into more danger on his way.

"I will. I'll sleep in as much as I'm allowed and everything," Chat Noir sounded sincere, raising one hand, the other on his chest. "I swear it."

As long as he promised to take it easy, she was reassured. "You better not just be saying that, chaton. Good luck tomorrow at school. I… hope you feel better soon." [Marinette was naturally a caring person, so to downplay her concern never ended convincingly.] "Bonne nuit," the girl eventually mumbled as she turned onto her other side, facing opposite of the hero.

Huh… The more he was around her, the more he saw a fire, an energy. She wasn't as overt as Chloé, so Princess seemed like an apt title for someone who could both be sweet and quiet, and honest and strong.

Plus, she was adorable, Chat Noir couldn't help but think so when she was looking out for him like this.

"Bonne nuit, Marinette," he whispered back. He grew still, listening for her breathing to even out. It hadn't taken long. Perhaps the day's events had exhausted her, or perhaps it was Chat Noir's comforting presence, but Marinette was fast asleep within just a few minutes.

He waited a few minutes longer, before slowly pushing himself up. He was careful to leave her room without making a noise—this time, using baton much more carefully to maneuver the rooftops.

He'd have to thank her somehow. For now, he just wanted to go home and pass out.