A/N: so you like them, and i like them, but we also like each other, but we don't like each other - or maybe we do - and we don't know it - and
not relatable? no?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

viii.
les aveux

Moi aussi.

He was glad his back was to her, because he couldn't help the grimace.

Chat Noir shouldn't be hearing this. These were her feelings, the ones she apparently went lengths to hide from Adrien—and here he was, cheating with a mask.

But, it would explain it, wouldn't it? Why she could never talk, why she spluttered, how many times she'd blurted out a compliment and tried to change it.

And he… didn't know how to feel about it.

He was used to people having crushes on Adrien. He was supposed to be likable. He had been confessed to plenty of times, and of course, he rejected every single one of them. As gently as possible.

Blue eyes tentatively rose from the fabric, regarding the other teen with curiosity. Marinette couldn't see Chat Noir's face from the angle and she wondered what kind of expression he was making to being told something as seemingly trivial as a schoolgirl crush.

Instead, her words seemed to resonate and he was turning again. And this smile was two parts, like her own, subdued. She listened to him speak.

"I think I understand the feeling, though I suppose it'd be more accurate to say I have the opposite problem," he said, still staring at the wall. Be perfect. Be perfect, be what your father wants, and maybe he'll actually show you he cares. "It feels like I can't think straight without the mask. Everything I say and do is tailored to give off a certain impression. I've had enough practice that it comes naturally, but there are days where I've just one long internal scream because I think I've messed something up."

Once more, the topic of freedom was brought up and Marinette was slowly, slowly realizing that whatever kind of civilian life the superhero lead—he didn't prefer it the way she did. He was pressured, carrying the burden of appearances. Something she couldn't know as well.

Marinette was Marinette. The only person she ever watched herself around was Adrien, and even then, the look on her wasn't much better.

"With her… it's peaceful." He sighed, bowing his head and smiling softly.

She blinked. Her?

"With her, all the anxiety goes away. It's alright to say something weird. It's alright to make the stupid joke. You can be a fool and have fun. Purrhaps she won't love you the same, but she will still be your friend. She will still care. No matter how many flaws you have, she won't reject you. She needs you, but she wants you to be there, too."

He then laughed, lifting his hand to cover his face. "The only problem is when I want her to take me seriously. I think I could tell her outright I love her and she'll think I'm just being a flirt! Just another silly kitty joke."

Her head throbbed.

This honesty…

Had she really been seeing Chat Noir so wrong? Her view of him skewed to the point where she had doubted the sincerity of his affections—and here he was, telling Marinette everything.

Chat Noir loved Ladybug and it was now becoming so painfully clear that the girl couldn't help but swallow back the lump in her throat, feeling guilty and shitty and upset and dumb. She was absolutely awful.

And yet, she couldn't encourage him to pursue her. Call her selfish. Or maybe, it was for the better. All this time, she'd never meant to lead her partner on as Ladybug. She cared about him, worried over him, enjoyed working with him. But she had been far too occupied battling her own feelings to give real, serious thought to his.

Because around Marinette, Chat Noir opened up. Around Marinette, Chat Noir wasn't blinded with infatuation; he voiced his thoughts, his concerns without worrying what she'd think of him.

And she was finally understanding.

A long silence filled the space between them.

"We… have more in common than I expected us to." Another partial truth, but victims of unrequited love shared some of the worst feelings. And even though he laughed, she couldn't help but slouch her shoulders, chest tight. "I hope I haven't upset you after bringing it up, mon minou."

"No, you haven't," he assured her, looking over his shoulder, and offering a bright grin, one that caused her eyes to widen and lips to part in surprise. "It's actually rather pleasant, to have a conmewsation about this. The only other person I can talk to has no patience for romance and as a civilian… well, that's just a crush of idolization without knowing the real girl."

To say she was relieved was an understatement. Just seeing his smile had the bluenette's heart melting and she breathed in a more positive feeling, idly playing with the frayed ends of the fabric. "Hmm."

His pun almost had her rolling her eyes again. Instead, she gave a small laugh, light and friendly—nodding in agreement to this kind of talk. She spoke frequently with Alya about her crush, and at this point, she was pretty sure Nino knew, too.

[Chat grinned when she laughed at the pun, tails and ears flicking up, looking like a cat who caught the canary. He knew someone had to like them eventually!]

He glanced up at the pictures again. It was a shame. Marinette was so patient with him, so caring. A brave, passionate, beautiful girl. He saw a lot of similarities to his Lady, but where Ladybug had this wall of professionalism, Marinette was willing to let more personal things out. And she was seeing so much of Chat Noir without rejecting him either.

Maybe if he had noticed Marinette sooner… things would have been different?

"If I may make a suggestion, if it's not crossing a line, try to… not be so afraid of Adrien Agreste." There was a pause. "One of the Akuma we faced, Ladybug and I, was determined to throw him a birthday party of all things. For someone to be filled with that much negativity just because they wanted to do something that simple for a friend, it sounds like he thought Adrien really needed something like that. That simple fun. He'd probably love a friend like you."

He couldn't encourage her to pine after Adrien, but he wanted desperately to become a better friend to her. And maybe if she saw more of who Adrien really was, she wouldn't be so in love with him.

After all, she wasn't in love with him and if Adrien was him, it was only natural—right?

The advice that left the cat's lips caused Marinette to feel just a tiny bit more confident about approaching him from now on.

"You're right. I can… try to be –" Myself? Or normal? Which was the right word? Were they too different? "Um, pay more attention. He's usually smiling so I just assumed…" That he was happy, that there was nothing wrong or lonely or difficult about his life. "Ah, no, but I get it. Merci beaucoup, Chat Noir."

"To your credit, Princess, that assumption is rather the point. Happy is a safe emotion. No one pries why a rich, young, popular model is happy," he pointed out with a shrug and a wave of his hand. If Adrien was unhappy or depressed, reporters would ask what happened, if something bad had happened. Or worse, they would start painting pictures.

A boy who had everything—what right does he have to be unhappy? How selfish could he be?

Either it led to questions he dared not answer, or it started to ruin his reputation. "And to be fur, I'm also only making a guess. Perhaps the Bubbler just really likes parties, but I like to think I'm an excellent judge of characater."

Marinette blinked as Chat Noir shed some light onto the situation, his play on words doing nothing to deter her from the meaning behind them.

Could that be the case? She hadn't thought a life like that could be so suffocating. In truth, Marinette had wondered how nice it must be to have everything you want handed over to you because of who you are.

But, none of it mattered when what you truly wanted was beyond the realm of the palpable, the tactile. She dwelled on this and she dwelled on Adrien. He was nice, polite, with good character… however, they were the distant type of friends. And it was her own fault for being so stricken with love that she'd never bothered to get to know him.

She supposed she just needed to hear this from someone other than—

No, it was because Chat Noir was dear to her, and to be shown his more honest side was a gift in itself. So, as he'd done—perhaps she could also spare a few words? Nothing to change his feelings for Ladybug, to make them stronger nor to discourage him.

With a smile, she attached the gown of the dress to the bust entirely, leaving a little room for adjustments. The shoulders came next and Marinette carefully sewed them on, folding the fabric in precise positions along the markings she'd made so that the sleeves were as symmetrical as she could manage.

"I know that… fighting crime doesn't really give you a lot of time to talk when you're together, but, ah. I've met Ladybug before. I think if you voiced your opinions more often, she'd like that. Don't worry too much about impressing her."

It was her own choice for being so 'business-before-fun' and strict with herself, but she didn't consider herself uncompassionate. "She'll warm up to you with time, I'm sure."

He finally looked away from the pictures, eyes wandering to Marinette. He moved closer, observing the hands that worked to attach the dress, and she tensed a little under his gaze. The stitching process seemed to be easier with a machine doing most of the work. Bandaged fingers shifted accordingly, foot pressing on the pedal in a steady manner. She was unhurried but not slow, meticulous but not harsh.

"That is my hope!" Chat Noir smiled. "Though, it's really hard to hold myself back from doing crazy things. Aaah, especially when she's so amazing. Not easy to impress a girl like that," he spoke with a dramatic sigh.

"I… see what you mean. I think we all do it, from time to time. Especially when someone's so hard to impress. Like you said. It makes you want to keep trying until it happens."

"Yeah. But, she'll play along. She even makes puns sometimes! It's pawesome." [Nothing made him squeal in joy internally more than when his Lady was making a pun.]

Laughter spilled from her lips. "You're such a dork."

He blushed. "Probably. It's just so hard to resist and the thought of seeing awe on her face! How could I not be persistent?" A blissful smile curved his lips, appearing content with the small goal. "And if nothing else, it makes her incredibly sassy." And that was always fun.

"Sassy, huh?…" In that case, she shouldn't be so hard on him. From what she could see, he liked Ladybug, genuinely, sincerely. What harm was there in playing along with his puns, his attempts at stealing her attention away on every few occasions?

"Oh, definitely. It makes the rebuffing worth it just to hear the clever wordplay." It was his greatest weakness, her quick wit, and cheeky grins. Better a playful rejection with no intent to harm than a cold rejection he had expected the first time. "Little by little, she's relaxing around me. Maybe she'll fall for me one of these days, but at least… I hope she'll trust me with more than just her life."

Hearing him go on and on about Ladybug should inflate her ego, make her flattered. And some while some aspect of Chat Noir's words caused her heart to throb uncertainly, she couldn't help but question herself again.

Fondness, she could understand. But—really, was he in love with Ladybug?

Or the idea of her?

Plain, ordinary Marinette couldn't possibly spark an interest in the cat, so it would be silly to assume that his feelings were meant to last forever. Standing over Paris beside your cool partner-in-justice produced far more euphoric emotions than sitting in their bedroom and watching them sew clothes, surely?

[Chat Noir would disagree.] He crouched nearby, watching her work. It was oddly soothing. Watching her make something, knowing it was going to be beautiful. Hopefully, he'd get to see the full outfit. Alya would surely want to show it off at some point, and knowing how dedicated Marinette was, the color and shape would suit her wonderfully. A beautiful picture as a whole—all created by these delicate, bandaged hands. It was amazing.

Suddenly struck with a thought, Marinette's eyes widened and she shifted her gaze back down to her friend. "I forgot to ask sooner! I'm not keeping you here, am I?"

If he had some place else to go… Blue eyes flickered to green, brow creased in mild concern. It was probably selfish, but she didn't want him to leave yet. "Just a little curious."

"Hm?" He looked up and shook his head, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, no, no. I don't have anywhere to be until I need to find Ladybug for patrol, but she's usually not out for at least a while longer."

He paused then, feeling guilty. "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"

Marinette kept this in mind as she worked on the opposite shoulder and within just a little while, she had finished assembling the entire dress. She knew she was to go out patrolling after Chat Noir left, so he could be assured the superheroine had missed him in his absence. She breathed out a deep sigh just as he'd finished speaking, glancing over all the stitches before twirling the garment around in her hands.

"I see. And no, you're not disturbing me at all! Don't make that face," Marinette chided, noting the look that had pass over his features. Before he could try to play off the expression, he didn't mean to look guilty, there were fingers under his chin. She had reached out to gently scratch him there and—oh.

Oh, that was nice. That was really, really, really nice. The remorse vanished in a matter of seconds, a contented look coming across his face, and he started to purr almost instantly.

She blinked and seemed to blush slightly before pulling her hand away with a tiny apology and standing to hold up the dress to her dresser window. He leaned after her, almost head-butting her hand. Then he froze, eyes snapping open as he realized what he was doing. He turned red and sat back stiffly.

He resembled a cat so much that Marinette had almost begun treating him like one; this absentminded petting, ruffling, scratching, the desire to drape a protective arm around him and snuggle him close like a pillow. Was it strange?

Honestly, if it was strange, then he was stranger. The puns were him, but the cat behavior was not something he could help. It felt just as natural to be on two feet as it was four. He kept curling his hands like paws to 'retract' his claws. And the scratching and purring. Guh. [He had more than once wanted to cuddle against Ladybug like a needy kitten, and just barely fought off the urge.]

Still. Nope. He wasn't going to get her attention with a head-butt, definitely not. He stood up straight, stepping back to give her space, and taking a chance to look over the dress.

She smiled, "It's almost done. I just have to add the ribbon."

"It'll go well," Chat Noir nodded, swaying in his spot as looked it over best he could at a distance.

"Do you think so?" She grinned and pulled on the gown, holding it to her frame before lowering it to the desk again. If Alya liked this, it would all be worth it. Marinette retrieved the spools Chat Noir had brought earlier, [among many other supplies], and with measuring tape and a pair of scissors, she proceeded to snip away varying lengths of shiny blue ribbon.

"I know so. She'll look stunning—how couldn't she love it?"

Sitting down in front of the sewing machine once more, Marinette attached ribbon to the bust of the dress, the hem, and delicately around the collar. "I've been practicing to finally make something for her. Most of the time, I work on designs but don't do a lot with them, or they're scrapped." She spoke as she worked, her concentration holding well despite the casual conversation.

"C'est vrai…? That's a shame. From what I've seen, you have good designs. Those who get something are very lucky," he complimented, settling down beside her, though making sure to not be in the way. He meant what he said, too. She was obviously putting so much work in them and it showed. Beauty and meaning, what gift could be better?

Growing gently accustomed to the kindness, she smiled wider. He made her heart soar with the remarks, as simple as they were. "Really, really. That's sweet of you to say." Critique was important to Marinette, but like every aspiring artist, musician, designer, a bit of sincere praise never did any damage either.

"I wouldn't say it if I did not believe it. I'm sure a professional designer could give helpful advice, but from the extent of my knowledge, I believe I'd be very hard-pressed to find a flaw." He winked, holding up a hand in the air, the other crossing over his heart.

She was lightly flushed with embarrassment but it was the good kind, finishing securing the ribbon on the dress. It tapered off at the back, which she would manually sew into a small bow.

"I would have knitted her a sweater given this weather but… I've already done that," she murmured sheepishly. "Don't want to fill her closet with the same old, same old. Knitting is easier, though."

"Never tried my paw at knitting. Is it really easier?"

"Never? You've got to be kitten me!" Marinette exclaimed, unable to help herself; it was the perfect opportunity. Call her crazy, but Chat Noir's puns were becoming a tiny bit contagious. He beamed, laughing gleefully. It was an oldie, but a goodie and the fact someone was humoring him was wonderful. "I could teach you sometime, it's not hard at all."

"I think I'll have to take you up on that ofurrer one day."

But then Marinette continued and it took every ounce of lingering happiness and model expertise to not let the shock and subsequent hurt show on his face. "For Adrien's birthday, I'd knitted him a scarf. Well—kind of. I'm not sure how but things ended mixed up, so he thinks it's from his father."

The girl gave a chuckle, deciding it wasn't so important if she told Chat Noir this, seeing as he already knew about her crush. "He'd seemed pretty… happy, though. Tu sais—? To get a gift from him. I didn't say anything. It was fine with me so long as it had made him feel good."

"Oh?" He hummed, but his mind skidded out of control.

[If only she'd realized her mistake. Marinette would have shut up, wouldn't have breathed a word regarding the gift to him.] She didn't seem to notice the sadness nor the shock that lay beneath this warm smile Chat Noir was giving her and nodded her head.

The scarf had been so out of character.

It was well made, and no signs of a tag. With the quality of the material, it had to be custom made. Which would explain why there was no tag. But… there was a chance, however small, and he liked to entertain the possibility maybe his father made it.

Somehow, there seemed a slim chance there was something to it. His father gave him more than a passing moment of thought.

He was wrong to think like that. Either his father took credit, or Nathalie was supposed to get him a gift for his father and she stole it. And he didn't know which was worse. His father a thief, or he didn't even choose his presents in the first place.

But Marinette had let him believe. "His father is a busy man. For how much work you seem to put into this dress, he must have been happy his father took the time to make sure it was a quality gift. You're very kind to choose to let him be happy over impressing him."

"With what you mentioned about his birthday party… I can only guess he was pretty bummed out in the end, even if he didn't show it. That's why I don't regret keeping it to myself." Adrien had been ecstatic about the gift. This was enough for her.

"I imagine so. Especially since it wasn't until right before I found him to realize that the Bubbler had threatened them all to attend the party. He felt pretty bad that he missed the obvious."

It had been so clear in hindsight. Why everyone was upset and looking depressed. He wondered if Chloé had even realized her father was gone or was just too excited to have his attention while everyone else was distracted. Frankly, the scarf had been the one real high point of his birthday.

That, and the realization that Nino cared about him that deeply.

He knew Nino was a good friend, but to be so angry for his sake that he was possessed by an Akuma was strangely touching.

As was this. Yes, it hurt—knowing that his father either lied or didn't care enough to even do that much for his birthday. And here was Marinette, who liked him, who was content to let him be happy even if it meant her chances of getting his attention were lessened. Better that he was happy than she was.

It was… nice. Having someone think of his happiness first.

She stood, unplugging the sewing machine and leaving it at her desk while she retrieved her needle and thread.

"I doubt it'll come up at any point, but you said you're familiar with him? I would appreciate keeping all of this between us."

"Only in the few moments after rescues," Chat Noir mumbled, though he crossed his heart again. "I won't breathe a word to him."

So then, she'd done well to protect Adrien's feelings. Never mind how mistaken she was in truth, Marinette sincerely believed that as long as he was happy—and not just pretending to be—she could be at ease. Hearing Chat Noir promise not to say anything was a reassurance and she was glad to know she could so readily trust the other when it came to matters of the heart.

Sitting comfortably against her chair, Marinette proceeded to secure the ribbon in the back as a bow and once every loose thread was removed and frayed ends clipped, she let out a sigh of relief for finally finishing. He packed away his negative feelings for the moment. Reacting would only be a neon sign to Marinette and… he would need time to deal with it, anyway.

Instead, he focused on her work. And focused. He leaned in, watching her sew, studying her technique. He drifted closer and closer, not even realizing he was right at her side until she started folding the dress.

Marinette jumped when she finally noticed how close he was, blinking at the superhero crouched beside her. Reflexively, she'd moved inward, drawing her legs to her chest. "Chat Noir," the female huffed, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her racing pulse.

He looked up and smiled sheepishly. "My apologies, I got pulled in." Redness tinged his face. He was always curious, but with cat mixed in, it was easy to be too close without realizing it.

"It's okay." She changed positions, kneeling on the seat while propping her chin against the backrest and peering down at him. A fond half-smile was offered to him, and again driven by how endearing the kitty cat could be, she reached over to rub one of the ears on his head.

He froze a moment, then relaxed completely, eyes closing—drawn towards her touch with a soft purr. This lasted a little longer than the scratching from before and once she'd withdrawn her arm, Marinette was adding, "I need to study for Physics."

Pouting slightly when she pulled away, Chat Noir attempted to wipe the expression away with a shake of his head. No, no, he shouldn't sulk just because someone wasn't petting him. He wondered if Ladybug had this problem. What would Ladybug tendencies even be? Eating plants? Sleeping in winter? [Actually, he should check to see if this was a possibility.]

"Physics?" he repeated, opening his eyes and tilting his head.

"Mhm." Lips pursed, she crossed her arms on the top of the backrest, pressing her cheek against them. "But, I really don't want to." She could almost hear Tikki scolding her for this, as though the tiny kwami's voice had begun to function as a second conscience. Probably the more reasonable one, too. [Was it a surprise? As responsible and task-oriented as Marinette usually behaved, sometimes she wished she had not a single thing to worry about.]

"Ah, I could help, if you want! Physics is my favorite subject."

Funny, Marinette idly thought, because Adrien's favorite subject was Physics, too.