It's not the pale moon that excites me

That thrills and delights me

Oh, no, it's just the nearness of you

"Chat?"

Green eyes, luminous in the night, peer over the hero's shoulder with a soft clink of a bell. "Thanks, Mari." Chat Noir's leather-wrapped fingers loop through the mug's handle, and he rests it on his knee. He sits, perfectly balanced, on the railing around Marinette's balcony, as he has many nights before.

Marinette, wrapped in a polka-dotted scarf and a fluffy winter coat, leans over the side, holding hot chocolate in her bare, flushed hands. Any footsteps or the grumble of passing cars are swiftly hushed by a layer of snow, soft against the roofs and ledges of Paris. The moon glows above, a hazy circle amidst gray clouds.

"So, your semester ended?" Chat asks after a sip of chocolate. He looks Marinette in the eyes when he's speaking to her, a habit she adores, but tonight, the gaze sends a flush through her cheeks. She tells herself it's the cold.

"Just today," Marinette nods. "One more, then it's off to college."

"Yeah." Chat sighs despondently and lets both his legs dangle over the edge. His claws absentmindedly tap on the ceramic.

"I'm not leaving Paris, chaton," Marinette reminds him with a smile. "I'll be around to keep you company when Ladybug's busy."

"I know, but after college, who knows?" Chat shrugs dejectedly. "You could end up in New York, or Singapore, or Berlin, or…"

"In four years, Chat." Marinette lays a reassuring hand on his arm, forcing herself not to let the warmth and muscle beneath his suit distract her. She gets flustered enough, being thrown on top of him during their missions. "Four years is a lot of time." I've already known you for nearly that long, she thinks, but doesn't say.

"Still, better make it count," Chat says easily, and puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

Marinette relaxes, resting her head against him. She can feel Chat smile more than she sees it. Ever since the fiasco with her akumatized father, she's let herself grow closer to Chat as her civilian self and has been constantly surprised with the tenderness he treats her, with the same protectiveness he shows to her alter ego.

It makes her wonder, sometimes, how much difference his heart notices between Marinette and Ladybug.

"Chat…" Marinette opens her eyes; she'd barely realized she closed them. "Do you miss Ladybug?"

He chuckles, and the vibrations of it run through her. "Not really, not now. I saw her a few hours ago. But I guess when she's gone for days, I do."

"Do you love her?" Marinette feels she already knows the answer to that question, but Chat Noir is silent for a long time, his gaze turning to the city, his hand never leaving her shoulder.

"Yes," Chat says finally, and Marinette heart twists, caught between flight and falling. She presses a tentative hand to her chest - she hadn't known it could do that. "I love her as an amazing partner, and one of my best friends. But I know she doesn't want to be with me, and I respect that completely."

Marinette swallows. "What would you do if she told you she loved you back? Right now?"

Chat's lips curve. "If Ladybug came swinging over right this minute," He gestured towards the nearest building with his mug, "To tell me she loved me, I'd probably die of shock. And if I didn't…I'd kiss her."

His eyes are faraway. Marinette can feel his pulse, beating hard like a raven's wing. Then, suddenly, he's pulled back to Earth, and she has that confident, caring smile all to herself.

"My turn for questions." Chat leans down, just a little, smelling of sweat and some sort of musky perfume that increases the heat in Marinette's cheeks. "Do you think it's possible to love more than one person?"

A year or so ago, Marinette would have responded with a resounding no, mind filling with visions of Adrien, and only Adrien, by her side, professing his undying love with a bouquet of her favorite flowers (pink tulips). But Chat Noir's eyes, searching hers, his gentle arm around her shoulder, make her forget everything she knows.

"Yes."

"Me, too." Chat Noir leans away for a moment, placing his hot chocolate on a nearby table. He reaches over, brushing a stray lock of winter-blown hair from Marinette's face. "Marinette?"

"Yes, Chat?"

"May I kiss you?"

Marinette's lips part, and her veins begin to run with adrenaline. "I…"

"Sorry," Chat Noir's arm slinks back to his side, and he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I don't know what I was thinking," His gaze traces the moonlit sky, "That was a stupid idea."

"Chat," Marinette says, forcefully, to get his attention, and as he looks at her, she grabs the collar of his suit and kisses him.

It's short, and sweet, but Marinette is enamored with every second of it. The taste of chocolate, his nose brushing against her cheek, hands steadying himself on her shoulders. She pulls away, slightly, and Chat grins, leather-clad fingertips affectionately caressing her neck.

"Actually, that was the best idea I've ever had," He amends, and Marinette rolls her eyes.

"I'm the one who executed it, chaton."

"Well, then, Mari, all the credit goes to you." Chat Noir inclines his head. "You little genius. Who knew the clumsiest girl in all of Paris would be such a good kisser?"

"Oh, shush," She laughs, and when she kisses him again, it's hard to keep from smiling.