For Chat Noir, meeting Ladybug was like seeing the sun for the first time.
The analogy was fitting, really : in his eyes, she shone bright and strong, her reliable presence warm and comforting. Her smile was always dazzling, but sometimes when she was in a really good mood, or if he offered a particularly good pun, it was so blinding that he could not bear to look at it for too long. And when she was angry, she burned with the strength of a thousand fires, and he marveled that the target of her wrath did not combust into a pile of ashes. When he was too forward with his flirting, or if she was put on the spot, her face flushed a delightful red, and he would stare in awe as warmth rolled over his own face.
Sometimes late at night, they sat at the edge of a rooftop, watching over the city, and talking about most anything except their secret identities – never their secret identities. On those nights, if he played his cards right, he would be rewarded with a lingering touch, or a playful ruffle of his hair. And once in a blue moon – ha! – as he turned to face her, a carefully crafted retort on the tip of his tongue, he would be met with a gaze so tender and adoring that it would make his heart stutter.
It was gone as quick as it came of course, her defenses once again made impenetrable as she turned away, and his mind would be left reeling with possibilities. He would stare for a few moments longer, her features peaceful and her bluebell eyes reflecting the lights of stars long-passed, and in those moments, he understood why entire civilizations dedicated temples and offered blood sacrifices to the Sun.
For Marinette, loving Adrien was like gazing upon the moon.
The analogy was fitting, really: in her eyes, he shone in a soft, quiet way, a gentle glow in the darkest of nights. His kind and eager-to-please disposition inevitably pulled people in, hoping to soak a while in his benevolent rays. Evidently, he was easy on the eyes too – his successful modeling career a testament to that, with hair an elegant blend of wheats and golds, and radiant jade eyes that had a gravitational pull of their own.
And yet, for all his attractive qualities, there seemed to be a side to him that he always kept just out of reach, carefully tucked away behind polite smiles and courteous nods. His steadfast façade of perfection seldom crumbled, bolstered by a decade of practice and disappointments. However, on warm days when the sun shone its brightest, the mask would crack ever so slightly, revealing a dorky, sassy boy with a fondness for… puns ? She had a hard time reconciling these two sides of him, overlapping in an eclipse of silvers and golds, blacks and whites, and a green that was oh-so familiar.
The similarities with her superhero partner stopped there, of course ; while one was an ever-loyal presence at her side – the other half of the other her, the other always seemed worlds away, a chasm of misunderstandings and missed opportunities between them. And while one professed her love to her every day in every language he knew and to everyone willing to listen, the other was painfully oblivious to her affections, and seemingly forever unable to reciprocate them.
And so, when she sat on her roof at night, cradling a hot cup of tea and picking out the constellations in the sky, she wished wished wished upon a star that she could one day be with the boy who hung the Moon.