Little Red Dress

by Cicilicious

Marinette is tired of pretending like she is two different people and the only person who can understand how she feels is Chat Noir. She decides at last to share her identity with him, ideally in the least dramatic way possible. But how? When the duo are invited as guests of honor to the Mayor's Christmas Masquerade Ball, an opportunity presents itself.

4. Chapter 4

In which emotions run high and a phone call is made.

"Well," Marinette spoke aloud, her kwami peeking out from her cleavage, a favorite hiding spot of her's during the cold time of year, because of the warmth. "That was awful."

"It's could've been worse..." Tikki tried to sound encouraging, but her words had an air of uncertainty in them. They both knew Marinette was right.

"It could've been a whole lot better, too." She sighed. She was rather enjoying her walk home, as the crisp air was biting enough to rouse her out of whatever heated state she had been in, and the low impact excersize gave her the chance to clear her head and think reasonably.

In hindsight, she knew she could've handled that so much better than she did. She knew she probably left him feeling awful and guilt clawed at her chest. She hadn't meant to come across like she was rejecting him, as he most likely took it as. But in the moment, she genuinely could think of nothing else besides, how can you say all that when you don't even know my first name?

Yet.

He didn't know her first name, yet.

She let out an audible sigh and the sprite in her shirt responded with a giggle.

"There was no way you've expected him to say all that, Marinette." As always, Tikki was reading her mind. "You were overwhelmed with emotion, no one can blame you for not thinking clearly. There's no right way to react to that, after all."

"Yeah, I guess, but..." She let out a frustrated sigh as she rounded a corner, her home in sight. "I just feel bad."

They put a pause in their conversation as Marinette approached the bakery and Tikki ducked back down into her sweater. Marinette offered a friendly greeting to some passing neighbors, entered her home, and was welcomed by her worried parents.

She had already conjured up a story of how her and Alya had sought refuge together after their school was attacked, and they'd waited until they knew it was safe to return home. She'd already texted Alya to, first ask if she was okay, and second to confirm the story just in case it ever came up around her parents. Alya not only accepted the story, but also said that she herself would use the excuse, as it was a much better story than telling her own parents that she'd actually been with Nino. Alya, of course, thought that the truth was that Marinette was with Adrien, and Marinette didn't bother to correct her, simply agreeing that, that was their story and they would stick to it.

Her parents bought the story easily, as she knew they would. The fact that she was safe was much more important to them than the fact that she should've been home hours ago. That was one of the few advantages to living in a city that was always under attack.

Bidding them both Goodnight, she climbed the steps to her bedroom before dropping her bag and slumping into her office chair, groaning as she did so. She should've expected that hard fall after being tackled to leave a lasting ache in her back. Tikki flew out of her sweater and took a seat on her desk.

"I should've had a better plan than that." Marinette started, their conversation resuming as if it hadn't stopped. "I absolutely didn't think that through well enough."

The kwami smiled affectionately. "Well, you tried, and that's still something, considering what you were trying to do. It's still a big step. And look at it this way," Her large eyes lit up and she gestured grandly with her small paws. "When the time comes that you do eventually reveal your identity to him, you'll be able to look back on this and laugh!"

Marinette let out a chuckle. Tikki was right, when she thought about it like that. Feeling somewhat comforted, she rose to her feet and began the process of changing into her at-home clothes. She donned a white camisole and pink pajama shorts, pulling on a black zip-up hoodie to combat the chill that would inevitably creep into her attic bedroom. She stood for a moment more before deciding to pull on some knee high black socks as well. She did have hard wood floors after all.

She settled back down in her chair, and winced as a soreness pulsed through her back. She had taken a pretty hard fall, but she brushed it off. It wasn't the first time she'd been sore after a fight and it damn sure wouldn't be the last. She was intent on doing some more sketching as she thought out a better plan for her next attempt, and also a way to make it up to Chat Noir for the way she'd reacted to his...

What was that even?

A love confession?

She supposed that was what he had been getting at, even though he hadn't actually said it like that. The idea made her chest feel tight again.

She'd wondered before if he had been serious when he made passes at her, or if he was just a flirt.

He had literally said to her, I'm serious about you.

He told her that she was his everything.

And hearing it made her heart swell. Now, thinking back to it, she felt a powerful warmth start in her chest and spread through her body and she had the sudden urge to bounce and squeal like she was fourteen again. A huge smile made it's home on her face and she couldn't hold it in even if she wanted to.

And then it vanished as a new thought came to mind.

"Oh my God, he poured his heart out to me and I ran away!" She said out loud, giddiness suddenly replaced with distress. "I might've broken his little heart, he probably thinks that I was rejecting him. God, what did I do?"

She buried her face in her hands and her kwami floated up to nuzzle the top of her head.

"Calm down, Marinette, it's okay." She said in a soothing voice. "It was a mistake. Next time you see him, you can just calmly explain that you were so taken back by his words, that you didn't know what to do. It's the truth, isn't it?"

"It is, but..." She sighed dramatically and plucked Tikki from her hair so she could roll her head back to stare at the ceiling. After a moment, she straightened herself up again and met eyes with the sprite who now sat in her palm. "What if he's mad? What if it gets weird between us next time we have to fight, and we don't work as well as a team? Or what if I do apologize and he accepts but then he wants to know what I actually think?"

Tikki's eyes became lidded in a stern express which almost looked comical on her tiny face. "You know he could never stay mad, and I really don't think he's the type to demand an answer from you about his feelings. Remember earlier, he said it was okay if you weren't ready. And you're not ready. He understands that-"

She was interrupted by a loud and almost insistent knock, coming from the hatch leading to the balcony.

"Oh my God, Tikki," Marinette whispered. The knock, which happened occasionally and never really bothered her before, was on this night sending her into a small panic. "What do I do? What do I say?!"

"He still doesn't know it's you!" Tikki whispered back, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "Just do and say what feels right!"

And with that, she zipped away to hide.

Marinette took a moment to breath, willing her pulse back down to a reasonable level. She'd hadn't been expecting this, and she was not prepared. She didn't have a plan or any idea what to expect.

Well, here we go.

She rushed to pull some papers out of her backpack in an attempt to look like she had been doing something other than having a conversation with a sprite, before she yelled, "It's open!"

Slowly, almost painfully slow, Chat Noir opened the hatch, dropped down on her loft, and descended the steps down into her room. He had something tucked under his arm, which he gently laid down on the corner of her desk. It was her sketchbook.

"I think this is your's."

His voice was quiet and monotone. She studied him. His expression was blank, unreadable if you didn't know what to look for. His eyes were out of focus, his lips tilted down at the corners ever so slightly, his shoulders slumped. There was no cheerfulness in him, none of the usual jovial greetings. His body was stiff, arms hanging lifelessly at his sides.

"Thank you." She responded, taking the book and examining it. She remembered dropping it, but she didn't even realize she'd forgotten it. But honestly, she didn't give a damn about the sketchbook in that moment, so she set it aside. "Are you okay?"

Being asked if he was okay seemed to be the straw that started to brake him, as she saw his lips tremble as his resolve started to crumble. He shook his head without making eye contact.

"What's the matter?"

She knew what was the matter, and she wanted to punch herself in the face for doing this to him.

In an instant, he was on his knees before her, arms crossed over her lap and face buried in the crook of his elbow. He let out a few shaky breaths and she wondered if he was weeping. But when he finally looked up at her with the most heart wrenching expression, his eyes were dry.

"I fucked up, Marinette."

She wanted to cry.

"Oh, kitty," She rubbed his shoulder in wide circles while her other hand caressed his hair. She did her best to put on a comforting smile, despite her own heart clenching. "You didn't fuck up-"

"I did though, I completely fucked up!" He cried out. He removed his arms from her lap so he could drape himself limply over her, laying his cheek on her leg, the top of his head nuzzling into her stomach. His arms hung down on either side of the chair. She rubbed his back as he continued. "Ladybug doesn't love me..."

Pow, right in the heart.

"W-what give you that idea?"

He more or less ignored her question as he continued. "I thought everything was finally starting to fall into place because she said she'd be my date to the Mayor's Christmas thing and she said there was no one she'd rather go with than me! And..."

He leaned back and sat on his knees, looking up at her with those kitten eyes, and he brought his hands to his cheeks.

"And she did this thing where she held my face," his eyes slipped shut as his fingers imitated the way Ladybug had traced his face a week ago, and he missed how red Marinette's own cheeks were turning. "And she kissed my cheek and... I don't know, I know it was just a cheek peck, but it felt..." He let out a dreamy sigh to communicate how exactly it felt.

He opened his eyes, suddenly filled with excitement. "And she did it again today! It wasn't just me flirting, we were both flirting... with each other! She flirted back at me! It... it felt different today. We were different... there was this... energy in the air, I felt like it was pulling me towards her. And I know she felt it to, I could see it. I saw the way she looked at me, and at one point she even told me that I looked amazing..."

He trailed off, cheeks reddening, and seemed to decide against sharing that part of the story.

As if Marinette didn't know what he was referring to.

"Anyway," he rubbed the back of his neck, his energy calming down into something a bit more serious. "Marinette, she dropped her transformation. It didn't run out on accident, like I thought at the time, she purposefully let it run out."

True.

"She hugged me and I saw her hands... Her bare hands, Marinette!" He smiled warmly. "I know that doesn't seem like much, but they were her hands."

God, he was breaking her heart with how innocent he actually was. He was spilling praises with such child-like wonder, she was sick with herself for hurting him.

"I recognized her hands the instant I saw them..."

Oh God.

"I know I've seen those hands before..."

Oh Jesus.

"But I can not, for the life of me remember from where..."

Oh Thank Heaven.

"But Marinette, I do know her from somewhere. I know her as someone other than Ladybug. And, she said she changed her mind about us knowing each other's identities!"

She offered an 'Oh!', trying to sound surprised.

"But then I fucked up." The dark cloud returned to him, his face once again twisting into that pained expression that, Marinette decided, should never be on his face. "I don't know, she was nervous, and so was I, and I wanted to let her know that, whoever she is under that mask... won't change how I feel about her. I want her so bad, nothing could stop me from..." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I fucked up and told her that I love her..."

She did her best to stifle the sharp intake of breath from being too audible.

He hadn't actually said it.

But by Jove, he just did.

"... And I should've just kept my mouth shut. She got angry and ran off-"

"I... She wasn't angry." Marinette interrupted.

He looked up at her again with despair in his eyes, and spoke with an almost pleading tone. "How do you know?"

Marinette let out a sigh of her own. Despite the whirlwind of conflicting emotion tumbling around in her chest, she wanted nothing more than to sooth his sadness away. And acting in third person did help her put words to her feelings.

She reached out to cup his cheeks, brushing her thumbs over his skin. "Yeah, you came on a bit strong, but... she wasn't angry. Just surprised..." She bit her lip absentmindedly before continuing. "... and maybe a little bit over whelmed."

He scoffed, but still had that hurt in his eyes. "So I did scare her off."

"Ladybug ain't scared of anything."

He stared at the floor for a moment, and the shrugged. "Not like it matters, because she's probably never going to want to speak to me again-"

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic."

He continued like he didn't hear her. "I thought she was finally starting to like me... and I probably said too much and freaked her out. What if she doesn't want to be partners anymore?" At his last statement, his voice suddenly hitched. He sighed again and leaned his forehead against her knee. "I just really thought that it was starting to happen because she was being flirty and kissed my cheek and said she's be my date and..."

He stopped, the silence that followed was so stifling that Marinette began to worry over what he was going to say next. Slowly, he raised his head off her knee. His face was a painful mixture of heartbreak and realization. His eyes were glued to the floor, but were unfocused. When he spoke at last, his voice was quiet and sent a cold spike into Marinette's heart.

"...I was over thinking it, wasn't I?"

Wham, right in the chest.

"I got excited and hopeful and I imagined it all up."

Bang, right in the stomach.

"She was never interested in me..."

"Okay, stop."

Slowly, reluctantly almost, he raised his head to peer up at her through his messy bangs. She didn't know what she was going to say to him, but she did know that if he kept on like that, her heart might actually burst.

Tell him, Stupid! Tell him now!

"Um..."

Tell him!

"You weren't over thinking..."

Tell him, tell him, tell him, you selfish bitch!

He raised his head up just slightly to look at her properly.

"And you know that nothing would make her want to stop being partners with you."

Ugh, you coward, Marinette...

He sighed again. "But what if she does? What if it gets weird between us?"

"It won't."

"How do you know, though?" He twiddled his fingers absentmindedly. "I can't lose her, I just can't! I poured my heart out to her and she ran away. How can it not be weird after that?" He groaned and brought his hand up to his forehead.

She wanted to scoop him up and hold him and tell him that it was her fault and to not be upset, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Not only that, but she thought that revealing herself as Ladybug now, after he just recounted all the things that he felt about Ladybug, would probably make him feel more embarrassed rather than comforted.

"Just... trust me." She replaced her hand on his cheek and tried to will his anguish away. "Ladybug just... reacted poorly. But I... I think she was probably just not expecting all that, and she felt overwhelmed and didn't know what to do. She knows she shouldn't have run off on you like that, and I promise you, next time you see her, she'll apologize."

She continued, despite him making a small huff in disbelief. "I mean, now that you've explained it, I understand why you thought that was a good time for... for a confession like that, but at the time, it was just too much. Almost revealing my... her secret identity, plus hearing all that from you..."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, placing his hand atop her own on his cheek and leaning into it. He breathed deeply, eyes going out of focus. "I... I guess that makes sense. You're saying that I over loaded her, and that's why she ran off... ?"

She released a breath of relief. "Yes, exactly."

He peeled her hand off of his cheek and stood, turning and taking a few steps away. He stood with his back to her for a time before he let out a frustrated sound and collapsed face down on her lounger. He turned his head so she could hear his words without the barrier of the pillow.

"I'm sorry for just coming over here and venting all this to you, Marinette."

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "Oh no, it's okay."

"I just... really needed a friend..."

"You know I'll always be there for you."

Even after I run off on you...

He was silent after that, as was she. She wondered if he would believe her words or if he would chalk them up to her just trying to make him feel better.

After a long pause, he turned his head towards her, not looking at her but staring at nothing. "Assuming everything that you've said is true... that still leaves one thing though."

She tilted her head in curiosity. "What's that?"

"Ladybug doesn't feel the same towards me... as I feel towards her. Does she."

It wasn't a question. He said it like it was a harsh reality. A heartbreaking resignation. She saw his eyes well up with moisture and her throat about damn near closed up.

"She... she does feel something for you." She spoke quietly, unsure of her words, but certain in her delivery. He met her gaze but his expression didn't change. She continued. "She's..." She released a shaky breath and realized she had no idea how she could say this as Marinette. "She's just... nervous... and-"

"It's okay, Marinette." He said suddenly, and sat up. "You don't have to try and make me feel better."

"But it's true-"

"No, it's not." His words came out harsh, colder than he meant for them to. Marinette's mouth snapped shut. His brows knit together and he looked away. "I know Ladybug better than anyone. We're partners, and we've been partners for years. We can tell what each other is thinking half the time, that's why we fight so well together. I can tell when she's nervous." He squeezed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to crumble at what he would say next. "And I can tell when she's rejecting me... she's done it enough times before..."

He watched Marinette get this desperate look on her face, raising her hands slightly in almost a reaching gesture. "Chat, you..." She made a noise that he couldn't quite put an emotion to. "I can't really explain it, but you have to trust me when I tell you that I... know what's going on in her head, and-"

"No, I know what's going on in her head, and she doesn't want me."

Her face and body stance became slightly more defiant, but her voice remained, more or less, calm. She let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh, you have no idea what's going on in her head."

Why did that make him angry? He recalled from that day at school, talking to Marinette about Ladybug and learning that she knew her, Marinette said she knew her about as well as she knew herself. He didn't quite know what she meant by that, but she probably did know her better than he did. But for some reason, having her tell him he didn't know what was going on her head... he was her partner! Of course he did!

...Didn't he?

Although his confidence on that particular subject wavered, he wouldn't allow Marinette to see. He felt a strange possessiveness rise up in him, and when he spoke, his words were thick with defiance.

"Nobody knows Ladybug better than me."

Marinette didn't falter, looked him straight in the eye, and spoke confidently without missing a beat.

"What's her first name?"

Oh.

They stared at each other for a long moment, his bravado fading with each passing second. She was looking at him with that stare again, the one where he was sure she could see through him. The intense look did nothing to calm his nerves and suddenly he felt very insecure. He should've known better than to challenge her. He knew that she knew more about Ladybug than him. But that begged a question.

"You... you do know her first name, don't you?" He asked quietly, hopefulness rising in his tone.

Marinette looked at him a moment longer before nodding slowly. "It's like I said earlier-"

"Why do you know and I don't?!" He said suddenly, fists gripping the edge of the lounger. "I'm her partner!"

"Oh, c'mon!" She smacked her palms to her forehead in exasperation.

"No, tell me, why do you know her and I don't?" He demanded. He leaned forward, looking almost threatening.

Marinette leaned her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands, groaning as she did. "You're really going to make me say it, aren't you." She said it quietly, she couldn't decide if she wanted him to hear her or not.

If he did hear her, he ignored it. "Actually, what I really want to know is, how are you so sure that she ran off from me because she was nervous? How can you say she feels something for me and be so sure?" His voice had started in a demanding tone, but as he went on, it became more pleading.

"I just know, okay?" She said defensively. "You just have to trust me, I told you, I know what's going on in her head." She peeked at him, her fingers moving to run through her hair.

He let out a groan of his own, leaning back on his hands and squeezing his eyes shut. His head rolled back and he stared up at the ceiling. When he looked back down at her, his shoulders relaxed from their previous tension. "I'm sorry, Marinette, I don't mean to argue with you, I'm just... ugh, I'm so frustrated!"

"I know, hun." She was too, but she kept it to herself.

He breathed out an audible huff through his nose. When he first learned that Marinette knew Ladybug and came up with the idea of using her as a wing woman of sorts, this isn't at all what he had in mind. This whole situation was just going to shit, and despite the fact that she sounded so completely sure of herself, he couldn't shake the notion that she could just be telling him what she knew he wanted to hear so that he would cheer up. And while it made a part of him very thankful to think that she cared enough to just want to see him happy, at that moment, he wanted to truth. Not a sugarcoated encouragement. And call him crazy, he knew that Marinette did know the truth. He just couldn't tell if she was telling it to him or not. And the idea was driving him crazy.

What's more, why did it seem like she was taking this so personally?

"Marinette, please..." He looked at her until she faced him again without her hands over her forehead. "Just... tell me what I'm supposed to do now. I'm so lost, I don't know what to think or how to feel. Just tell it to me straight." The emotion in his eyes increased tenfold.

"Why did she run away when I told her my feelings?"

"Because she's scared you won't like the girl under the mask."

He was visible taken back by her sudden answer. "What? That's... that's silly. I told her, with or without the mask-"

"It's easy to say that when you don't actually know whose under the mask." She looked almost offended, though he couldn't understand why. "You idolize her, you talk about her like she could cure cancer just by smiling at you, I've never seen you light up the way you just did when you were describing her, you practically worship her. You think she's perfect. She is not perfect, she is so far from perfect..."

She sighed and dipped her head, like the weight of her own words were coming down on her, and he briefly wondered if she might be jealous of Ladybug. "You don't talk about her like she's a person. You talk about her like she's a God or something. And that's a lot of fucking pressure..."

"Marinette, I don't get it, what are you saying?"

She bit her lower lip, looking very contemplative. His only hint that she was nervous was her chest, which he noticed was trembling ever so slightly from her short, shallow breathing.

"I... I told you." She began slowly. "It was overwhelming." She looked away from him, staring down at her hands, which were folded together on her desk. "I mean... that's a tall order, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Y-you can't just... drop something like that on someone and expect them not to react."

She didn't look at him. She couldn't. He didn't say anything after that, and she prayed that she wouldn't need to say anything more. Those were the exact words he had used earlier with Ladybug. Surely, he would connect the dots now?

"Marinette...?"

"Yeah?"

She still didn't look at him directly, but from her peripheral vision, she saw him shift about anxiously from his spot on the lounger. His voice held a nervousness to it and she couldn't interpret whether or not he had in fact picked up on what she was trying to say.

"Does Ladybug feel anything for me?"

If he hadn't figured it out already, she was sure the burning blush on her cheeks would give her away now.

"Um..."

She drew in a nervous breath, and released it.

"I..."

The clenching returned to her chest, but this time, it was not from despair.

"I think... she always has... felt something for you, b-but she's just recently started to realize... how d-deep it was."

As soon as she said it out loud, she thought of Adrien. Was she really choosing Chat Noir over him? She hadn't wanted to voice her affections until she was absolutely sure of them, but in that moment, she just wanted Chat to be happy.

That was wrong.

Marinette firmly believed that the cruelest thing you could do to someone was tell them you love them when you don't. Giving someone false hope was worse than any direct insult. And while it was technically true what she had said, as she did feel something for him, she knew she was not yet ready to promise him her whole heart.

Earlier that same day, she had repeated the face caressing on Adrien. Reason being, similarly to why she did it on Chat, she wanted to know how it felt. She wanted to see how it made her feel, and see if she'd want to do it again. With Chat, there was no doubt in her mind that she did indeed want to touch him again, feel his skin, and see the look in his eyes when she did. With Adrien... her reaction wasn't as strong. It felt like it wasn't the first time she'd done that to him. She'd be lying if she said she'd felt nothing, but it wasn't quite the same. Or rather, it was the same. Strikingly similar. Adrien had reacted exactly the same way Chat had, from the look in his eyes, to the way his breath hitched. If her eyes had been closed, she could've almost sworn they were the same person.

As if she would be so lucky.

Perhaps she would choose Chat Noir over Adrien, she had certainly been leaning more towards him recently. But she still had Adrien in her heart.

Maybe it was nerves getting to her, because Chat Noir was right here in front of her and had directly asked her if she had feelings for him. Perhaps the feeling of being pressured into revealing her feelings was causing her to retreat. As soon as he left, the pressure would be gone and she could think clearly.

Right?

Meanwhile, Chat Noir himself had realized that it was not jealousy that made Marinette say what she said, it was something else entirely. He was tossing a few ideas around in his head. There were a few possibilities, he decided.

The first, was that Marinette was psychic, and using her psychic powers, had looked into his mind, right into the memory he had of the events from the rooftop with Ladybug, and that's how she knew exactly what he had said to Ladybug, down to the exact wording. And it was by pure chance that Marinette and Ladybug had the exact same pair of piercing, sapphire eyes, as he was just now realizing.

The second possibility, was that Marinette was actually a very talented spy, and she had actually witnessed the whole thing with her own eyes, unbeknownst to either superhero. Or perhaps there was a security camera on that rooftop that she had access to. And she also just so happen to have the same thick, raven locks that Ladybug had.

Pure coincidence, he was sure.

The third and most likely possibility, in his opinion, was that Marinette and Ladybug were actually long lost identical twins and were definitely not the same person.

Because that was impossible.

Right?

Right?

He didn't say anything and she still didn't look at him. He could see the oh so familiar anxiety in the way her shoulders trembled and her breathing was deliberate and shaky, the sight was oh so very Marinette.

She didn't hear him get up, she didn't hear him approach her, and she didn't realize he was standing behind her until he reached out and lightly grasped both her wrists in his hands (a startled breath escaped her at the contact), gently pull her hands free of one another, and then held them both in his own hands.

She couldn't see him, as her eyes were locked straight ahead of her. She took in the sight of his gloves, his claws, everything, as he weighed, turned, and all around examined her hands. She could feel his energy behind her. His body was close, not quite touching her, but she could hear his breathing just above her head. It wasn't until he seemed to find what he was looking for that he pulled away, not before making a small gasping sound, his hands just ghosting away from hers', that she realized what he had been doing.

She heard him take a few steps back and she still couldn't bring herself to turn and look at him. Her hands hung limply in the air in front of her for a moment, but she slowly brought them together again, cupping one in the other, and brought them both to her chest.

Ladybug's bare hands had been the one part of her that he saw when she dropped her transformation.

"Marinette."

His voice, although quiet, sounded loud and piercing in the otherwise silent room.

"Look at me."

She tried. She couldn't.

"Marinette, look at me." He voice was harder now, more demanding.

"I..."

She didn't expect him to forcibly spin her chair around, she didn't expect him to slam his hands down on the arms of her chair, effectively cornering her, and she certainly didn't expect him to suddenly be right in her face, staring her down.

"Look at me."

That time, the words were barely a whisper. But combined with how close his face was, and the almost pleading look in his eyes, they had the biggest punch.

She tried to put on a brave face, tried to harden her gaze, and even tried to come back with a quip about him not telling her what to do. But all that she managed to do was will her gasp down to a less audible breathy sound.

They stared at each other, her eyes wide, his eyes searching. He looked almost desperate as his gazed wondered over her face, looking for something. The tightness returned to her chest with more ferocity the longer he stared at her, she knew he was searching her features for Ladybug.

And apparently, he found her.

His eyes twitched, pupils blown wide in recognition. He slowly removed his hands from the arms of her chair and took a step backwards, never breaking eye contact.

The air was suddenly thick with tension again, not at all like before. The unspoken truth hung over their heads and neither wanted to be the one to verbally acknowledge it. Chat Noir looked very much like he would either pass out or retreat, while Marinette was slowly trying to calm herself by silently repeating This is what you wanted.

Not the reveal she had pictured, but then again, she had never pictured it. Only mused about ways she could go about it.

Chat Noir, her partner, knew her secret identity. The secret she had guarded for years, the secret she kept from him simply because she thought she should, was now laid out before him.

She expected to feel some kind of relief, having finally completed the task which she had assigned herself. She'd been thinking about this for months, and actively planing it for weeks. The intention was that once it was all out in the open, at least between the two of them, there would be no more secrets. She would finally be able to stop pretending like she was two entities. When he visited her as Marinette, she would no longer need to pretend she wasn't the same girl who made the rooftops of Paris their playground.

She had imagined that revealing her civilian self to him would... somehow make Ladybug seem more real. He'd often go on about how otherworldly and amazing she was, and she wanted so much to show him that, no, she was just as human as everyone else. It was exhausting being Ladybug. She needed to be able to be vulnerable and flawed and she wanted someone who saw both sides and didn't think less of her. Ladybug could be vulnerable, just like Marinette could be amazing without the mask. That's why she wanted him to know her identity in the first place. She had expected to feel relief upon finally revealing that to him.

She didn't.

Very much the opposite.

Panic and regret and... what was that? Hurt? Yes, hurt. He had not yet reacted and was just continuing to stare at her. She didn't know what she expected him to do, but the longer he stood there, gaping, the more powerful her insecurities became, and she realized that she might have just ruined everything. She was sure that he didn't expect his partner and love interest to be the same person that he would visit after an easy fight or uneventful patrol, but was he really that disappointed? Would he never visit Marinette again? Never look at Ladybug with the same adoration again? Would it be awkward now?

He had been wanting to know her identity since they first became partners, and now he couldn't even work up a reaction?

She turned away from him when she realized her lip had began to tremble.

"Well..." She started. She hadn't planned to be the one to break first, but she couldn't stand the silence anymore. She turned her back to him, removing all sight of him from her peripheral vision. "It's getting pretty late, so..."

He still said nothing, and she could no longer see his face. A burning feeling rose up her chest and prickled behind her eyes. She blinked furiously, refusing to let tears flow.

"...so... th-thank you for bringing me my sketchbook."

Her voice cracked as she spoke. She squeezed her eyes shut, a few tears escaping as she did, and she drew in a deep breath through her nose. She was embarrassed to find that it took quite a bit of effort to keep silent, as what she really wanted to do was sob.

Well, if this sorry display didn't drive home the fact that she was indeed very vulnerable, she didn't know what would. No wonder he was disappointed. Ladybug, the girl who carried Paris on her shoulders, the girl who could best foes who were ten times her size, the girl who once defeated five enemies with a power cord and a yoyo, was sitting here, literally struggling to keep from crying like a bitch.

She knew that she wasn't always right, there were plenty of times when she acted rashly, but she had never been weak before. After everything that the had been through together, all the enemies they faced, all the battles they'd fought and won, the thing that finally broke her was the fact that her partner was stunned silent by learning her true identity.

She hadn't even noticed him move, but suddenly he was standing behind her again. She saw his hand out of the corner of her eye. He didn't touch her, but his hand lingered in the air above her shoulder. His fingers twitched, withdrew slightly, then slowly lowered down to touch her. She didn't react to the touch.

He didn't turn her around, as he had done before. He didn't say anything. But when she didn't reject his touch, he squeezed her shoulder in his palm, placed his other hand on her other shoulder, and coaxed her to lean back in her chair.

She didn't wipe the tear from her cheeks, deciding that she didn't care if he saw them. It was ridiculous to expect a person, especially someone who saved lives as an extracurricular activity, to be completely headstrong and stoic all the time.

When her chair leaned back as far as it would go, he lightly trailed his hands from her shoulders, across her collarbone, up to her jaw, and lightly nudged her to tilt her head back. She did so reluctantly after squeezing her eyes shut.

She felt a light pressure, warm and soft, on her forehead. She opened her eyes and found her vision clouded by the black leather of his mask, his own eyes shut as he kissed her forehead.

Oddly enough, it was the sudden and very unexpected show of affection that caused a feeling of relief wash over her. She had been so sure this was terrible idea, and with one little action that took less than a second, he had her reassured. The tears welled up in her eyes once more, but for a new reason.

It was silence, save for the sound of their mixed breathing. Her's, choppy and his, deep. Her neck was beginning to feel the strain of her position, but she dare not voice it.

He pulled back from her just enough that they could look into each other's upside down eyes. She could tell he was smiling by the way his eyes scrunched up at the corners. She saw wetness threaten to spill from his eyes as well.

A single tear did escape, landing on her cheek. He pulled away quickly, taking a step back again. She rolled her neck once, to ease the discomfort, and then turned to look at him. He was facing away from her this time, towards the window with one hand on his hip. A small sliver of his face was still visible. The apples of his cheeks were pronounced from his wide smile. He had a single finger up under his eyes in an attempt to inconspicuously dab away his tears.

She blinked at him, her own remaining tears spilling freeing down her cheeks. He was smiling and crying.

"U-um.." He coughed, voice broken a bit, and then cleared his throat. "You're welcome..." He coughed again. "F-for your sketchbook, I mean. Uh..."

He didn't face her, but she realized she could make out his reflection in the glass pane of the window. His expression melted her heart. His smile was wide, very wide. His eyebrows knit together and his eyes shined. He looked about ready to burst.

"B-but, it is getting late so..." He stopped, his eyes suddenly going wide, smiling dropping, and it was hard to tell from his reflection in the glass, but his cheeks seemed to darken considerably. His synthetic cat ears went flat against his head as his eyes darted around, and he accidentally made eye contact through the reflection of the window.

He smiled again and waved awkwardly. She let out a chuckle and gave him a questioning expression. He laughed, although clearly uncomfortable, and finally turned to face her properly.

He still looked ready to burst, but not for the same reason. His cheeks were indeed much darker than they had been, his smile forced and eyes wide, and she wondered why he was suddenly so nervous.

"Well," he said, hands behind his back and rocking on the balls of his feet. "I-I guess I'll say goodnight now..." He inched his way to the stairs that lead to the balcony. "A-and... we can just forget about everything I said earlier... Hehehe..."

Ah. So that's where his nervous energy came from.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. And after a brief moment, he laughed too, though the nervous tension didn't leave him.

When her laughter subsided, she sighed comfortably and smiled at him. "It's okay. You said some things, I said some things..."

"Oh God, you did...!" His hands covered his mouth as he stared again. His cheeks were still beet red, but his eyes told her he was smiling again behind his gloves. "I...I..."

"Goodnight, Chaton."

She smiled warmly at him, and she felt her own cheeks heat up. His hands dropped, revealing his own heart melting smile. He lowered himself down to one knee, as he had done countless times before, took her hand and pressed his lips to it. When he looked back up and made eye contact again, his signature Chat Noir grin was back in place and in full effect.

"Goodnight." He stood and bounded up to her loft. "Milady." And with that, he was gone.

In the instant he left, she felt so emotionally drained, that she didn't even bother trying to think about what had just happened and figure out how she should feel about it. She had plenty of time to worry about that... tomorrow.

Also in the instant he left, Tikki made an appearance. The kwami hovered before her chosen, a large, giddy smile on her face.

"That was so cute!" the kwami cooed. "How do you feel, Marinette?"

She gave her a tired smile. "I feel like I'm ready for bed."

...

There had been many occasions where Chat Noir had run home with a quickness, but never had he gotten home that quick. The leather clad hero sprinted across the rooftops of Paris as if the devil himself were at his heels.

Because he knew the instant he stopped, the instant the loud rush of wind in his ears was gone and could no longer drowned out his thoughts, he would start thinking. And as soon as he started thinking, he'd start over-thinking. And once that happened, he'd be done for. He wanted to at least be home and out of the cold first.

He'd completely forgotten about the fact that he hadn't come home after school, and considering the akuma attack, he was sure all the parents had been notified. That's what usually happened. Fuck. He'd have to come up with a story as to why he was out so late.

He landed around the corner from his home and detransformed. He checked his phone to see what time it actually was, almost 9, and realized his phone had been blowing up while he was transformed.

(6 Missed Calls From Home)

(10 New Messages From Nino)

-Dude, you still with Marinette?

-Alya told me you were with Marinette when the attack happened. Yall okay?

-Bro, you guys good?

-Adrien?

-Alya and I were hiding out together too.

-Just talked to Alya, she talked to Marinette. Said you guys are okay.

-If anyone asks, the story is you and I were waiting out the attack together, without the girls. Marinette and Alya are telling their folks they were together without us. We're all each other's alibis. Marinette's idea.

-Tell your old man he can call my dad if he needs. He bought the story. Alya's and Mari's folks did too.

- What'd you and Marinette talk about?

- (;

Well, that solved one of his problems, but it also caused him to get smacked in the face with another problem. He wasn't ready to start freaking out yet, he needed to be safely in his room before that happened, but he couldn't stop one thought from forming.

Of course Marinette would be the one to form a perfect alibi that they could all use, she was probably very experienced in coming up with excuses as to where she was all the time because she was Ladybug!

Gah! No! Not yet! Just get in the damn house first!

He'd been more or less ignoring Plagg, who hadn't stopped laughing since emerging from his ring. He took the kwami, albeit a bit too harshly, and shoved him into the breast pocket of his jacket as he jogged up to the front gates of the Agreste mansion.

As he had expected, his father was waiting for him. He had grown accustom to the cold demeanor of his father, and had anticipated as much when he came home well after the time he should have, without so much a phone call. He was a bit taken aback when the man seemed to be genuinely concerned.

Gabriel told him that he heard that the akuma attack had been close to the school. Close enough to damage part of the structure. He made sure to give Adrien at least some what of a lecture about calling when he knew he was going to be out late, but not before making sure that his son was safe and unharmed.

He hadn't even needed to use the excuse Nino had provided for him, as Gabriel didn't ask for one. He merely stated that they'd discuss this more later, but for now, he should get some rest. That would've thrown him off on any other night, but on this night, he was grateful for being let off easy.

He had much more important things to think about.

With what little remaining sanity he had left, he calmly ascended the stairs, entered his bedroom, gently shut the door behind him, and then broke.

First, his body wanted to crash. He collapsed on the corner of his bed, but then his body decided that it was a good time for a burst of anxious adrenaline, so he rolled off of it, onto the floor and began a strange sort of wiggle that involved him curling and uncurling himself, all the while he let loose a chain of swears and sayings that didn't make sense. He didn't know whether to shout or hiss, so he groaned instead. Eventually, he was gripping at his face and hair while rolling around and rocking back and forth, making a noise that could only be compared to that of an angry goat.

Plagg watched this sorry display with amusement for a time, but quickly became embarrassed on Adrien's behalf.

"Kid!" He called more than once, but he was ignored. Best to wait it out, he decided.

"Marinette Ladybug... same!" Adrien managed to squeak out, face hidden in his hands.

"Let's use our big kid words, huh?"

"Gonna wife that girl."

"That's... better?"

Was he more exhilarated or mortified? He couldn't decided. He'd been trying to figure out her identity for years now, and he finally got it. She wanted him to know! She told him she had feelings for him! He let out a squeal that he was sure could rival that of any fangirl. As if to complete the picture, his hands balled into fists just below his chin, and he even gave a little kick of his feet.

Immediately after releasing the noise, the fog of bliss lifted and his shame caught up to him. He rolled onto his knees and curled in on himself as tightly as he could.

He had gone to Marinette to vent about his despair over Ladybug. He had literally gone to Ladybug to bitch and moan... about Ladybug!

He ran through some of the things he had said to her in his mind, and quickly realized he'd rather set himself on fire than face the reality of what he'd done. Looking back, now knowing who she was, he must've looked like such a fool. A goddamned lovestruck idiot.

He had gotten mad at her when she told him he didn't know what was going on in her head!

She was referring to herself the whole time!

He had looked her in the goddamn eyes and said, Ladybug doesn't love me.

He looked Ladybug herself in the goddamn eyes and-

"Oh my God, Plagg, please tell me I didn't actually do that!" He cried out, finally uncurling himself to look for the kwami.

Said kwami, whom he found lounging on the desk, merely rolled his eyes at his chosen. "Kid, you know I can't actually read your mind, what ever are you referring to, specifically?" There was an air of amusement in his voice.

"Any of it! Please tell me I didn't actually look Ladybug in the eyes and whine about how Ladybug ran off after I told her my feelings, please tell me that didn't happen."

"That didn't happen."

"Don't lie to me!" He shouted as he resumed his nervous rocking. He felt sick, physically nauseated.

"Well, technically," Plagg said, his tone suggesting he was not in the comforting mood. "You looked Marinette in the eyes and whined about how Ladybug ran off-"

"Marinette is Ladybug!"

It felt weird to actually say it. The jumble of words he'd released earlier didn't really count as actually saying it, but just now, he really said it. The phrase felt foreign on his tongue, like learning a new language. He said it again.

"Marinette is Ladybug..."

Once more, but reverse it.

"Ladybug... is Marinette."

It still didn't sound real. Even though he knew it was. He'd taken extra care to observe Ladybug's hands, and he knew he'd seen them before. After seeing Marinette's hands for the second time that day, it all fell into place. They were the same pair of hands.

And even without the hand thing, he saw her. He looked into her eyes and saw her.

He always looked at Marinette and expected to see Marinette. He'd always looked at Ladybug and saw Ladybug. But once he looked at Marinette while looking for Ladybug... she was right there. And then once he saw her, everything else fell into place. All Marinette's strange Ladybug knowledge, the fact that she'd never been akumatized, the fact that Marinette was never really starstruck over Chat Noir like most other girls, the incident with the Evillustrator, Marinette's constant disappearing... Everything just made sense and he felt as though this wasn't new information. This was one of those things that he felt like he'd been told once before, but had forgotten even thought that wasn't the case. He felt like he'd known the whole time. Now that he knew, he couldn't deny how obvious it was.

In hindsight, he realized how blind he must have been to not see it before. Now that he thought about it, they looked exactly the same...

Well, duh, genius. They are the same person.

Before today, he had never considered the possibility that Marinette was Ladybug. Marinette was his good friend from school, his sweet classmate, the cute one in his small circle of friends. She was shy and clumsy in an endearing way. She was cute and modest and soft spoken, but she also was an amazing leader and wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in. She was passionate and detail-oriented, resourceful and creative...

Ladybug was his Lady. His partner, his other half, and though he probably didn't say it much, he considered her his best friend. Nino was Adrien's best friend, but Ladybug was Chat Noir's best friend, and he always thought that he was more of himself as Chat Noir. Ladybug was proud and strong, caring and compassionate, stubborn and reckless at times, but not too proud to admit when she was wrong. She made mistakes and she learned from them, never making the same mistake twice. She was sexy and she was a badass.

And he was hopelessly in love with her.

Which in turn, meant that Marinette was actually the object of his undying affection.

Marinette... cute, sweet, clumsy Marinette, was secretly a sexy badass.

"So what do you think?" Plagg's voice interrupted him from his thoughts.

Adrien looked up at him again, he'd forgotten that he was still on the floor. He dragged himself up to sit on his bed as he pondered the question.

"I think... that Ladybug and Marinette..." He sighed and laid back on the mattress. "I know they are the same person, but they still seem so different."

"Well," the kwami offered. "Adrien and Chat Noir are pretty different, too."

"Hmm..." He nodded in response.

"Are you upset?"

"Not at all! Just... surprised, I guess." He kicked off his shoes as he spoke. "I mean, what are the odds that the girl I've been trying to find was actually right in front of me the whole time? Or, behind me, rather."

"Do you still think she's amazing and perfect and... what was it you said, that she's your everything?"

Did he? Did his affections go to Marinette just like that? It had been her the whole time, she was Ladybug. He had said, whoever she was behind the mask, he loved that girl. And that girl was Marinette. Did her being Marinette make him doubt his true affections, ever a little bit? He felt like perhaps, the smart thing to do would be for him to take a moment to assess the situation before deciding. But the reality was, he didn't care what the smart thing was, he didn't feel any differently. Ladybug and Marinette were the same person, she was one person. And she was his everything.

He sat up and fixed his eyes on the kwami, and spoke firmly. "Yes."

"Does she know that?"

Adrien cocked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Plagg sighed and floated over to the blonde, hovering in front of his face. "Look, this whole pep talk about feelings thing isn't really my strong point, but I'm still your kwami, and I'm supposed to look out for you. I honestly didn't expect Ladybug to ever reveal her identity to you, much less tell you she had feelings for you. But here's the deal. I've been around for a long time, I've seen it go sour in the past, and I don't want that for you. The reveal of identities is a delicate thing, and you really should feel honored that Marinette trusted you with this."

Adrien was taken back by his usually aloof kwami's sudden serious tone, but he dare not voice it. He wanted to soak up whatever help the black cat had to offer, so he listened faithfully.

"Do you remember what she said right before?" Plagg asked.

"Uhh..."

"She said that she was scared you wouldn't like the girl under the mask."

Adrien's eyes widened. After everything else, he'd completely forgotten that one detail. She had indeed said that. Plagg took Adrien's expression as cue to continue.

"She knows you think the world of Ladybug, and she was obviously concerned that, that same adoration might not transfer to Marinette."

"B-but... but I told her..."

"Tell her again." He said firmly. "Tell her again, now that you actually know who she is under that mask. I care about you, Kid, I want to see you happy. I don't want you to fuck this up, I've seen it happen too many times before."

Adrien felt he was seeing a side of Plagg he'd never seen before. The sprite was never this sincere on anything other than cheese. It was easy to forget the Plagg was actually thousands of years old and had probably seen everything at least once. His voice had never been so serious as it was now, and for the first time, Adrien realized that, while it was easy to brush it under the rug because it had become just a normal part of their lives, being Ladybug and Chat Noir was actually a really big fucking deal.

"She trusted you with her identity. Take care of it. That's such a precious thing. Don't be a smart ass, don't tease her, and don't take this lightly. This is supposed to bring you closer. Do your best to not treat her any different than you did before. That will show her that you're opinion of her hasn't changed."

"Plagg..." He subconsciously brought his hands up to scoop the kwami out of the air and hold him. "Did... did you know it was Marinette?"

"Had no idea." He didn't allow Adrien to hold him for long, as he once again floated up to hover in front of him. "I'm serious though, Adrien. If you don't want to lose her. Tell her again." With that, he zipped away to settle himself in his usual spot on the desk.

Plagg was right, Adrien thought. He had to tell her again. Now that she wasn't in front of him, he could think a bit more clearly and he realized that there were many more things that needed to be said. He'd been so embarrassed, he'd left in a rush. But Plagg was right, and if he was as serious about her as he claimed, which he was, he had to do this right.

His first instinct was to pick up his cell phone. It was getting late, but it wasn't that late. Surely, she'd still be awake, if not just getting ready for bed.

Wait. She had his cell phone number. Chat Noir couldn't call from Adrien's phone. That couldn't be the way he revealed his identity, that was stupid. Ah, but she didn't have his home phone number.

After checking to make sure no one was using it and situating himself in his desk chair, he held the device in his hands as he mentally prepared himself. He gave himself a mental list of everything he wanted to say.

And for some reason, it was at that moment that he remembered all the teasing and sexual tension that had occurred earlier that day. Except, in the memory, it was Marinette that whispered "Down, boy." as she leaned against him. It was Marinette's thigh that he reached back and grabbed. It was Marinette that literally used her body to shielded him from an explosion. It was Marinette that looked him over and told him how amazing and vulnerable he looked. And it was Marinette that made him moan just by kissing his cheek.

His face felt hot and he allowed himself a moment to act like a fool, burying his head in his hands and releasing another squeak. He forced his breathing to calm down, and then told himself to buck up before he lost his nerve. Looking up her number from his cell, he dialed the number and hit 'call' quickly, not giving himself time to chicken out.

"Remember," he heard Plagg say to him. "You are Chat Noir!"

"I am Chat Noir!" He repeated. It rang.

It rang again.

"I am Chat Noir..." He whispered to himself. Never before had a dial tone made him panic.

It rang a third time.

She wasn't going to answer.

As the fourth ring sounded, he was sure she wouldn't answer and he wondered if he should hang up or leave a message, but it cut short.

It was a moment before he actually heard anything. The voice that finally came through was soft, quiet, a bit raspy, and very much the sleepy voice of his Lady.

"Hello?"

Ladybug was on the other end of this call. He was on the phone with Ladybug. When had he lost his voice? Find it, quick!

"H-hi."

A pause. She answered. "Hi." She sounded confused.

"U-um, it's me." He said quietly. "It's Chat Noir."

Another pause. When she responded this time, her voice was no longer confused, but rather warm. "Hey."

"I...um..." Of course, now that he had her, his mind had gone blank. "I-I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

He heard her let out a quiet hum. "No, I wasn't asleep yet." From the sound of it, she was probably just about to fall asleep when he called.

"Oh, good. Um..." Do it, just do it. "Listen... I'm sorry for calling so late, Milady, but... this couldn't wait."

There was a long pause. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!" He assured her. "I just needed you to know..."

He drew in a deep breath, and then continued. "I-I just wanted to say... that this doesn't change anything. I said that, with or without the mask, I think you're amazing and I still feel that way." He let out a breathy chuckle. "Actually, I can say it with confidence now. With or without the mask, you are amazing..."

He trailed off. It felt so good to say. It felt so good to say it and mean it, and to finally know who he was talking about. Being on the phone with her, hearing her voice as she was just on the brink of sleep, soft, quiet, and demure... he felt like he was talking to his lover that he'd been apart from for a long time. He heard her breathing change as he spoke, but she had yet to answer, so he continued.

"Ladybug is amazing in her own way, and Marinette is amazing in her own different way, and the fact that those two beautiful, amazing women are the same person... God, you're incredible."

She made a soft noise, followed by a sleepy giggle, but he kept on.

"Earlier, you said... you said you were scared that I wouldn't like who was under the mask. A-and, I was thinking about that after I left, and after... you know, I got over being mortified over all the shit I said. But anyway! I just really wanted you to know that, not only do I feel so much closer to you now..."

His breath caught in his throat. He paused, and continued.

"But I'm also, like... ten times more attracted to you..." He trailed off again. He couldn't help the shyness that crept into his voice, but given what he was saying, he hoped that it would help convey his sincerity. "I think... I think I've always been attracted to you as Marinette, but I didn't really want to acknowledge it because Ladybug was the one who had my heart, Ladybug was, is my whole world, you are my everything! A-and... I just wanted you to know that I am so happy that it's you under the mask-"

"Stop..." She said at last. Her voice was still quiet and she sounded breathless. "Chaton, you're going to make me cry..." He heard a sound that he couldn't place as laughter or a sob, but the soft giggle that followed set him at ease.

He had started rambling, he realized, but it was okay. He meant it and he was honestly proud of himself for putting it out there with only minor stuttering. He released a soft chuckle of his own, letting his voice drop into a lower register. "Don't cry, Bugaboo."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

There was a beat of silence before she whispered, "For running away from you after you..."

"O-oh, no, it's okay, I understand why you did." He chuckled as he subconsciously rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for overwhelming you."

"It's okay, but I reacted poorly."

"Well, I'm sorry... for literally everything else that happened after that." He laughed nervously. "Thinking back to all the whining I did... I am so embarrassed."

She hummed, which turned into a soft laugh. "It's okay."

They both fell silence. It was a comfortable silence that neither felt the need to break. There was something so exciting and comforting about having her on the phone and being able to lay everything out there. No awkwardness, no judgement, all their cards were on the table. Before visiting her, he had dreaded the idea of bringing up such topics with Ladybug. Not because he didn't want to, he desperately did. But not knowing how she'd react, the possibility of it becoming awkward between them... He couldn't handle all the things that lingered, left unsaid, all the unspoken energy that they both felt but couldn't acknowledge. And even now, they had only been on the phone for a few minutes, but he felt a huge weight off his shoulders. He felt like he could lower his defenses and just be honest about his feelings. Which reminded him of one thing.

"Do you want to know who I am?"

She didn't respond right away, as he kind of expected. He knew it was a loaded question. He'd asked her earlier, and she hadn't answered him. Of course, at the time, emotions were high and there were alot of questions being thrown around. But this, here and now, he could ask again.

He heard her draw in a deep, contemplative breath, and then release it. "Honestly...Um." She paused and then went on. "I've been... thinking about this for a while now. 'This' being revealing my own identity and, uh. I think I've been so wrapped up thinking about my own, I haven't even considered your's." She then scoffed and added. "Wow, that sounded selfish..."

He laughed. "No, no, it's okay!"

Even though it wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear, he was so overjoyed that she was being honest and open with him. And now that he thought about it, he threw around the idea of revealing his own identity to her alot. But now knowing who she was, the idea was alot more intimidating than he imagined it.

Mainly because he hadn't previous considered that they might actually be close friends from school.

He'd thought that perhaps they might know each other, but Adrien knew alot of people. Marinette was one of his best friends, she knew him pretty damn well. If she found out that the guy who flirted with her constant and acted like he didn't know the meaning of the words 'shame' or 'insecurity', was the same sad, lonely, innocent rich kid who was the picture perfect definition of a sheltered child...

She probably wouldn't tease him, because she was a totally sweetheart. But it would be really hard to save face as Chat Noir once she knew it was all an act.

However, all that in mind, if she said she did want to know his identity, he would tell her without hesitation.

"...I don't think I'm ready yet."

Welp.

He sighed and then hummed warmly. "That's okay."

He didn't expect to be so relived by her answer.

There was another beat of silence before she added, "Do you want to tell me?"

He stuttered and then quickly said, "Only if you want to know."

He should've expected as much, but she made a small sound of disbelief. "You don't sound very convinced..."

Now it was his turn to be silent. She'd revealed her identity to him, and as Plagg had said, that wasn't something to take lightly. She had trusted him with her whole self. He'd wanted to know who she was under that mask literally since their first mission. And he realized, she probably wouldn't have revealed herself to him if he hadn't gone to her and thrown such a fit like he did. He couldn't change that now, but whether he meant to or not, he had probably unintentionally pressured her into it. The thought made his stomach drop.

Perhaps he was being selfish. After everything that had happened that day, after he had been so desperate to know who she was under that mask, when it come down to it, he couldn't bring himself to drop his own mask. Because all his confidence was in that mask.

At least it kind of worked out that way. She wasn't ready to know, and he wasn't ready to tell her.

He realized he hadn't answered her yet. She had been so open and honest with him, he could at least do the same.

"Well..." he began. He stood from his desk chair and laid down in his bed. He rolled onto his side, holding the phone between his face and his pillow. He sighed. "Since we're being honest here... which I love, by the way, um. The fact is, Chat Noir... isn't really me."

He heard the most adorable soft giggle come through the phone, and responded with a laugh of his own. "No, what I mean is... I... oh man, how do I say this? Um... Look, in normal life, I'm like... not that guy. I'm not that confident. Being Chat Noir is my outlet, my escape from normal life. Being Chat Noir makes me confident. Because nobody knows it's really me, I can get away with acting... well, you know how I act, you're the one who has to deal with me." He laughed softly.

"I can understand that." She said. "So you're not ready either, is what you're getting at."

He released a breath and smiled, nuzzling his face into his pillow. "Right. I-I thought I was, but... I don't know, it's one thing to think about it, and it's a whole other thing to actually-"

"Oh, believe me, I know."

Of course she did, she was the one who had actually gone through with it. Duh stupid, he mentally scolded himself.

"It's okay, Kitty. Maybe when you're ready to tell me, I'll be ready to hear it. And I won't ask how you got my phone number."

"O-oh, heh," He said. "Yeah... hey, Ladyb-... er, Marinette?"

"Hmm?"

"I..." he hesitated, shyness creeping in on him. "I have... one more question."

"What's that?"

He loved this, being on the phone with her while laying in bed. He'd often imagined lying beside her, and when he closed his eyes and listened to her sleepy voice, he could so perfectly pretend that she was actually there with him. He hugged a pillow to his chest to assist the pretend scene. It was so amazing, that he was hesitate to ask his question, for fear of what the answer would be.

But it was now or never, and he had to know.

"Earlier. Did you mean it, when you said... when you said you had f-feelings for me? Or were you just telling me what you thought I wanted to hear? ...B-because I didn't know it was you?"

There was another pause. A long pause. Regret started to claw at him. He shouldn't have asked, he should've just let it be. Even if she had meant it, she obviously had let it slip because of the situation. If left to her own devices, she probably wouldn't have told him like that. She probably felt pressured into it, and she was probably feeling pressured again right now. He heard her release a deep breath, and he stammered.

"I-it's okay, you don't have to answer that."

She made a sound, like a grunt, which told him to give her a moment. He heard her breathing become a bit uneven and she seemed to be searching for words. She made another sound that sounded like she was going to say something, but only silence followed it. She sighed again, sounding frustrated.

"Really, Milady, it's okay-"

"I did mean it..."

He swore he felt his heart stop. In an instant, he felt like a warm liquid was filling up his body, starting in his chest and spreading out, flowing through his veins and spilling over to wash over his skin. To say he had butterflies in his stomach would've been a gross understatement, as he had to physically cover his mouth with his hand to keep quiet. He swore his face might actually split in two from the force of his smile.

She continued, oblivious to his reaction. "But... honestly, I..." she sounded like she was struggling with her words. "Since we are being honest... I-I don't know if was ready for you to know that yet..."

His smile still split his face and the warm feeling inside him remained. He felt only slightly disheartened by her words, but he understood, and he couldn't help but let his Chat Noir bravado shine through. "It's okay, Milady. For you, I will pretend to remain oblivious. As long as you want me to."

If he had been in front of her in that moment, it would've been very difficult to not try and kiss her. Despite the fact that he just promised to pretend he didn't know she had feelings for him.

She had feelings for him.

He once again had to cover his mouth to keep quiet. She had feelings for him.

That was dangerous knowledge to have and he knew it, but he'd reflect more on that later when he was alone and she wasn't on the phone with him.

He heard her hum in contentment.

Another comfortable silence fell between them. He had more questions for her, and if he wasn't nervous about pushing his limits, he'd be happy to stay up late into the night talking with her. But he knew she was tired and he didn't want to risk getting on her nerves because he was keeping her from sleep.

"W-well, Milady, I don't want to keep you from your beauty sleep... not that you need it! Because you're gorgeous. B-but... Um, you're probably tired, and-"

"Chat..."

"Ah... yes?"

"Goodnight."

The warm, affection, sleepy sound of her voice made him melt and the last thing he wanted to do was hang up the phone. He unintentionally let a defiant groan escape from his throat. He immediately cringed at himself and felt the heat rise in his cheeks when he heard her chuckle softly in response.

"Oh, really?" She said, voice playful but still soft. "Is there something else you wanted to say?"

"Oh, there are lots of things I want to say..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah..."

She seemed to be opening the door for him to continue their conversation in whatever direction he wanted, and he wondered where she would allow it to go. The first thing that popped into his mind was something he couldn't work up the nerve to say. It involved him voicing his desire to be laying next to her.

"I just... I like your voice."

She hummed. "Is that new or...?"

"Well, no, but I've never heard it like this before."

"Like what?"

His smile grew wider and he pulled the pillow tighter against him. "You sound so sleepy, I don't think I've ever heard you speak this gently before." His very being was buzzing and warm and he realized that he had probably never been happier than he was in that moment.

He heard her release a shy chuckle in response. "Well... I guess this is just my... night time voice."

"I like it."

His voice had gotten lower in pitch and he only realized after the fact how he sounded. Her breath hitched and he knew he should quit while he was ahead, because if he heard her make another sound like that, it would be a losing battle to try and keep this an innocent conversation.

"I like your voice too... You're cute."

Oh no, it was happening. He couldn't stop himself from responding with, "Thank you. Though, I feel like there are better adjectives to describe me."

"Oh? Such as?"

"Handsome? Charming?" His voice dropped again. "Sexy..."

She hummed again and said slowly, "You're cute."

Her words said, you're cute. But her tone said, bitch you thought.

He knew he should've quit while he was ahead.

He laughed because, what else could he do? She laughed with him before sighing comfortably. "You're not wrong though..."

He had to actually pause and think about what she had said. He then had to strain to keep his voice low and not squeak. "So you think I'm sexy?"

"Eh..." She responded nonchalantly. "You're alright I guess." He was trying to think of something to say back when she continued. "I have to say though, one of my favorites is probably that helpless look you had on earlier today, after the akuma victim threw that dynamite at us."

The memory rushed back to him and he knew he was in trouble.

"You really did look amazing like that..."

Now it was his turn to hitch his breath.

"Who knew it was so easy to make you moan..."

"Milady." He said at last. "I am doing my very best to be good and you are not making that easy for me."

The sound she made could not really be called a chuckle or a giggle, nor would he call it a gasp. It was a breathy sound that seemed like it was trying to be a laugh of sorts, but her own breathlessness betrayed her. "Is that so..." Her voice, however, was even and calm. "And what if you weren't being good?"

He knew she probably didn't think he had to nerve to actually answer that truthfully.

Hm. She thought.

"Well, I was just thinking about how much I'd love to be laying next to you right now." He said smoothly. "And how much I would love to hear that sweet little night time voice of your's in person." He heard her breath falter again and continued. "Which I wasn't going to say... But My Lady did ask."

He couldn't help the feeling of pride swell in his chest at the sound of her trembling breath, but again, he knew he should probably quit while he was ahead. He didn't know where his sudden burst of Chat Noir confidence had come from, but he knew from experience that it could be gone as quickly as it came if he wasn't careful. When she failed to respond, he chuckled and added, "Two can play that game, Bugaboo. And by the way, you're cute too."

"Thank you."

"You give the best cheek kisses."

"Aww..."

"And you looked amazing on top of me-"

"Okay!" She said, nervous energy creeping into the word. "I think it's a certain kitty's bedtime."

He laughed, basking in his victory since she had broken first. He realized then that he probably wasn't the only one who drew confidence from his mask. He thought back to how head strong and unshakable Ladybug was, and then to how clumsy and easily flustered Marinette could be, and he was once again overwhelmed by how amazing it was that the two were the same person. He then pondered on whether or not he was happy their conversation took the turn that it did. He loved a bit of teasing, but he enjoyed their sweet, genuine exchange much more. He made an attempt to save face.

"Didn't mean to fluster you, Milady. And I'm sorry if I'm keeping you up." He sighed. "If I may be serious, I know I joke and flirt and tease, but please tell me honestly. Have I ever... crossed a line before? Have I ever made you feel uncomfortable?"

"No." She responded at once. "You've annoyed me before, but that's it." He could perfectly picture the warm smile on her face and she spoke. "You've never made me feel uncomfortable." She breathed out a laugh and added, "If anything, I feel safest when I'm with you."

He couldn't quite put a name to the emotion he felt at hearing that, but it made him feel complete. He felt needed and protective. He sat up briefly to shrug off his button up and then wiggle out of his jeans. Now in only his t-shirt and boxers, he crawled under his comforter and wished more in that moment that he could be next to her. He wanted to hold her so badly. She said she felt safest with him. He was a super hero, it made sense for him to make people feel safe. But for her to be the one to say it? He didn't know something like that could make him feel so completely loved.

That's it, that's what it was. He felt loved. He felt loved and needed and happy.

"Marinette..."

"Yes?"

"...You know saying something like that is just going to go straight to my head."

"Ha. Let it."

Oh, he was going to wife this girl so hard.

"Why do you ask, though?"

Truthfully, he didn't know why he had asked that particular question. He'd always wondered, but at that moment, he was just trying to steer their conversation away from dangerous waters. "W-well," He began. "Uh... I don't know if you want to get into it now or talk about it later, I know you were trying to go to sleep and I meant for this to be a short conversation, but-"

"Chaton, it's fine, I don't have to get up in the morning."

Excitement boiled in his chest. "You don't? Then why in bed so early?"

"I was emotionally exhausted over everything that's happened today."

"O-oh." He said, deflated. "I can let you go if-"

"No, really, it's okay." She assured him. "You sound like something's bothering you."

He huffed. "It's not bothering me, per say, but... Well, it is actually, but... um..." Should he even bring it up? She did ask, but... maybe he should just let it be.

"I mean, if you don't want to talk about it..."

"I! Ah, I don't want there to be anymore walls between us!" He blurted out. "I've waited so long for us to finally be at the point where we can share things and talk openly like this and... I-I don't want to spoil this. If I ever did put you in an uncomfortable position, I want you to be able to tell me!"

"You haven't, I told you." She said softly, comfortingly. "Why do you-?"

"Earlier." He started. "I feel like I pressured you into revealing your identity."

She fell silent and he was certain that he was right. That day had been crazy, at times uncomfortable, and definitely confusing. He had pressured her unknowingly, he knew that. But the guilt was there, all the same. He couldn't go back and change it, and if he could, he didn't know that he'd want to. He just didn't want her to think of him as one to pressure her into anything. That was a horrible way to start a relationship.

And this was the start of a relationship, he decided. Maybe not the actual start, but the beginning of events that would lead to the start, he was certain.

She still hadn't responded, so he drew in an audible breath and exhaled. "I was thinking about it earlier, after I left your place. And uh, it dawned on me that... you probably wouldn't have revealed your identity to me if I hadn't put you in that position."

She was quiet for another beat, and then made a small hum in response. "Well. I'll be honest, I probably wouldn't have, if not for..." She trailed off, letting it hang in the air what they both knew she was referring to. She continued. "But... can't do anything about that now. And besides, it's not like you knew you were putting me in that position."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, really. If anything, I'm happy about it, because this saves me the trouble of thinking up a good way to do the reveal myself." She released an airy laugh that made him smile.

He curled himself around his pillow again. "If you don't mind my asking, how were you planning on doing it?"

"I had no clue. I wanted it to be as nondramatic as possible, but I guess that obviously didn't work out." She giggled and he forced himself to join in, despite the fact that embarrassment was rising in his face again. "I had figured, I'd give myself until the Christmas dance to think of something, and if I couldn't, then I'd just do it there."

The Christmas dance. Marinette was his date to the dance. He'd reflect more on that when she wasn't on the phone.

"Speaking of which, I'm actually pretty excited about that. Are you?"

He heard her smile through her words. "Yeah, I am. I'm, uh... I'm making my own dress."

"I can't wait to see it." He remembered seeing the sketches of the dress in her book and wondering whether they were meant for Ladybug or Marinette. Then he remembered the after party they had planned just earlier that day. The whole thing had been Marinette's idea, obviously she'd be there, but she still didn't know who he was. And therefore, didn't know it was actually his home that would be playing host.

"Marinette?"

"Hmm?"

"Um. Do you think...you'll be ready to know who I am by then?"

"By then?"

"The Christmas dance."

Another beat of silence pasted as she contemplated, and for a moment, he was worried that she would say no.

"Maybe." She whispered. "I guess we'll have to see."

A strange cocktail of excitement, anticipation and nervousness bubbled up in his stomach. The Christmas dance was still a good two months away, plenty of time for him to gather his wits and buck up the nerve to reveal his identity. Why was he so nervous anyway? Other than the obvious reasons of saving face as Chat Noir, what other reason did he have? She'd already told him she had feelings for him-

She told Chat Noir she had feelings for him.

The sudden sinking of his heart made him remember that she was still on the line.

"Y-yeah." He said. "We'll see." He realized how down he sounded, despite his effort to hide it. He thought, perhaps it was time to say goodnight. "Well, Milady, I don't want to keep you up anymore that I already have. And, um, thank you... for talking to me."

She giggled. "You're welcome."

He felt like this was the part where the two lovers say 'I love you'. He so desperately wanted to say it. He'd already said it once, indirectly. She knew he did. Would it really be so bad to say it?

"Marinette...?"

"Yes?"

"I..."

He froze. She encouraged him.

"Yes?"

"I-I..."

He couldn't do it.

He sighed, dejected. "I... hope you sleep well."

It was faint, but he swore he thought he could hear disappointment in her voice when she responded with, "Oh... thank you. I hope you do too."

"When can I see you again?" He'd see her in class on Monday, but she didn't know that.

She chuckled. "You've never needed an invitation to show up at my place unannounced before."

A smug look made it's way onto his face, despite the fact that she couldn't see it, and he burrowed deeper under his blanket. "Well, you know what they say about feeding a stray cat..."

"...And enter without knocking sometimes."

"Hey, now." He interrupted. "I've only done that, like... twice."

It had been more than twice, and he damn well knew it. A few times, he'd seen through her window that she had headphones on, so he'd let himself in. Or, it was about to start raining and he dart down through the latch before the first drops started to fall. And the most common reason, he saw that she wasn't in her room and he'd make himself at home while he waited for her. He could still perfectly remember the shocked and then sour expression on her face when she'd finally enter the room, only to find a lounging Chat Noir either in her chair or on her lounger.

He'd always thought her pouty, angry face was incredibly cute, but his heart remained faithful to Ladybug. He could add that to the list of reasons to be happy with the knowledge that they were the same person.

She didn't bother to correct him, and simply made a noncommittal hum. "Patrol Sunday?"

He smiled. "Usual spot, usual time?"

"Mhm."

"It's a date."

"You wish."

He was about to make a comment when he heard a beep that sounded like it came from her end of the phone call, followed by something that sounded like rustling of fabric. "What was that?" He asked. His own phone buzzed as well, but he ignored it.

"Oh, my friend texted me." She replied. "Why the hell is she texting me so late?" The last part was quieter, talking more to herself than to him. She then sighed. "Okay, Kitty, it's bedtime for real this time."

He chuckled and put on his suavest, most over exaggerated Chat Noir voice. "Goodnight, my beautiful Love-bug, I hope you have the sweetest of dreams and I anxiously await our Sunday patrol!"

"Goodnight, Chaton. Sleep well."

She hung up.

He stayed like that, phone to his ear and body wrapped around his pillow, for a moment more before he turned off the phone and lay it down next to him. He'd been pretending she was there with him, he'd felt like she was. With her voice now gone, he felt as though he'd been left alone in the darkness. It was suddenly colder. His heart sank ever so slightly.

To distract himself from the feeling, he got up, replaced the home phone on it's receiver, and grabbed his cell phone. He'd completely forgot about the text he received while on the phone with Marinette, because nothing was that important that it had to interrupt them. He unlocked the device and blinked from the sudden bright light in his eyes. When the screen came into focus, the cold feeling was gone, replaced with excitement.

It was a group message from Alya, that included himself, Nino, and Marinette. It read:

-Peeps, movie tomorrow?

As he looked at the screen, another message popped up from Marinette.

-That one scary movie just came out, right? That the one you want to see?

Alya responded.

-Girl, you know it.

Nino chimed in.

-Hell yeah, let's do it!

A moment passed and Marinette didn't say anything. He watched the screen anxiously. If she went, then so would he. Otherwise, he'd just be third wheeling it with Nino and Alya. Maybe he could invite her to do something, just the two of them.

Marinette responded at last.

-Sounds like fun, I'm game.

He typed up his first and only message.

-I'm in.

After agreeing they would sort out details tomorrow as far as time and where they'd all meet, no more messages were sent that night. As he crawled back into bed, Adrien was buzzing with the knowledge that he wouldn't have to wait to see his Lady again, but a thought struck him. Struck him rather violently, he should say.

She still didn't know he was Chat Noir, and once he started to think about it, he wondered: Did he want her to fall for him as Adrien or Chat Noir? If he started to pursue her as Adrien, she'd be under the impression that she had two different guys after her affections. Which means that in her mind, she'd have to choose one.

That is, assuming she chose either side of himself at all, which there was no guarantee of. For the sake of argument, though.

Did he want to win her heart as Chat or Adrien? He'd always felt more like himself as Chat Noir, but Adrien was who he actually was. She knew Adrien from school. She knew Chat Noir as her partner, and now as the only person who knew her identity.

She'd told Chat Noir that she had feelings for him. She was going to be his date to the Christmas Ball. But Marinette has always, until recently anyway, resisted getting closer to Adrien. She was always very kind to him, but he felt that was more of her just being a good person, rather than actually wanting to get to know him. What if she didn't like him?

"That went pretty well, I think."

Adrien nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice of his kwami, who he thought had fallen asleep.

"How do you feel about it?"

Adrien tried to locate Plagg in the darkness, but he couldn't, so he stared at the ceiling instead. "I think it went really well." He said. "Plagg, can I ask you something?"

"You're going to anyway, no matter what I say."

"You're right. Do you think I should pursue her as Adrien or Chat Noir?"

"Chat Noir. Marinette doesn't look twice at Adrien. She can barely stand to talk to you for more than five minutes at a time." was Plagg's uninterested response. "Probably because she can't stand to actually see your dumb face."

"My face is not dumb."

"Whatever. Go to sleep."

...

More Chapters Coming Soon!