Chat Noir left the apartment as Marinette placed the last of the macarons into the oven. They'd been to the café together as civilians with their friends, so when Marinette said she trusted him to choose what she should get, he was confident he would choose well for her. He was prepared to not disappoint her on their furst date.

He left through her bedroom, taking a brief respite to transform back into a civilian just long enough fur him to grab a few euro notes out of his wallet. He knew that Chat Noir shouldn't go around paying for things with Adrien Agreste's bank cards, but he was almost certain that the notes wouldn't be able to lead anyone to his identity.

He planned to go to the café, then immediately back to the bakery, but while he was running across the rooftops, he was distracted by an aroma. It was sweet, but a different sweet than he had become used to during the time he had been spending with Marinette while she baked for the past few hours.

He landed on the sidewalk next to a hole-in-the-wall flower shop he had never noticed before. He walked inside and was blown away by the array of colors and scents that greeted him, but he was trying to follow the specific smell that had led him there in the first place. He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to pick it out of everything that overwhelmed his senses.

He walked over to the wall on the right hand side of the store and didn't even hear the kind old gentleman behind the counter offuring assistance. He picked up a bloom and held it toward his nose. This was it, this was the one that had drawn him into the shop. He turned around with the flower in his hand and finally noticed the man behind the counter.

"Just this one, please," he requested from the man, holding the flower out to him. The light glinted off his nametag and Chat saw the name 'Harold.' Harold put the stem of the flower into a small container that Chat recognized as the same type that Tom and Sabine used in the bakery when they needed to use real flowers on a cake.

"It matches her eyes perfectly, non?" Harold asked. Chat looked back at the bloom again and a smile took over his features. "I've always thought Ladybug's eyes were the shade of a bluebell in full bloom." Chat tried to not let the wince show on his face, of course Harold would think he was getting the flower for Ladybug.

Chat didn't disagree, but he couldn't help but think of how much better this bloom would match Marinette's eyes than Ladybug's. He didn't know what flower would be a better match for Ladybug, but this one was Marinette and there was no doubt in his mind about that. "It'll be purrfect fur my princess," Chat Noir assured, careful not to use a name.

He swallowed his saliva and felt his heart pound in his chest at the comparison Harold had made between his partner and the girl who had just agreed to give him a chance. He felt like he was already shooting far out of his league and he didn't want to mess things up by accidentally comparing the two girls who had inadfurtently captured his heart.

"How much do I owe you for the flower?" Chat asked as a soft blush spread across his cheeks. Harold tried to wave off Chat's offer to pay, which was expected, but not appreciated. Chat believed in making sure that people were fairly compensated, so he glanced over to the place from which he'd selected the bloom to check for a listed price.

He left a €5 note in the tip jar just before he'd accepted the flower furom the man. "Merci, monsieur," he thanked with a polite nod to the attendant. He turned to leave but stopped when he reached the door. "What do bluebells mean?" Chat looked between the flower and the man, heart skipping beats from within its place in his chest.

"Loyalty, humility, and gratitude," Harold offered in response. Chat's smile turned into a smirk as he committed that to memory. "Thank you for coming in today, Chat Noir. I hope she enjoyed the flower." Chat nodded in agreement before he left the store. He was planning to get to the café using his baton, but he didn't want to risk ruining the flower, so he just walked the rest of the way.

When he arrived at Café Cloche, he walked in, flower still in hand and was happy to find there was no line. It was still a little too early for most people to be getting lunch and he was thankful for that, hoping to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He looked at the menu and smiled when he saw that Marinette was right, there was a Chat Noir special listed to the side.

He put the small vial into the spot between his belt and his torso to keep it secure while he needed to interact with the cashier. "H-hello," she greeted, a nervous tone in her voice. She seemed to be around his age, maybe a year or two older. "What can I get for you?" He saw her nametag said Marie and he couldn't help the smile on his face as he thought about his princess.

"One of the furmidable Chat Noir sandwiches," he requested with a bright smile on his face, "and a croque madame." He looked at the sign again and both sandwiches came with crisps and a salad, so he was happy with the sides. Marie selected the options on her screen to place the order for him.

"Anything else for you?" He looked at the pastry display on habit before shaking his head. He knew that Marinette had told him he could have some of the macarons and regardless, her parents' pastries were better than the ones that they sold at the café. If he weren't going back there, he would have considered it, but there wasn't a point.

"That's going to be it fur me," he confurmed with a bright smile on his face. "Just the total." Marie told him a price and it wsa clear to him that she undercharged him. It wasn't new to him, people tried to give him and Ladybug free or discounted things often because of everything they did for the city.

He checked the menu and did a quick calculation to furgure out the correct total. He handed her the amount that she asked for, then placed the rest into the tip jar to hopefully make up the diffurence. "Thank you," he said politely before he stepped over to the side to wait for the order to be finished.

He pulled out his baton and started scrolling through social media, seeing that Alya had made a new post on the Ladyblog, talking about Monarch and the fact that she had been in contact with Ladybug, who was working hard behind the scenes to discofur the identity of the supervillain.

He was always happy that Ladybug was willing to speak with Alya, but he found himself wondering why she didn't work with him to put together information about the identity. He made a mental note to make a list of his own about possible suspects for the villain's secret identity. Before he could pull up a spot to take notes, though, he was called to collect his order.

"Thank you," he said again, accepting the bag from Marie. "Have a purrfect rest of your day." He moved the flower from his belt, into the side of the bag where he would be protected against the wind as he traveled back to the apartment. He landed on her balcony and went in through her trapdoor.

When he landed on her floor, he saw that she was sitting at her desk, taking a few more notes on a design. She closed her sketchbook when he landed and turned around to look at him. "A gift fur my princess," he said with an admiring smile on his face as he took the flowers from the bag and held them out to her.

"It's lovely. Thank you, minou," she responded. She stood and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. The little container still had water in it and she didn't feel like going downstairs when she knew he said he was going to be busy later, so she put the whole container into an unused pencil cup that was sitting on her desk.

"Is that new?" he asked, looking at the 'Tu Peux Le Faire' cup that she had placed the flower into. She nodded, smiling softly to herself as she looked at the container that Alya had given her after Monarch first came into being. 'You can do it.' It was hand painted in Chat's colors, which Marinette thought was a nice touch.

"Yeah," she responded, swallowing her saliva, "Alya gave it to me because she knows I've been nervous about the internship this summer. 'Tu peux le faire.' I swear, those words have helped me through more stressful situations than anything else. It's purractically my motto nowadays, fur real." She gently hugged herself as she spoke without thinking through her words.

"It's nice," he said with a soft smile. "Tu peux le fur," he added after a moment and she shook her head, contrasting the grin that was spread across her face.

"Tu mew le faire," she offered instead, which caused his soft smile to grow into a grin. He couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled out of him.

"Tu mew le fur," he responded and she burst into peals of laughter. He was half convinced she was going to laugh herself into falling over, so he reached out to catch her just in case. She leaned into him and he felt his heart pound in his chest because of the girl he was holding in his arms.