Kitty Noire called for her detransformation as her feet touched the ground behind the same wide tree she had transformed behind. Marinette peered around herself, checking for any witnesses. The campus in this area was mostly deserted, as classes were still in session.
As soon as she confirmed that no one was around, Marinette allowed herself to squeal loudly. "Oh! Plagg! We were amazing!" She jumped up and down and looked to her kwami with a contagious grin.
Plagg hovered in the space to her left and gave her a proud smile. "It was all you, Marinette. I just gave you the powers."
She put her hands out and cupped Plagg, pulling him against her cheek. "I know you're being modest. Thank you for believing in me. I was at a pretty low point back there, when I took the ring off." Marinette dropped her arms and Plagg settled on her shoulder. "But both your and Fu's faith was so strong, it's like you didn't let me quit, even though I wanted to."
Plagg leaned into Marinette's neck without saying anything. She allowed herself to relax with him for a moment. She had done it. Her first success. And hopefully that meant many more to come.
Of course, they couldn't stay like that forever. Marinette checked her phone for the time — there were still twenty-six minutes left of History of Modern Fashion, and Marinette had every intention to get a little more learning in before heading to her internship.
As she ran back up the stairs to get to her lecture hall, her brain ran circles around her. How soon would it be until the news aired? Until everyone knew about Coccinello and herself? Until they all felt safe with their heroes to protect them?
At the Parisian Design House, Mireille and Théo, the other college-age intern, let Marinette know the answers to her questions. She hardly had time to sign in before Mireille jumped on her.
"Marinette! You have to see this!" Mireille shoved her phone into Marinette's face. Marinette had to blink a few times and push the phone away a little in order to see what was going on. But once she did, she couldn't keep her heart from beating loudly in excitement. It was a recording from that afternoon; Coccinello spinning his yo-yo like a helicopter, keeping himself and Kitty Noire four stories in the air. Kitty Noire brandishing the strange-looking umbrella at the flaming dragon.
"Wow," she breathed out in genuine amazement. They truly were a great team. So efficient.
"I know!" Mireille crooned. "Apparently the girl is named Kitty Noire. Isn't that so chic? I wonder if she designed her own costume. She has some serious taste! And well, let's not even talk about the guy," Mireille fanned herself for dramatic effect. "What a hunk, huh?" She looked to Marinette for confirmation. Marinette froze up.
Coccinello, a hunk? Maybe. She hadn't ever really considered it before. But Mireille had a point. He was tall, and broad… Marinette colored a little. "Um, I guess, I mean, I don't really know, I—"
Théo cut in. "Oh, Mireille, leave her alone. Marinette's been in the building for a total of two minutes and you've already broken her."
Marinette just laughed. "It sure is exciting, though. Superheroes!" She hoped that would make her seem more like her normal self.
Mireille bubbled about it again and she and Théo devolved into a playful argument over which hero was better. Marinette suppressed a giggle and headed to Ronaldo's office.
"Ah! Marinette! I need you to take a look at this hat. Tell me what it's missing." Ronaldo pushed away from his giant double-monitor computer space. On a screen was a 3D rendition of a bowler hat. Marinette spun the design about, examining it from all angles.
It was a fine hat, but a boring one. Carnation pink, peach taffeta, a bunch of pink feathers in the back. "You're making a flamingo hat?" Marinette asked for clarification.
"Of course! What other birds are so pink?" he cried out in frustration.
Marinette looked back to the hat. "I think it's fine. Flamingoes are flamboyant. Maybe you need the hat to do more."
Ronaldo put his head in his hands, clearly despairing. Marinette backtracked. "What is it that you want the hat to do, then?"
Ronaldo wheeled his chair a little closer and pulled up a page on the other screen. It was an advertisement for a design competition that PDH was hosting. Anyone could submit to it — designers, interns, aspiring talents. Marinette's heart raced. She hadn't designed anything in so long. Should she enter?
The theme was bowler hats, inspired by birds.
"You're going to enter, right, chèrie?" Ronaldo asked her as she read the ad. Marinette wiggled her head, unsure.
"If I did, I couldn't help you with your hat."
Ronaldo pushed her away from the screen. "Then out with you! Go organize the fabric room! I'm making you enter the competition!" He stood up straighter in his chair to block her from looking at his flamingo hat any longer. Marinette laughed.
"Alright, thank you, Ronaldo. But what I said still stands. If you want to stick with the flamingo, it needs to be more flamboyant." And Marinette left the room so that Ronaldo could relax.
As she organized the fabrics, she daydreamed of what bird she should pick to design a hat for. "Plagg," she asked, shelving the box of #2116 electric blue in its proper place, "what do you think?"
Plagg poked his head out of her purse. "I'm not the creative one in this duo, Marinette. You tell me."
She tapped a knuckle against her chin. "The problem is that bird hats are so cliche. If I made one, it would have to be of a bird that no one would ever make a hat for."
She unlocked the door to the apartment and hardly had time to put her key away before Alya came flying out of their room. "Marinette, please tell me you've seen the news!"
She had almost forgotten in her preoccupation with the bowler hat. "I have!" she told her roommate. "At the PDH, an intern showed me. They sure are something else," she said, hoping that was the right thing to say. What would she say about superheroes in Paris if she wasn't one of them?
Alya couldn't contain herself. She jumped between one foot and the other, crying, "Aren't they?! Oh, I'm just about obsessed with their costumes! And look!" She pulled up the interview video, paused on the frame where Cocci had put his arm on Kitty Noire's shoulder. "They're sooo a thing! And probably the cutest couple in the world! I mean, me and Nino notwithstanding," she winked.
But Marinette squirmed. Did people really think she and Coccinello were a couple? "Oh, I don't know, Alya, how can you be so sure they're together?"
Alya gave her roommate a look. "Girl, open your eyes! It's clear from the fight that they're really close and trust one another. Look at that grip he has on her waist! Swoon!" She scrubbed through the video to show Marinette the exact clips she was referencing, but Marinette didn't need to see them. She could remember the way Coccinello had held her earlier that day. But he wasn't doing it to be romantic; he just needed to get them both up in the air. Marinette was positive there was nothing between them; she would have been able to tell if there had been.
"Alya, they're a superhero team. It's all part of the job. They have to do stuff like that," she answered confidently, moving into the bedroom.
Alya followed. "Maybe you're a naysayer, Marinette, but my blog's five hundred followers and I clearly see something you do not."
Marinette spluttered, hanging her coat up in the closet. "Did you say blog?"
"Oh yeah! How could I have forgotten! I started a blog right after the video aired. I was just so excited I didn't know what else to do! But it really blew up!" Alya grinned broadly and pulled up the webpage. Sweat broke out on Marinette's brow. It was called the Kittynello Blog. As in, Kitty Noire and Coccinello. Together. More than friends. "You… you dedicated a whole blog to a romance that isn't even real?" She had to work to keep her voice from turning shrill.
"Relax," Alya waved a hand at her. "It's for more than that; it's dedicated to updates regarding the new heroes. Basically anything concerning them you can expect to show up on my blog." She straightened up proudly. "I plan to get on the scene to film them even before the news stations get there!"
Marinette relaxed a little. Was she proud of Alya? Absolutely. Was she worried about a lack of privacy in her alternate identity's life? Absolutely.
She decided to put her worries aside for now, instead trying to focus on being a supportive friend. She smiled and opened her arms for a hug. "That's amazing, Alya! How many followers did you say you had already?"
"Five hundred and counting!" Alya hugged Marinette tightly in return. "I'm so happy, because this will be the real deal for me! I can be a journalist on a topic that fascinates me without having to deal with executive nonsense! I can get my name out there as the Kittynello blogger!"
Marinette shook her head with a chuckle. "Are you sure the ship name isn't Coccinoire?"
Alya gave her a serious look. "Kitty's way more fabulous. She has to go first."
Marinette laughed aloud, a real laugh this time. "Hm, there's no denying that!"
The phone call Marinette had been waiting for arrived later that afternoon.
"Wow! You were right, Marinette! Those heroes are amazing!" her mother enthused on the other end.
Marinette could only chuckle, too relieved to speak.
"We're glad you're safe. We were so worried about our little girl," her father added, his voice softening.
Marinette sighed. "I'm glad you think so. Now you know, everything is fine, but I'll still be careful. I have monster alerts set up on my phone," she elaborated, hoping that would make them even less worried.
Her mother grew excited. "Oh, I'll add them too! That way I can watch the superhero fights in action! I'm going to become Kitty Noire's number one fan!"
Something like concern twisted in Marinette's stomach. Her mother, watching her closely? What if she accidentally said something, or used some mannerism, that could identify her to her parents? "Um, I'm not sure it's the best idea. You don't want to stress yourselves out, knowing every time there's a monster."
"It's not stressful, we enjoy being caught up on what's happening where you are," she replied, no doubt meaning it to be endearing.
But Marinette grew more and more anxious. "Well, it's not necessary. Please tell me you won't."
Neither of her parents spoke for a moment. Then her father asked, "Marinette, is everything okay?"
"Um, yeah. I just…" she looked at the textbook on her desk. "I just remembered I haven't done any reading for History of Modern Fashion, and the exam is… super soon. I guess all the excitement about the heroes put it out of my head! Um, I should really get going, but it was great talking to you guys!" She tried to laugh at the end, to reassure them that nothing was amiss, but it came out tighter than she'd intended.
"Oh… kay. Well, keep in touch. We love you!"
"Love you too, bye!" Marinette almost threw her phone across her desk, desperately needing space from it.
"What was that about?" Plagg asked, and rightfully so. Marinette doubted he'd ever seen her act so strangely.
"I feel like they're onto me, Plagg. Or if they aren't yet, they will be. What if they watch Kitty Noire in battle and notice that, oh I don't know… she walks just like I do? Don't parents know all those super detailed things about you?"
Plagg cocked his head. "I don't know. Kwamis don't have parents. But nothing like that has happened before. I'm sure you're fine," he smiled.
But Marinette couldn't share that smile. Maybe no other miracle stone wielder had ever had parents as obsessed with them as Marinette's were.
In the next week, three more monsters appeared to plague Paris. Each time, Kitty Noire and Coccinello tried the same trick that had worked with the dragon; the unlucky charm. When the charm made contact with the monster, it discharged in a flash that allowed the heroes to vanquish it, rescuing the victim inside. The victim was always comatose and was immediately rushed to the hospital.
Kitty Noire grew more comfortable with Coccinello, and he with her. They began to make jokes during their fights, began to know what the others' strategy would be, began making plans to hang out together after the battles. In short, they became friends, and that brought so much mirth to Kitty Noire's busy, stressful life. She loved spending time with Coccinello because he always seemed calm, even during a fight. It allowed her to realize that stressful events happen, but it's our choice whether or not to let them control us.
Of course, as the superheroes saved Paris more and more, so the Parisians loved them more and more. Kitty Noire and Coccinello became Paris' most mysterious celebrities, and it was the mystery that made them all the more fascinating.
Seemingly overnight, calendars, posters, T-shirts, mugs, and a never-ending slew of other household items were available with the heroes plastered on the outside. Alya had bought the Coccinello calendar and hung it up in their room as soon as it was printed. Marinette couldn't help but notice that the company who made the calendar chose particularly… risqué shots of Coccinello.
When Marinette mentioned as much, Alya beamed. "I know right! He's sooo sexy!"
She just exhaled.
Of course, Alya was absolutely not helping. Her Kittynello Blog had exploded, trending as the first hit when the heroes names were searched on the internet. People from all over the world wrote messages to Alya everyday, thanking her for making such a comprehensive website. And also squealing over how cute they thought Kittynello was.
Soon enough, Parisians would mob to the location of a battle, just to see Kitty Noire and Coccinello live in action. They would wear their T-shirts, hold up their signs, and scream their lungs hoarse. Kitty Noire was great at filtering out sound, so it never bothered her. She was quite flattered by all of the adoring fans, even though she never would have admitted it as Marinette.
Coccinello announced to the crowd after every battle, "It is incredibly dangerous for you all to be here! Please, just watch the recordings from the safety of your homes!"
But Kitty Noire tossed her braid and told them, "Be there if you'd like to, I don't mind. Just stay out of the splash zone," and she winked to them, blew a kiss, and hopped away, leaving them screaming and crying in her wake.
She tried her best to act a little differently than her normal self, especially when she knew she was on camera. She didn't want to accidentally expose her identity somehow — to her parents, in particular. Her biggest fear was that someone might figure out her secret, and now, when her parents would call her, Marinette let it go to voicemail. She couldn't bring herself to answer. What if the truth of her identity lay on the other end?
Since, in general, most things were going well in Marinette's life — midterms were over for the time being, working at Sloppy Joe's had been much more fun since Lila came on, and she was kicking major monster butt as her alter ago — she finally decided that she was no longer "too busy" for romance.
"Why the sudden change, Marinette? It's been like, three weeks since the kickback. You were so determined to give up on Adrien then," Alya pointed out to her when Marinette confided in her roommate.
It made her nerves twist. What could she say? She certainly was just as busy now as she had been when she had said those things, perhaps more so, but becoming a successful superhero had lifted a weight off her chest that made her feel like she could do anything. But she couldn't tell Alya that. "The sudden change is the fact that I'm not as drained by Sloppy Joe's as I used to be, and more importantly, I can't stop thinking about Adrien. All I do in Chinese Mythology class is stare at the back of his head." She put her face in her hands in shame. It sounded so much worse when said aloud.
Alya clenched her fists and her eyes glinted. "If you say you're ready for love, I believe you. I've never been one to keep a girl from a man if that's what she wants!" Alya put her arm around Marinette, making Marinette look up at her friend with a small smile. Marinette wasn't sure she would describe her situation quite like that, but Alya wasn't wrong. She did want to be with Adrien. He was just so sweet, so considerate. He had killer looks but he wasn't full of himself. And he was really smart. He checked all the boxes, and without even trying, he had won Marinette's heart simply by leaning close and talking to her at a party.
She blushed just at the remembrance. Alya giggled and Marinette came back to the present. "What should I do? Should I ask him out?"
"Totally. Go for coffee. That's low-risk. And it also doesn't make your feelings obvious. He might think you mean to go as friends, and then when he's there, sitting across from you, learning all about you, he'll realize friends is definitely not what he wants to be." Alya's eyes got dreamy and Marinette suppressed a giggle. Was that how it happened with her and Nino?
Marinette imagined it. Sitting in a cozy booth across from Adrien at a café. Getting lost in his lovely green eyes. "Hmm," she hummed with pleasure. "Okay. Next time I see him, I'll ask him!" She said it with determination, but inside herself she worried about tripping over her words again. Would she freeze up? Would she blabber at him? It was hard to know.
The next day, in class, Marinette chose to take a seat in the first row, just two seats down from him. Not right next to him, but as close as she was willing to get. She hoped inside herself that he would understand her, that he would know from this action what her intentions were. That way he could be the one to say, "Marinette. Coffee?" and not the other way around. Because Marinette's nerves were a jumbled mess.
Adrien noticed her new proximity. How could he not? There were only three students who regularly sat in the very front row. "Hey, Marinette. How are things going?"
She took a breath. Small talk. She could do that. "They're going. It's been nice lately," she answered, sort of without thinking.
"Oh?" Adrien prompted, and Marinette stiffened. There was no way she could tell him why things had been nice lately, unless she planned on telling him she was Kitty Noire. But she also didn't want to make something up.
"Yeah," she replied, a little hurriedly, "it's been really exciting with the new heroes. I'm a big fan."
"Oh? Kitty Noire or Coccinello?" Adrien sat up straighter, leaned closer to Marinette.
Marinette reddened. It felt immodest to say Kitty, but at the same time, he might think she was one of those calendar-buying, rabid screaming fans if she said Coccinello. "Both!" she settled on. "They're a really inspiring team!"
Adrien smiled one of his smiles that Marinette loved. It was soft, made his eyes crinkle in the corners a little. A smile that relaxed her, that made her bones turn into mush. "I think so, too."
Professor Fu walked into the lecture hall and set up his things, cocking his head and smiling in surprise when he saw Marinette in the front row. She colored and gave him a small wave, hoping he wouldn't ask about her motives.
Instead he came into their conversation. "It seems like the new heroes are all I hear about, no matter where I go." He gave Marinette a knowing look and her heart started beating double time. If he kept that up, he was going to endanger her identity!
"They're a hot topic," she spluttered.
"Why wouldn't we be talking about them?" Adrien asked at the same time.
"Oh, no reason to get wound up," Fu said, going back to set up his notes. "I just thought it was interesting. I, too, like them. They're pretty miraculous."
Marinette thought she saw Fu wink. Did he think he was being funny? Her eyes darted to Adrien. Was he catching on?
No, he seemed perfectly at ease. He was merely looking at Fu with confusion. She allowed herself to exhale.
As soon as she had done so, it was time for class, and her heart sank. She hadn't had a chance to ask Adrien out.
Back at home, Marinette designed and redesigned her bowler hat, trying to find the perfect look. The bird she decided on was a swan; pristine white, with a small hint of black and orange, and a long white feather on top, reminiscent of the neck. But no matter what she did, it didn't want to come together right. She ripped pages out of her sketchbook, threw them on the floor. "Ugh! Now I know how Ronaldo was feeling!" she cried out.
Plagg emerged from the Cheese-Itz box. "Maybe you should take a break. You've been working on that hat for about two hours now." Marinette looked at the clock, horrified to find out that he was right. A giant pile of balled-up plans laid at the foot of her desk.
"Oh no! I need to do the reading for History of Modern Fashion! How did you let me get so carried away," she asked, bending to collect all of the papers.
"Me? I'm just the kwami," Plagg followed her as she ran about the room, tidying up.
After a few moments, all the papers were recycled, and Marinette's textbook was open on her desk, Plagg sitting on her lamp with a cracker. "Maybe something in there will give you inspiration for your swan hat."
"I hope so. But I'm not counting on it." She flipped the page, her eyes beginning to glaze over. How did textbook writers manage to make even the most interesting information so sleep-inducing?
Marinette read through half-closed eyes, the words passing right through her brain. Until she got to something that made her start, nearly flying out of her seat.
In a small section about the most influential designers in the past twenty years, right there, a name she hadn't expected to see: Gabriel Agreste.
Agreste. That was Adrien's last name. Could it be?
Marinette pulled out her laptop, plopped it right on top of her textbook. A quick search led to a wiki article.
"Gabriel Agreste, French designer. Famous for establishing his own design house and for popularizing the akuma." There was a photo of the man embedded in the article, along with a dress in the akuma style — a low back and pointy shoulders, like a butterfly's wings. Marinette had seen the style before. It was quite popular at the Parisian Design House.
The photo of Gabriel was more intriguing than the dress, though. The man looked intense — frown lines etched into his face, not a trace of warmth. It was such a drastic difference compared to Adrien's perpetually-happy countenance. Maybe they weren't related after all.
She kept reading. "Gabriel Agreste rose to fame around twenty-five years ago, after he debuted the akuma design. For about ten years he was very successful, one of the biggest names in fashion. He married the popular actress Emilie Graham de Vanily, who passed away thirteen years ago. After de Vanily died, Gabriel Agreste slowly stopped designing before altogether abandoning his career, moving to the countryside and removing himself from the public eye."
Marinette gasped. How awful for him! She scrolled down the page further, looking for information on his family life. Did Gabriel Agreste have children?
"Agreste and de Vanily met at one of the Agreste House fashion shows. She offered to model the designs since she was so impressed by them. A year later, they were married. She continued to model for Agreste House along with their son, Adrien Agreste, until her death."
Marinette couldn't keep her hands from shaking. There he was. Her suspicions had been true. That was why Adrien knew about sewing, that was why he was so impressed when she told him she made her own clothes. Adrien knew fashion. Adrien had been a model!
She clicked on his name, and it redirected her to a wiki page all his own. Did Adrien know he had a wiki page? Marinette scrolled hungrily, but she didn't find much information she hadn't already learned from his father's page. Nothing on the wiki had been updated since Adrien's childhood. There was nothing about modeling into his teens or twenties, there was nothing about the university he was currently attending. But the many adorable photos made up for that.
Marinette examined the pictures of Adrien modeling his father's designs. He couldn't have been older than eight or ten, and Marinette's eyes turned into hearts. "He's so adorable, Plagg! Look at him!" She showed the photos of baby Adrien to her kwami, but he just laughed at her.
"All humans look like that to me," he told her. "You're babies in comparison to my centuries of life."
Marinette rolled her eyes, her mind too excited for jokes. She was making life-changing discoveries about her crush!
She closed Adrien's page and snooped around some more, clicking on the link to his mother's page. There were many photos there, as well; stills of Emilie in her more prominent films, in addition to her modeling pictures. It took Marinette's breath away to see just how much Adrien looked like his mother. Everything Marinette loved about Adrien was there in Emilie's face: the softness of the eyes, the disarming smile, the golden hair. She was so lovely, and she had died so young.
"Emilie Agreste passed away thirteen years ago in a car accident, leaving the last film she featured in, Solitude, unfinished," Marinette read silently to herself. Thirteen years ago. How old had Adrien been then? Seven? Eight? It made Marinette's stomach churn. Did he still think about her? Did he miss her dreadfully, or had time done its duty putting space between the events and his feelings?
She sat back in her chair, brow furrowed. The questions itched at her, begged for the answers only he could give. Marinette felt, now more than ever, that she had to make her feelings known. Adrien was so sweet. She hated the idea of him, all alone in his apartment, missing Emilie more than anything. She wanted to be there to talk with him, to comfort him, to make him smile again, to wrap her arms around him and just hold him when life got too heavy for him to hold himself up.
Marinette sighed. The only way to make that happen was to bear her heart and tell him how she felt. She let her mind wander to the corridor outside their classroom, or to the hallway by Professor Fu's office. She imagined them standing there together, Adrien giving her his winning grin again, and Marinette opening her mouth, letting those words spill out, hearing them in her own ears as if through a filter. "Adrien, there's something I need to tell you." His expression would open in curiosity, and she would blush, continuing, "I really like you. Let's get coffee? Or something else? As long as it's with you, I don't care where we go." And Adrien's eyes would widen, and he would put his hand on her shoulder, lean closer, and —
"Nghhh," Marinette grumbled, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment. If only it really were that easy.
In the middle of the night, Marinette jolted awake, her head spinning, in a cold pool of her own sweat. She threw the blanket off of herself, gasping, trying to return to reality from the nightmare that had plagued her. Images of a limousine driving away from a movie premier, smashed to pieces, a blonde head hanging out the side…
She shook her head, breathing labored. Although she couldn't see, Plagg was suddenly there at her side. "Are you alright?"
"Nightmare." As she said it, she tried to calm herself down, tried to settle back into bed. She had a big day tomorrow. She needed her sleep.
But sleep evaded her, and as Marinette laid in her bed, wide awake, her imagination running amok, she realized that the last thing she was going to successfully achieve was sleep, especially in her current state.
She launched herself out of bed as quietly as possible, creeping out of the bedroom, trying not to wake Alya. When she got into the living room, the moonlight streaming through the blinds gave her inspiration for the perfect way to clear her head.
"Plagg, transform me," she whispered, and her pajamas vanished, replaced by the Kitty Noire suit she was beginning to love so well. She left the apartment, lithe as a cat, and launched herself into the night, searching for the most comforting, well-lit landmark in Paris.
As she hopped from roof to roof, her eyes settled on it — there, the Eiffel Tower. All lit up like a Christmas tree at the holidays. She'd head there, relax a bit, allow the crisp air to clear her head, and then she'd come right back.
Of course, Kitty Noire's plans to relax didn't quite go as planned. When she got to the Tower, she found another superhero already occupying her spot.
"Cocci?" she asked in surprise. "What are you doing out so late?"
Coccinello's features morphed from a bored line into a wide grin. "What are you talking about, Kitty Cat?" he joked, calling her by the nickname he had given her a few battles before. "It's only just midnight! The night is still young!"
Kitty Noire landed right next to him, taking a seat at his side. She rolled her eyes at the nickname. "Should I start calling you Bug Boy?" she teased, booping his nose with a clawed finger for emphasis.
Coccinello leered playfully, cocking an eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind…"
Kitty Noire laughed. "You're so silly."
The friends sat for a moment, simply looking out at the beautiful city spread before them, even more splendid from their high vantage point. Coccinello seemed to know what Kitty Noire was thinking, because he echoed her thoughts, "Isn't Paris beautiful? I'm so grateful, every time I come out to keep watch, that I get to live in such an amazing city, and that I'm lucky enough to be able to appreciate it like this."
Kitty Noire smiled to herself. He was right. There were only two people in Paris who could do this, and they were both taking advantage of it right at that moment. "Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like had I not moved here," she told him, and as she said it, she realized she had never voiced it aloud to anyone, not even Plagg. Not even Alya. "Had I stayed in my hometown, I mean. I think I might have been an entirely different person." She wouldn't have gotten her internship, she wouldn't have become Kitty Noire.
She looked over at Coccinello to find his eyes already on hers. His big, open eyes she loved, the ones that were like mirrors, reflecting his innermost thoughts. She gazed into them and found that he agreed with her, that he was also grateful that she had come to Paris.
Kitty Noire's eyebrow raised. Was she interpreting that right?
She glanced back at him, but he ducked his head, hiding his eyes from her once more. Kitty Noire felt guilty for being so invasive, but she couldn't help it if his eyes betrayed him. Still, she should say something. "I'm glad I moved here, too."
Coccinello's cheeks were a bit pink when he looked back at her, his expression bashful. Kitty regarded him again, and there was a small silent moment, both wondering if the other would speak first.
Suddenly, both heroes broke out in giggles. Kitty Noire had to hold onto the steel beams of the monument to keep herself from falling. Coccinello's blush vanished, replaced with the glow of laughter. It was a very becoming look on him, and as he wiped small tears out of his eyes, he said, "How do you do that so well?"
Kitty Noire elbowed him teasingly. "You're an open book, Coccinello."
He joined in the banter. "Let's hope I'm an exciting one. An adventure story? Maybe a swashbuckler or a crime novel? What about a fairy tale?" He leaned close to her again, his playful look back on his face. "Or perhaps a romance?"
Kitty Noire pushed his face away from hers, but not without chuckling. "Oh, you," she sighed, shaking her head. Her heart felt light from the fun discussion, the kind of mischief only Coccinello could bring to her life. And with that came the realization that she had successfully cleared her head, had recovered from her nightmare, and it was time to go back to bed.
She stood, pulling out her baton. "See you around, Cocci," she saluted, extending her weapon to vault herself home.
"Have a good night, Kitty Cat," he called, winking as she launched herself into the darkness.
Kitty Noire smiled to herself in amusement. That bug always knew how to make her forget what was troubling her.