Marinette awoke the next morning with her stomach in a knot, short of breath. She was actually going to confess to Adrien today. She rolled over, looked at the clock on her phone. 08:43. In about an hour, Adrien would know how she felt about him. But hopefully — and this was the part that had her jittering — hopefully, that also meant that in an hour, she would be Adrien Agreste's girlfriend.

She dressed, ate, and brushed her teeth in a daze, and when Alya woke up about twenty minutes later, she stopped Marinette in her zombie tracks. "Hey, everything alright?"

Marinette looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, physically unable to keep her brows from contracting into a worried line. "I'm gonna tell Adrien, Alya. I'm not just going to ask him on a coffee date. I'm going to confess."

Alya's eyes bugged out of her head. "You're kidding," she breathed in disbelief.

But Marinette just shook her head solemnly, bending over to rinse and spit.

"Wow. What made you decide to go all in?" she asked, reaching over Marinette to grab her own toothbrush.

Marinette wiped her face on her towel and hung her head. "His mom died."

Alya choked on her toothpaste. "What? When?!"

"Thirteen years ago."

Alya gave Marinette a look. "And that's why you've decided to confess?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. I couldn't stop thinking about him, sitting alone in his apartment, missing her to pieces. It made me want to be there for him."

Alya brushed her teeth silently for a little while. When she finished, she turned to her friend. "Marinette. Adrien practically lives at Nino's. You don't have to worry about him. And I'm sure he does miss his mother, anyone would. But it's been over a decade since she passed. I hate to suggest this, but… don't you think he's over it by now? He doesn't need you to swoop in to play the hero or something."

Marinette's face scrunched at that last bit. She wasn't playing hero. Was she? "I just felt something when I learned about his mother. It made me want to reach out."

Alya moved into the closet. "Then reach out, but you don't have to admit your feelings if you aren't ready just because you discovered something about his past."

Marinette's shoulders fell. Alya had a point. She had keyed herself up for nothing. "I mean, you're totally right. But I want someone to love, Alya. And if Adrien is the someone I want, why should I wait?"

Alya responded over the sounds of her rummaging in drawers. "Then go for it, girl! All I meant was that I didn't want you to feel pressured to do something that made you uncomfortable just because you felt badly for him."

"Thanks," she answered, letting herself smile. Maybe Plagg really had been onto something. It was clear to Marinette, at this moment, how silly she had been when she had suggested to him that all Alya wanted was to "spice her life up." Alya just wanted Marinette to be happy.

It made some of her nerves relax. Things would be okay, no matter how her confession went today.

For once, Marinette was early to Chinese Mythology, and Adrien wasn't. She waited for him, her knee jiggling, hoping both that he would arrive and that he would miss class altogether so that she wouldn't have to go through with this.

She almost started chewing her nails, a habit she had broken in middle school, when he walked through the lecture hall door, his expression blank. Marinette's stomach flipped. Was he okay?

He took his seat one away from her, gave her a weak wave to say hello, and pulled his materials out for class. Marinette's gaze fell into her lap. Could she do this now? With him so sad?

The brave part of her, the part that reminded her that she was Kitty Noire, yelled that of course she could! The perfect opportunity to cheer him up!

So, before she could stop herself, she cleared her throat and turned to him. "Hey, Adrien…"

He looked at her, his eyes open but reserved. "Mm-hm?"

"There's… something… something I need to tell you," she squeezed out.

His eyes immediately cleared, his expression opened, his lips parted in wonder. "What is it?"

All Marinette could hear was her heart hammering in her ears. She could feel it pulsing in her chest, in her palms, in her fingertips and toes. It made her dizzy. Oh God. She was doing this. "It's just that I…"

Fortunately for Marinette, that was when Professor Fu came into class to start the lesson. "Never mind," she told Adrien as the professor began his lecture, "I'll just tell you later."

Adrien's face fell in disappointment, but he nodded.

Suffice it to say, it was the most anxious class period Marinette had ever endured.

By the time class was over, Marinette had decided that she would simply miss the beginning of History of Modern Fashion in order to confess to Adrien. She had been determined that it would happen today, and it would happen today!

He had finished packing up faster than her, and had already left the classroom by the time Marinette's things were in order. She ran out of the lecture hall, casting about in the hallway, trying to see if she could still catch him. She searched among the throng of bustling students, trying to find — there! Adrien was just turning the corner.

She sprinted down the hall, shoved through the rush of students around her, racing to catch up to him, thinking of nothing else but telling him exactly what she had been rehearsing to herself all through class.

Marinette turned the corner, pushed open the door, and found him standing by the adjacent lecture hall. Her heart soared until her eyes landed on something — or someone — else, and everything seemed to stop, then start back up in slow motion.

Adrien was with Chloé. She was hanging on his arm, looking up into his face with adoration. Adrien was laughing at something she was saying, a big laugh, one that threw his head back because it couldn't be contained. They walked together toward the sandwich shop, arm in arm, without a care in the world.

Marinette's heart sank all the way into her shoes. Suddenly, all the energy that had invigorated her, that had been pumping in her bloodstream, giving her the confidence to bear her feelings, was sapped, leaving her drained. She could hardly stay standing in the doorway.

He had a girlfriend. This entire time. Chloé was the girl he loved, the girl he wanted. And why shouldn't she be? She was beautiful, the daughter of the mayor, someone much more on par with the son of a designer. Adrien had been a model, for Christ's sakes! Why would he have ever looked at Marinette like that? Why did she ever allow herself to think that he had been looking at her like that?

Everything: the party at Nino's, the conversation in the hallway, the discussion about the new heroes, all of those things had happened to Marinette while Adrien was dating a beautiful girl.

Without watching where she was going, Marinette ran. She couldn't bear to sit through a whole class period while her head was spinning so violently. She collapsed on a patch of grass and bawled into her hands, holding nothing back, allowing all her pent up feelings to release themselves right here, right at this moment. Allowing herself to feel the pain that was ripping her apart.

Adrien was not hers, and never would be.

He was Chloé's boyfriend. The girl who had made her life a living hell last year. Who had stolen clothes she'd designed, then worn them to important parties claiming them as her own work. Who'd landed an internship with an even more prestigious design house than the PDH.

All of Marinette's best efforts, down the drain.

Of course a girl like her would be the one to get to Adrien first.

Plagg phased out of Marinette's purse after a few minutes, after everyone had gotten to their classes and campus was mostly empty.

"Marinette," he said piteously, floating up to land on her shoulder, trying to comfort his wielder's heartbreak.

"Plagg, I'm such an idiot," she shouted the last word, but it was muffled in her hands. "What was I thinking?"

Plagg said nothing for a moment. "You weren't. You were following your heart."

"Well, I wish I hadn't. My heart doesn't know shit," she mumbled through her tears.

Plagg whined in sorrow. "Don't say that, Marinette! You always have to follow your heart, even if it leads you astray. All great heroes follow their hearts. The ones who stop are the ones who go bad, the ones who become villains."

Marinette didn't answer, just wiped her face and looked at her kwami. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her skin was glossy with the tears that she had smeared over her cheeks.

"I know you cared for Adrien. But the situation could have been much worse. Imagine how embarrassing it would have been for the both of you, had you gone through with your declaration. At least this way, he doesn't know how you felt, and you can continue to interact with him with the knowledge that your secret is safe," Plagg told her, his logic flawless. It was fortunate, indeed.

She colored in humiliation just imagining it. "Oh, God. You're right." She picked at the grass underneath her. "But that doesn't change things. I'm still angry at myself for getting my hopes up. Now what? I was so ready for love, to finally give it a try after years of focusing only on my schoolwork and my job. It's so disappointing." Her shoulders fell and she flopped onto her back on the grass.

Plagg laid beside her, his head level with her ear. "There were those other two guys at the party. The ones Alya thought you'd like."

Marinette dismissed that idea with a wave of her hand. "I didn't care about any of them. And it's stupid now. My heart wants Adrien. I just have to deal with that until my heart stops wanting Adrien, and then I can give someone else a try."

Plagg didn't say anything to that for a long while, just watched the clouds roll over the blue sky along with his wielder. "When do you think that will be?" he finally asked.

Marinette gave no answer, which surprised Plagg. He got up from his spot on the grass to look into her eyes, and found silent tears rolling down her cheeks. At last, she put her hands over her face, and said, "I don't know," the words breaking as she began her crying anew.

In spite of Marinette's feelings, duty called about three hours later. A new monster was spotted near the Louvre museum. Marinette was walking to the Parisian Design House when someone nearby gasped at their phone and shouted to their friends. Marinette ducked into an alley and opened her purse. "Plagg, we have a situation."

"Will you be able to take care of this in your state?"

"I'm gonna have to," she told her kwami reluctantly. She called for her transformation with as much excitement as she could muster before vaulting out of the alley and flying to the museum.

When she landed in front of the Louvre, Coccinello was already there. Kitty Noire couldn't help but be annoyed as she scoped out the monster. Couldn't it have picked another time to attack Paris? When she was in less of an emotional turmoil?

"Boy am I glad to see you, Kitty Cat," Coccinello smiled when she arrived beside him.

"The feeling is mutual," she answered, her focus on the monster. She wanted to defeat it as quickly as possible. She didn't have the patience for this right now.

Coccinello noticed her lack of spunk. "You okay?"

"Dandy. Where do you think the victim is?" Kitty Noire curbed her partner.

Coccinello frowned but didn't address her mood again. He turned back to the monster. It was a large robotic spider; they could tell by the way it clunked along the street, spraying webs out of its mouth and tying up civilians. "My bet is the body," he said.

Kitty shook her head. "I don't think so. Usually the victim is in the head."

"Usually," Coccinello emphasized. "But the head is quite small for a monster of this size. I'm staying with the body."

Kitty Noire shrugged. "Alright, cool. Let's aim for the body then."

Coccinello called for his lucky charm and Kitty prepped her cataclysm. They raced toward the beast without speaking; by now they were so well coordinated, so experienced in defeating monsters of this type, that they knew what to do without having to strategize. That was one of the reasons why Kitty Noire was so frustrated. Defeating a monster like this was nothing more than a tedious chore, a waste of her time and energy.

Within minutes, the monster was defeated and the person rescued. This one was a young girl, maybe twelve years old, and once she was on the ambulance stretcher, Kitty Noire extended her baton and left the scene, completely ignoring all the fans, not even excusing herself from the reporters. Coccinello watched her go, speechless.

"I'm sorry, Nadja. Kitty Noire is just a little tired after the battle. We'll talk next time!" and he yo-yoed after her, mind reeling at her rudeness, concern for her beginning to bubble up in his stomach.

"Kitty! Wait!" he called, finally landing on the roof in front of her and cutting off her escape route. "What was all that about? You're not yourself this afternoon."

Kitty Noire looked up into the cloudy sky to avoid meeting Coccinello's gaze. What could she say? "I've just had my heart shattered into a million pieces"? No thank you.

"Look. It's been… a rough day," was all she could muster. She put her hand back on her baton, moving to leave, when Coccinello put his hand on hers to stop it.

She looked up at him defensively, trying to frighten him into leaving her alone. But Coccinello didn't budge. "Kitty, I'm your friend. You can talk to me."

Kitty Noire's shoulders fell. Her heart rate began to slow and she steadied her breathing. Coccinello was right. He was her friend. If there was anyone in the world she could talk to, it was him. "Do you ever feel like you set yourself up for failure?"

Coccinello hesitated. "What do you mean?"

Kitty turned away, leaving her back to Coccinello. "Do you ever get your hopes up for something, and then you get disappointed, and there's no one to blame but yourself?" she asked softly.

Coccinello regarded her back, pity swimming in his eyes. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, and then pulled it away. "I'm not sure," he finally answered. "I rarely get my hopes up for anything, because I always get disappointed if I do."

Kitty turned suddenly to look at her friend. Coccinello had never said anything like that before. She knew him as her fearless partner, never stressed, always confident; the optimist to her pessimist. But this?

For a moment, she forgot about Adrien. Was Coccinello alright? "What happened, Cocci?"

He shook his head, his blue gaze dropping to his feet. After a moment, he peeked back up at her through his hair. "Nothing happened. At least, not yet. But I have a feeling that the next time I do put myself out there, it won't end well."

Kitty's ears drooped. Was Coccinello heartbroken too? "Is it… about love?" she asked.

Coccinello colored a little and his eyes snapped to meet hers. He stared at her for many beats, and Kitty's eyes widened when she found that she was right. "Did she hurt you?" she asked her friend, but it was so quiet, it was like a breath.

Coccinello laughed without humor. "Not yet. But she will." He straightened up, gripped his yo-yo with resolve, and bid farewell to Kitty before leaving. She watched him go and wondered incredulously at how Coccinello could make her forget all about Adrien in her concern for him, at how he had managed to turn the tables on her so easily. She was supposed to be the one running away without explaining anything, not the other way around.

Clocking into work at Sloppy Joe's was the last thing Marinette wanted to do that evening. What she really wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come out; at least not in the near future, while her heart was still hurting and her brain was still spinning over everything that had happened that day.

She put her cap on, Plagg underneath, and headed out onto the floor, willing her best fake smile to stick onto her face.

Lila noticed Marinette's low demeanor and pulled her aside. "Are you okay?"

Marinette nodded, and then shook her head, her eyes tearing up again. Lila gasped and put her arms around Marinette, letting her cry into her shoulder. "Oh, Lila. It's the worst! It turns out he has a girlfriend!" she cried, unable to keep it in any longer.

Marinette hadn't confided in Lila, so she had no idea who Marinette was talking about. But she was a girl who knew enough about life to guess. "Oh no! Well he's a dirty rotten scoundrel for lying to you and leading you on like that! Do you want to go to the bar after work and talk about it? Wind down a bit?"

Marinette just nodded, slumped over into her friend's shoulder. "That would be lovely."

Lila clicked her tongue. "Poor Marinette. You deserve better," and she hugged her tightly, giving her a few pats on the back to let her know that she wasn't alone in this hard world.

Marinette let go after a minute, wiped her face for the fifth time that day, and nodded. Adrien or no Adrien, there were customers to serve.

Jacques Grimault, bartender at the Jacques-à-dit Bar, noticed Marinette's glum looks and sashayed over to where she and Lila had just sat down.

"You ladies look like you could use a pick-me-up," he commented to them.

"Something strong, please," Marinette answered, holding out her card to put the drink on her tab. Lila put her hand on top of Marinette's to stop her, handing her own card to Jacques instead.

"It's on me. I'm the one who invited you out."

"Thanks, Lila. It means a lot."

Jacques left to get their drinks, and Lila asked Marinette to start from the beginning about her heartbreak, and Marinette did, of course leaving out anything that could endanger her secret identity.

"That sounds awful, Marinette! It really seemed like he was giving you all the signs! And the fact that he's with Chloé Bourgeois — the worst! That girl is insufferable!"

"I know! How could someone as sweet as Adrien want to be with someone as bratty and rude as her?"

Jacques set the drinks down in front of the friends and Marinette didn't hesitate before downing hers. The alcohol made her chest feel warm and fuzzy, and she took a deep breath to settle herself, allowing the drink to relax her. Slowly, the stress of the day began to fade, and Marinette found she didn't want to linger on Adrien anymore. She wanted to forget all about him. She wanted her mind to stop jumping back to that conversation with Coccinello, too. She wanted to stop wondering who the awful girl was.

She shook her head to clear it, forcing herself to move on. "Oh, enough about me and my sob story. Let's talk about something more interesting," and with that, she turned to Lila with a smile.

Lila told Marinette about herself — about where she grew up, about her childhood, and Marinette did the same. Lila was delighted to learn that Marinette's family were bakers, that they owned their own bakery in the south of France. "Did you learn to bake, too?"

Marinette giggled, three empty cocktail glasses at her side. In her carefree state, she failed to notice Lila's singular glass, half of her drink still sitting untouched. "Of course I did. I worked for them all through high school," she answered cheerily.

Lila's eyes swam with hearts. "Can you bake something for me? Like some croissants or macarons?"

"Sure, anything you'd like," Marinette bubbled, her head feeling light and happy. She put her arm on the bar and used it to prop her head up.

Lila clasped her fingers together and hopped in her seat. "Oh, thank you! That would be amazing!"

The two girls laughed and talked some more, and Marinette was at peace. It was the exact thing she needed to get her mind off Adrien. Was she still heartbroken? Of course. But the throbbing pain in her chest was beginning to let up. She didn't need love in her life. She just needed good friends who made her happy. And luckily enough, she had one right here.

As the girls left the bar and walked down the street, Lila noticed that Marinette was wearing a ring. "Is that new? I don't remember you wearing it before," she remarked, and Marinette, in her haze, realized that, indeed, the day Lila had started at Sloppy Joe's was the day Marinette had taken her miracle stone off.

"No, it's pretty old. But I started wearing it again recently. It was a gift from a very important friend of mine," she answered, admiring it on her finger.

"Well, it's very nice," Lila smiled, continuing to look at it. In fact, her eyes flicked back to look at it so often, alarm bells went off in Marinette's head, despite her somewhat intoxicated state. Was Lila suspicious of Marinette? Did she know what it really was?

Marinette grew nervous, and she put her hands in her pockets to put a stop to Lila's weird behavior.

However, everything went back to normal when they parted at Marinette's apartment building, so much so that Marinette wondered if she was just imagining things.

As Marinette climbed the stairs to her door, Plagg poked his head out of her clutch. "I'm glad you had a nice time tonight."

Marinette grinned, looking out at the street, seeing Lila's figure getting smaller and smaller. "Me, too."

Marinette's buoyant smile faded as she put the key in the lock, realizing too late that Alya was going to ask her how things went, and she was going to have to talk about her broken heart all over again.

Happily for her, Alya was not waiting in the living room to ambush her for details. Juleka and Mylène sat at the dinner table chatting lightly. "Hi, Marinette!" Mylène called as Marinette closed the door behind herself. She waved at them with a fake smile and braced herself for the slew of questions that had to be waiting behind her bedroom door.

Alya, however, had no intention to grill her friend, and when she laid eyes on the disappointed expression stuck on Marinette's features, she stood up from her desk and simply embraced her. Marinette wrapped her arms around Alya's back and just stood there, neither of them speaking.

Alya rubbed Marinette's back in soothing circles, pulling her towards their beds and letting her take a seat. Marinette sighed, her hands falling into her lap.

"You don't have to tell me about it," Alya offered, but Marinette was shaking her head before the words had finished coming out of Alya's mouth.

"Of course I do. You were the one who told me not to do it. I should have listened."

Alya squirmed, her face falling. That hadn't been why she had dissuaded her friend.

Marinette continued. "But whatever you're thinking, it's wrong. Adrien didn't reject me, at least not with his words. His actions let me know enough, though." Marinette looked up to meet her roommate's quizzical hazel eyes, and she took a breath. "Adrien has a girlfriend. And it's Chloé, of all people." Marinette slumped over on her bed as she said it. The words tasted awful on her tongue.

Alya's eyebrows flew all the way to her hairline. "What? How do you know?"

"I saw them, Alya. Cuddling up after class. Yuck," Marinette replied, emotionless.

Alya sputtered for a moment, her brain trying to wrap around the news. "But — But, Nino never mentioned, and… I just don't understand. Chloé? With someone like Adrien?"

Marinette threw her arms up in the air. "Well, maybe it's a relatively new development. And why not? They're both gorgeous. It makes perfect sense."

But Alya shook her head. "No way! FYI, I don't think either of them are gorgeous. I see a brat who can't respect personal property, and I see a nice guy, perfect for my best friend. How can —"

"Oh, stop!" Marinette cried out from under her pillow. "He's clearly not perfect for your best friend because he's in love with someone else…!" Marinette grumbled in frustration, and Alya's face shifted into one of sorrow.

"I'm sorry. This is… just a terrible situation, and I can't understand it. But I wasn't there today, I didn't see it. I'm sure you know what you saw." Alya stood off her own bed and sat at the foot of Marinette's, running her hand along her friend's calf, trying to comfort her after her misinterpretation of Marinette's emotions.

Marinette just laid there for many minutes, and Alya thought she could hear small cries coming from beneath the pillow. She hung her head, at a loss. Marinette was the strongest person Alya knew. To see her so low, it was like witnessing the falling of a great tree, one whose broad branches you had always counted on to shade you from the merciless sun.

The girls stayed there, saying nothing, for a long, long time. Eventually, Marinette pulled the pillow off her face and looked up at the friend at the foot of her bed. "Help me get over him," she pleaded, and her expression was so pitiful, Alya would have done anything she may have asked at that moment.

So Alya clenched her fists and shouted, "I'm so pissed! How dare he! How dare he just talk to you, and flirt with you, and trick all of us at that party that he was digging you while, in fact, he was digging Chloé! What a snake! What an ass!" And Alya stood off the bed, marching around their room as she trash-talked Adrien.

Marinette's smile slowly returned, and as Alya continued giving Adrien more bad names, and coming up with wild ways to exact revenge, Marinette finally giggled and jumped up to join her, and they shouted at one another all the mean things they could think of, the nicknames and the punishments getting more outlandish the longer they went on. When it was over, Marinette's sides hurt with her laughter, and Alya was hugging her, and as they stood there in the center of the room, holding onto one another, Marinette allowed her heart to open up. Alya was an amazing best friend.

Of course, the girls never exacted any revenge on Adrien. They let him continue on, living his normal Chloé-loving life, but Marinette took strength from her shouting session with Alya. Adrien had misled her, and she was hurt. That was what she focused on. He had hurt her, and she didn't need someone like that in her life. She didn't need to waste her time caring about someone who was obviously so careless. If she was going to love someone, it would be someone who deserved it. Who didn't play around with her while their heart belonged to another. She told herself that again and again whenever she found her gaze settling on the back of Adrien's head in Chinese Mythology class. She didn't need him, she shouldn't need him. That was why she had returned to her usual place in the back row.

As she sorted out her feelings toward one blond boy, her apprehension toward the other grew. She hadn't seen Coccinello since they had fought the spider monster, and she couldn't stop the thoughts ruminating over his well-being from randomly intruding upon her concentration. It made her desperate for closure, so she doubled the amount of patrols she went on, just hoping to run into him.

An afternoon a handful of days after the heartbreak, Kitty Noire was out scouting by the Arc de Triomphe, watching for anything strange, trying to discern signs of a monster attack, when Coccinello joined her, as he occasionally did.

Her heart soared. Her opportunity was here!

But something in his eyes made her hope dry up.

Kitty looked up at him to say hello, but Coccinello's cheeks flushed, his eyes immediately diving to the floor. Kitty Noire's eyebrows knitted together. Was he still not doing well?

"Everything alright?" she inquired, leaning toward her friend.

Coccinello ran a nervous hand through his already messy blond mop. "Yeah."

She continued to regard him, almost daring his eyes to meet hers once more, just so she could see what he was attempting to hide behind them. Had the things he had predicted come to pass? Had the girl he loved let him down? She tried to learn the answers from his open eyes, but memories of her previous nosiness flooded Kitty's brain, so she looked away, into the distance, giving him his privacy.

The wind was blowing more fiercely now than it had all month, and Kitty Noire was thankful for her magical suit, as it protected her from feeling the wind chill. Her braid tossed in the breeze and Kitty held it to herself, wishing that her suit could also protect her from the chill in her heart. What if Coccinello never became his regular, cheerful self again? Kitty didn't think she could bear that.

While lost in her thoughts, Kitty Noire didn't notice Coccinello clench his fists and take a few measured breaths. He gazed at her back, expression conflicted. Finally he took a few steps closer to her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and spoke. "Kitty. I… was wondering."

Kitty Noire turned to examine her partner, her big green cat eyes wide with renewed hope. Was he finally going to confide in her? "What's on your mind?" she prompted, after Coccinello hadn't said anything for a few moments.

He exhaled and his tense shoulders dropped. He neutralized his expression, and when he turned back to look at her, he asked, "In your civilian life, you wouldn't happen to have a special someone, would you, Kitty Cat?"

Coccinello's sky blue eyes chose that moment to pierce right into hers, and Kitty would have stumbled backwards had Coccinello's steadying hand not been on her shoulder. Her mind jumped to thoughts of Adrien and her gaze fell to her feet, her ears drooping slightly. "No, I don't…" she answered, her unexpected pain preventing her from realizing why exactly her partner had decided to ask her this question.

"In that case, I wanted to know," he smiled, his tone more confident, his hand moving from her shoulder to the bottom of her chin, tilting her eyes to meet his again, his other hand pushing his hair out of his face, "if there was room in your life for a particular bug."

Kitty Noire was confused for just a moment, about to reply, about to say, "but you're already in my life, Coccinello" when his face opened up and his expression shifted into one of complete seriousness, all playfulness gone. And the burning look he gave her made the breath rush out of her lungs, and suddenly her head felt light, as if she were hanging upside down, the blood cascading up into her brain, echoing in her ears.

Was she the girl Coccinello had been speaking of that day? The one he was so sure would reject him? All this time… her partner, in love with her?

His hand travelled down her arm, his fingers trailing the neon seams of her otherwise midnight suit, stopping when they brushed her clawed fingertips. They lingered against her palm, playfully slipped in and out from between her own fingers. It messed with Kitty's concentration, it made a shiver involuntarily run down her spine. Coccinello's eyes sure were something, and the way he held her — strongly with one hand, and gently with the other — made her focus blow a fuse.

How did she feel in return?

Just last week she had been so determined to confess her feelings for Adrien, but now, standing in front of Coccinello's broad frame, the wind tossing his hair in and out of his mirror eyes, with his hands on her and his gaze telling her just what it was he wanted… Suddenly, she wasn't so sure it had been Adrien she had the feelings for after all. Perhaps it was another blond man, one who knew her so well, one who understood her in a way no one else did. Perhaps…

All at once, the logical part of Kitty Noire's brain caught up with what was happening. Her hand fell out of his grip, her gaze dropped to their feet, breaking the spell he had put her under. What was she thinking? Be with Coccinello? He was her hero partner. That wasn't how they were supposed to do things, regardless of his feelings.

But that was just it. His feelings absolutely mattered, and Kitty couldn't stop her thoughts from returning to that day. How easily her concern for Coccinello had completely eclipsed her sadness over Adrien. She imagined herself with Adrien, back in that hallway again, and her heart leaped. But then she changed the scene, allowed herself to imagine it a way she had never allowed herself to before: instead of Adrien, Coccinello was the one standing there, holding her, leaning down and making her heart race. It made her ask herself questions she had never dared to ask. What did Adrien have that Coccinello did not? How much did she truly care about Adrien as a person, in comparison to how much she cared for Coccinello?

It grew in Kitty Noire's head, overwhelming her — all the evidence against Adrien, all the evidence in favor of Coccinello — and she felt her color rising when she realized that the answer her heart was beating to give him was yes.

Guilt seeped into her stomach. But was this right? To move onto Coccinello when she was still getting over Adrien?

A smaller — less rational, but more persuasive — part of her thoughts pointed out that she had wanted someone to love, hadn't she? And here he was, standing right in front of her. The someone she had asked for. Maybe not the someone she had thought she wanted at first, but certainly the someone that she wanted now. What was so wrong with that?

Coccinello's voice broke into her warring thoughts. "Kitty, are you okay? I didn't mean to put the spotlight on you like that…" his face fell and he regarded her with an expression full of concern, and a bit of frustration with himself for pressuring her. He moved away from her, closed his eyes in anguish.

But it was that moment that convinced Kitty Noire more than anything.

Coccinello was the most caring person she knew. Someone who believed in her, even when she had thought herself a murderer. Someone who always knew how to cheer her up, who could read her mind during the battles they fought together. Coccinello cared about whether or not he hurt her, whether or not he pressured her, whether or not she was happy, or upset, or in danger. He was everything Adrien hadn't been.

Kitty Noire's face cleared up in realization. Coccinello was her someone to love — not Adrien — and the fact that it had taken this long for her to figure it out made her laugh in disbelief, but also in joy, because now that she had figured it out, nothing was going to keep her from doing something about it.

Without thinking, Kitty Noire launched herself at Coccinello, closing the space between them in one bound. She went into his arms and held him, and he, a bit dazed, held her in return, petting her head gently, trailing his fingers in her hair. They stayed like that for many moments, just holding onto one another, Kitty leaning her head into his chest, Coccinello smiling down at her.

"Am I right to take that as a yes, Kitty Cat?" he asked her once she had loosened her grip enough to look up into his eyes.

She giggled with giddiness, moving her arms to wrap about his neck. "Yes, you are. And also," she blushed, her eyes dipping flirtatiously, "yes, there is a space in my life for a particular bug. It's been waiting for you to claim it," and she winked at him, just to give him a taste of his own teasing.

Coccinello's bubbly chuckle made his head tilt back, and when he looked into her eyes again, the happy glow that Kitty loved to see on him had returned at last, and he was beaming at her, his joy radiant, so Kitty Noire closed her eyes and basked in his sunshine.