It would be a gross understatement to claim that Kitty Noire was more than a little stressed by these revelations. She was completely frayed. Her nerves were shot.

The questions just spiraled around her head, day and night, haunting her in her dreams. Shaky figures, dark and looming, laughed at her in nightmares in which she failed to retrieve the stolen peacock miracle stone. Coccinello was no longer by her side, instead taken hostage by the forces of evil that she couldn't even hope to defeat alone. What would she do without him? What would she do if he was taken?

Marinette awoke in a cold sweat, hyperventilating, from a particularly vivid dream in which the shaky figures demanded her miracle stone in exchange for Coccinello's life. And without a second thought, she slipped off her ring, turning back into her civilian self, and handed it over. But they killed Coccinello anyway.

Marinette rolled over, not able to stop the tears from bursting forth, cascading silently down her cheeks. Plagg felt her unrest and gently rubbed his paws in her hair as he was wont to do when she needed to be comforted.

Haggard and exhausted, Kitty Noire nearly fell over on her patrol the next evening. Part of her was avoiding Coccinello, too terrified to see his face, to remind herself of the fine details, of the plane of his cheeks or the angle of his nose. Another part of her prayed silently that he would find her and hold her to himself, assure her that they really were just nightmares, just her own inadequacies preying upon her in her sleep.

She sat on a rooftop, her head in her hands, her eyelids struggling to stay open. The worst part of all of this was the fact that it was nearing two weeks since the last sentimonster attack. The Parisians were celebrating, heralding their heroes and speaking as though this was it, that the evil was gone. Even Coccinello would imply that he was sure the hardest part of this fight was over.

But Kitty knew better, and the rock in her stomach grew at each passing day without a new attack. Because this meant that the peacock owner must be biding their time. That they must be planning something even bigger, even stronger and more fearsome than Kitty Noire or Coccinello had ever seen. What they should have been doing was preparing themselves, not taking a vacation. But as one hour folded into the next, and Kitty didn't see Coccinello anywhere, she shook her head in annoyance and assumed he wasn't out scouting tonight because he was deluded that they were safe, just as the rest of this city was.

Some fans waved at Kitty Noire from the street beneath her, so she waved back and gave them a tired smile. They continued on their way and in her sleepy haze, Kitty Noire thanked them for treating her like a normal human being.

Once it hit around 20:00, Kitty Noire headed home. She had made her rounds to all the usual places, but hadn't run into Coccinello. She heaved a sigh and hopped between roofs, her mind wandering.

She stopped at the banks of the Seine and watched the water ripple, trying to find that place inside her that would allow her to relax. The last time she had come to the river for solace was after their first fight, and when Kitty thought about it, it felt like years had passed since then. And yet, she still had the same fears, so perhaps it was no time at all.

As she stared at the water below her, Kitty Noire sensed some movement from above. A few buildings down, her red bug was yo-yoing toward her. Kitty couldn't figure out whether to smile or frown.

He alighted on the roof, right next to her, squatting to look at her. She could only give him a weak lift of one lip corner.

His face fell. "What's wrong, my kitten?"

She didn't meet his eyes, just continued to track the small ripples of the Seine, trying to discern the sounds of fish swimming in its depths. "I had a nightmare."

Coccinello put an arm around her, nuzzling close. "It'll be alright, Kitty Cat. I can feel it. We're a strong team."

Kitty Noire didn't lean into him, but she didn't push him away. Was he right? Perhaps. But was she as strong alone as they were together? Would she be able to save him?

Coccinello ran the tip of his nose along the top of her human ear. She almost relaxed into his touch when someone below cat-called and pointed up at them.

"Check it out!" they exclaimed, calling to friends, who raised their phones and shouted up to the heroes.

Kitty Noire's frayed nerves began to snap. She shoved Coccinello's face away from her, got up, and ran away, somewhere else, far from these people. Maybe even far from Coccinello.

He followed her, hopping along the rooftops in her trail, and she finally stopped at a familiar place they hadn't been to in almost as long. The warehouse where Coccinello had taken Kitty after their first failure. Just as it was then, it was deserted. Kitty rested against a railing, her back to Coccinello.

"This is about more than just a nightmare, Kitty. Be honest with me."

Kitty Noire's shoulders dropped, sighing at his perceptiveness.

He moved closer, put his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, her mind beginning to spin. Maybe this was all wrong. Maybe Coccinello was better without her. If she wasn't able to save him, maybe her proximity to him was dangerous. It excited their fans too much, which made her angry, made her irrational. And those were not good states to be in on the battlefield.

"Kitty…" he breathed out, imploring her to confide in him.

"I just don't think you're aware of how serious this all is," she finally answered.

"Of course I am!" His reply was immediate. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you don't patrol as often anymore. That you make jokes that we're out of the woods. But these sentimonsters are just the tip of the iceberg."

Coccinello inhaled deeply. "I'm just not sure why you think that. Clearly the feathers thwarted our enemy in a big way, and that's awesome. But the miracle stones have one power each. It's not like they can do anything more than what they've been doing! They make sentimonsters, and we know how to fight those sentimonsters. That's all there is to it! You're just tying yourself up in a knot for no reason!"

Kitty Noire listened to him, his tone rising as he went on, she fighting the tears that threatened her as they always seemed to do these days. But when he finished, her rage began to grow unchecked.

No reason? No reason?! she boggled, breathless. Of course there was reason! How could he not see it? This — what was happening between them — was dangerous, and it would ruin them in the end. She understood now what Fu had meant when he told her hero relationships were forbidden. Because she knew that if she got cornered, as she had in her nightmare, there was only one choice she would make, and it would be detrimental to all of them.

So she lashed out. "You don't understand anything! Otherwise you'd be as afraid as I am! I just — I can't, Cocci. I can't do this anymore!" she cried, holding her throbbing head between her hands, and as those words came out, she realized she had known that it would come to this.

Coccinello's eyes widened in the beginnings of fear, but he wouldn't let himself believe her words yet. "What… What do you mean? Can't do what, anymore?"

"This!" she shouted, gesturing madly between the two of them. "Us! It's all wrong, Cocci! We're breaking the rules, and… it's unprofessional. We should be coworkers and nothing more." She looked away, trying to choke back the tears but failing. She hated the words as she said them. She knew she was breaking his heart, and her own, that she was the one doing this to them, and no one else. It was almost unbearable; she wanted to take them back as soon as they were said, but the images of his beaten and bloody body, the echoes of his screams of agony, all of them implored her that this was the only choice to make. She had to do it for him, for them both, for the miracle stones.

Coccinello was silent for a moment, his own eyes beginning to glaze over, although Kitty couldn't see them due to her averted gaze. "I thought… I thought we had an understanding," he told her, and it was so empty, as if he knew it was useless to try and change her mind, but he had to try, he had to do something to keep this terrible thing from becoming their reality.

"We did," Kitty replied instantly, and it came out much harsher than she had intended it. She extended her baton and called over her shoulder, "but I need to focus," and she launched herself into the distance, as far as possible, letting him know with her body language not to follow this time.

In her desperate need to leave, she didn't see that her body language was unnecessary. Coccinello fell to his knees as he watched her go, holding himself, as if that would keep him from breaking.

In her room, Marinette buried herself in studying for History of Modern Fashion, the music blaring so loud in her earbuds, Plagg could hear it from under her bed. But even the loudest setting wasn't loud enough to keep her from feeling the guilt and shame that was eating her alive.

Alya's sexy Coccinello calendar still hung there, between their desks, taunting Marinette. Laughing at her. As if she could forget about her boyfriend (now ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself) that easily.

Marinette closed her laptop abruptly, yanking the earbuds out of her ears. "Plagg," she whispered, but not because she was afraid someone would hear. It was a whisper because she didn't have the emotional energy to do more.

Her kwami heard her anyway, as she knew he would, and he tentatively floated over to her desk. "Yes?"

"Did I do the right thing?" she asked, the sound muffled, as her face was in her arms, her mouth speaking into the wood of her desk.

It was a loaded question, and Plagg squirmed, saying nothing.

Marinette knew what his hesitation meant; she hadn't really expected an answer, after all. She turned her head to the side, so that she could see Plagg but stay on the pillow that her arms were at the moment. They regarded one another sadly for a long while, when Marinette breathed out, "Why did Fu trust me? I'm such a wreck with this miracle stone business. All I've done is make a mess of things, time and time again."

This question was one Plagg could answer, and he floated closer to her in his excitement to reassure her. "You were an excellent choice, Marinette. I understand the professor perfectly. The way I see it is that you have so many responsibilities and yet you're able to juggle them all without snapping. You have a strong character and I think he could see that you wouldn't break under the pressure. I will defend his choice until the ends of this Earth," Plagg gave her a genuine smile, so Marinette had to at least try to smile back. Her attempt was only a weak grimace, but Plagg understood her.

She sighed. "I see where he's coming from. But at the same time, if I'm already under pressure, adding more wouldn't be the solution I'd think of."

The two of them stayed like that for many minutes. Marinette tried not to spiral in her thoughts, but that guilt and shame demanded to be confronted, and Marinette could only resist for so long.

Plagg interrupted her rumination. "…It's possible that you were a little rude to Coccinello. He deserved an explanation. Instead you yelled at him and left him there all alone. I'm sure he thinks you hate him right now, but I know that's not the case. I know you did it because you care for him. But he doesn't know that."

The guilt and shame clawed at her edges, laughed at the pain those words caused her. Coccinello, thinking she hated him? How awful! She exhaled in horror, her brows knitting together in worry. "You really think so?" she echoed.

Plagg merely nodded.

Marinette started to cry, holding nothing back. She sobbed into her arms, and Plagg hovered for a moment, his ears and whiskers drooping, before going to comfort her.

"You should talk to him," he suggested as he leaned near her ear, petting her hair there.

Marinette nodded fiercely, trying to still her sobs so that she could speak. "But not tonight," she hiccuped. "I know I'll just explode again. I need a little time to plan what I'll say. Then I'll tell him tomorrow."

Plagg assured her with his silence that that was a good plan.

Marinette's tears were dry and she blankly stared at the cursor blinking at her, her focus far from the notes she was supposed to be taking.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, which startled her, because Alya was on another "Date Night" tonight, and it was far too early for her to have returned.

Marinette got up from her desk, Plagg darting back beneath her bed, and opened the door warily.

Mylène was on the other side, and Marinette immediately brightened.

"Hey, Marinette. Since Alya's out tonight, we figured you might be a little bored or lonely. Juleka and I are gonna watch a movie. Wanna join?"

A movie. So simple. The perfect escape from her misery. "Absolutely," she smiled to her roommate, grabbing a blanket before following them to the couch.

Juleka grabbed the remote and put on a comedy, and they all snuggled in together, chuckling at different parts, guffawing at the same parts, and overall de-stressing from their responsibilities. It was nice to forget about being Kitty Noire for one night.

Although Marinette didn't sleep well, she slept better than she had been for the previous weeks, (probably because the exhaustion had finally caught up to her) and she awoke feeling a little more refreshed than she was used to. That was good. She was going to need her wits about her tonight when she apologized and explained to Coccinello.

She squirmed as she brushed her teeth. Did he really think she hated him? She hoped desperately that he knew her well enough to understand her. To know that she could never hate him, and that their breakup really had very little to do with him at all.

A part of her bubbled with hope that maybe they would get back together after they sorted things out, but she pushed that down immediately. Under no circumstances could she and Coccinello get back together. It was safer this way. The distance was necessary.

But Marinette's stomach still twisted in unease as she rinsed and spit. Nothing was ever simple.

Class was a drag today. Marinette willed herself to at least make an attempt at focusing, but watching Professor Fu lecture just reminded Marinette that she was Kitty Noire. And sitting in that classroom, knowing that somewhere in the many rows of students around her, listening and diligently taking notes, sat a boy just as heartbroken as she was, made it all the worse.

As class progressed, Marinette couldn't help but notice one thing was very different. Sunflower Boy hadn't raised his hand nearly as much as he usually did. His silence bothered her, even though she tried to ignore it. So what if Sunflower Boy's perpetual happiness was interrupted? It was about time. His peppiness was annoying.

Inside herself, she knew those things weren't true. Just the resentment of a scorned heart. She considered talking to him, but almost laughed at herself. Like she was in any position to cheer someone up. Especially Sunflower Boy.

Class came to an end a minute early, so Marinette took a little extra time packing up, unable to summon the energy to rush off to History of Modern Fashion, even though getting in a little extra studying before the quiz would do her good.

Her dawdling led to something very unexpected; a hand on her shoulder. Marinette jumped in shock at the contact, coming face to face with…

"Adrien?" she breathed.

"Hey, Marinette." He waved, but she could see his heart wasn't in it. Poor guy. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. Her heart went out to him. Was he okay?

"Did you… need something?" Marinette asked, brows raising in concern without her permission. She still wanted to be angry at him, but seeing his sad face, she just couldn't find it in herself. She let her anger go.

"I was just remembering," he replied, his hand flying to the back of his neck in nervousness. He gestured for them to head out of the classroom and she followed him down the hallway, walking with him to the next building. "You were going to tell me something important the other day, but you never got a chance to. What was it?"

Marinette's color spiked and her head whipped to look at him. Was he really asking this, now? What could she say? She certainly wasn't going to tell him the truth. Besides, her feelings for him were irrelevant now that she was with Coccinello. Or… not? She pushed those thoughts out of her head, but not before her stomach flipped with anxiety once more. She really, really needed to talk to that boy.

"Oh, it was nothing," she waved dismissively. But when she glanced back over to him, his face had fallen in disappointment. She recognized that look. He obviously didn't believe her.

"Um," Marinette casted about, hating that she could be so moved by his dejection. "It was that… I…" she searched her brain for something that wouldn't give her away. Because there was no chance she was going to admit that she had had feelings for Gabriel Agreste's son.

Like a lightning bolt the answer struck. She turned to him with sudden excitement. "I found out that your father is a designer!" she said with a smile. "No wonder you know so much about fashion! I was starting to go crazy wondering why you were so impressed that I made my own clothes," she added, and that part was certainly no lie.

"Oh!" Adrien brightened. "Yeah, I guess I assumed everyone knew that. But it makes me feel kind of happy that you didn't — good to know my last name doesn't precede me anymore." He stopped for a moment, realizing what he just said. "Not that I'm happy you were going crazy!" He waved his hands in apology, his face shifting into one of sincerity. "I wish I had known so that I could have spared you that confusion!"

And his apology was so genuine that Marinette stopped walking, just stood there looking at him. There was no way this was the same boy who had led her on, was it?

Adrien stopped walking, too, when he noticed she had done so. He regarded her curiously, trying to read her, but unable.

His expression was so open that a part of Marinette's heart nearly reconsidered. Adrien was actually just as sweet as she had originally thought. And it turned out he wasn't even with Chloé. He was single, she was single…

Marinette shook her head and continued walking, stopping those thoughts in their tracks. It was as she had said to Alya. That boat left the harbor. She and Adrien would never happen. Besides, he probably still loved Chloé, regardless of their currently off status. And her heart still belonged to Coccinello, even if she had broken up with him. That was why she had broken up with him at all.

So she just smiled at Adrien, even though it wasn't a genuine smile, and told him, "Don't worry about it. It's all in the past now."

They waved amicably and Marinette sat down at her next class, her chest feeling a little lighter. As she pulled out her pencils, she realized she had really meant it. She and Adrien were history, but so was any animosity she had been carrying with her. She would sort out things with Coccinello, and no matter how that went, she knew she could always continue to be Adrien's friend, without worrying about endangering her heart any longer.

Marinette clocked in the same way she did for every shift at Sloppy Joe's. She grabbed an apron, tied up her hair, and opened the door to the locker room, the steps so methodic, so typical, as to be drilled into her muscles, without needing another thought.

But as her eyes landed on her locker, she froze, her routine thrown.

Because her locker had been opened. The door was just the slightest bit ajar.

She hadn't left it like that; she specifically remembered locking it before leaving the last time she had been here. Marinette's heart pounded in her ears as she rushed to open it, checking to make sure nothing was missing, even though all she kept in it was her spare uniform in case grease spilled on the one she was wearing.

Her shirt wasn't folded the exact way that she remembered it being, but she wouldn't have noticed that if she hadn't already been ticked off by the open locker.

Someone had rummaged in her things.

Overcome by nausea, Marinette sunk to her knees on the floor, holding the shirt and cap to herself, unsure what to do. Plagg poked out of her bag and regarded her silently.

"There are only a few other girls who work here, Plagg," she whispered. Who could have been the one to do it? Marinette knew Aurore and Lila pretty well, it couldn't have been them. Maybe one of the other girls she worked with less often?

Nothing was missing or damaged, Marinette reminded herself, but it didn't change how violated she felt as she replaced her items and closed her locker door tightly. She knew she needed to get out there and begin working — she had only come in here to adjust her cap, after all — but she couldn't move from her position on the floor.

"Who would do this to me? And what were they hoping to find?" she voiced aloud, finally letting her eyes settle on Plagg.

He gave her a cheeky smile to cheer her up. "Well, whatever they were looking for, they didn't get it! So, hah!"

But Marinette just stared at the closed locker, knowing her purse was now behind it. "But what if they try again?"

The locker room door abruptly opened. Plagg darted away and Marinette, startled, stood up as fast as she could, instinctively needing to not be discovered wallowing on the grimy floor.

It was Aurore. She smiled at Marinette and turned to her own locker, opening it and putting her cap away, pulling out her stylish tote. Marinette narrowed her eyes. She knew Aurore worked for the news station, as the new weather girl. She was probably getting a handsome check from them for doing so, so she would have no reason to break into Marinette's things. Would she?

"Aurore," Marinette squeaked, before she could back out.

The girl looked behind her as she locked her own locker. "Yeah?"

"Um, someone… broke into my locker. Do you have any idea who it could have been?" Marinette felt silly as she said it. If Aurore was the guilty party, she wasn't going to confess. That would be illogical.

But Aurore frowned. "I'm not sure. When did it happen?"

"Between yesterday afternoon and right now."

"Hmm. I wasn't here at all yesterday. But you can check the schedule up on the board. That could help you narrow it down. I think you should let the boss know, because that's not okay."

Marinette nodded. "Thank you!"

Aurore smiled sadly down at Marinette. "Good luck!"

When she left, Marinette put her cap on in the mirror and went out to the floor, turning toward the time clock to scan the schedule for yesterday before she did so.

There was only one female employee scheduled for yesterday's closing shift. Marinette nearly choked as she read the name. Lila.

Marinette floated through her shift like a ghost. Lila was closing again today, so Marinette would leave before she came on. That meant she wasn't able to confront her friend. What reason would she have for rummaging in someone else's things? It spun around Marinette's brain, made her second guess herself. Was Lila really a friend if she did something like that?

In her distraction, Marinette accidentally scooped fries into an onion ring order, and nearly got her ear chewed off by her boss when the customer complained.

"Sorry," she apologized when he questioned her abstraction. "I'm just a little thrown by the break-in," she explained, including her suspicion of the identity of the culprit.

But he shot her down. "Lila called in sick last night, so she wasn't at work at all. But I'll give the security footage a look."

That made Marinette all kinds of uncomfortable. Which of her male coworkers would sneak into the ladies' locker room just to snoop in her stuff?

As Marinette hung up her apron at the end of her shift, still no closer to the answer, she was startled to see Lila walking toward her. What was she doing here so early?

"Hi, Marinette," Lila waved, smiling companionably as she always did.

Marinette fidgeted. Should she ask Lila about the break-in? But she hadn't even been here, what would she know?

She hesitated. Lila was about to enter the locker room when Marinette turned to face her. "Lila, you wouldn't happen to know about someone busting into my locker, would you?" she asked, the question tumbling out in one big breath.

Lila's eyebrows disappeared into her bangs. "Oh! Yeah!"

Marinette's eyes snapped up to look into Lila's, shocked.

Lila's expression shifted from surprise to abashment. "It was me. I left something in my locker after my shift the other day, and I came in to grab it even though I was feeling really sick. In my haze, I accidentally mistook your locker for mine, but I realized pretty fast that I'd made a mistake when I found your stuff in there instead of mine! Sorry if you were worried!" Lila's eyes grew in fear, her hands twisting together with nerves.

She seemed so shaken up that Marinette believed her, without a doubt. Her story sounded off, but Marinette didn't have a reason to suspect her of deceit. Innocent people made honest mistakes all the time. Lila would never do anything to intentionally hurt her friend.

So she forgave her. "Don't worry about it! We all get forgetful. I understand."

Lila deflated with relief. "Oh, Marinette, thank you. I got so worried that you were going to report me or something! I would hate to lose this job after I've made so many good friends here," she smiled brightly, and Marinette smiled back.

"It would take a lot more than that to upset me," Marinette responded, and Lila surprised Marinette by hugging her.

"You're the best," Lila squeezed her, and Marinette patted her friend's back in return.

They parted with a friendly wave and Marinette thanked her lucky stars that it was just a misunderstanding. She had enough on her plate already.

She left her workplace with a smile on her face, ready to head back home. As the employee exit door closed behind her, Marinette's phone rang. She dug it out of her purse and her happy mood deflated. "Maman" was the caller ID.

Last time they'd spoken, her mother had brought up Marinette's strange distance, the fact that they weren't as emotionally close as they'd been just a few months ago. She couldn't answer this call now — she wasn't ready to face another round of guilt and frustration.

Marinette had never kept a secret from her mother before, and it was eating at her. She was dying to detail every fight, every rooftop patrol, every Coccinello date, every joke with Plagg… but she couldn't. She knew that more assuredly than anything.

But still, her hand itched to press the green "accept" button, tried to convince herself that it wasn't really such a big deal. Her mom was trustworthy, she was the only person Marinette could confide in…

The zipping sound of a yo-yo grappling above her saved her from this decision. Because there was someone she needed to apologize to, someone who was her top priority at the moment.

Marinette let the call go to voicemail before ducking behind a tourist map and opening her purse. Plagg looked up at her, nodding solemnly. Marinette gave him a small nod back before calling, "Plagg, transform me!"

Kitty Noire vaulted up onto the closest building, bounding after her partner. Her heart raced as fast as she did, as if getting to him was the only thing she knew how to do.

She could see him far ahead of her, a small red dot traveling just a bit slower than she was. She picked up the pace, her need to eclipse him growing the longer she chased him.

"Cocci!" she shouted when he was in hearing range, trying to get him to stop, not wanting to startle him. He was startled anyway, turning to meet her voice, his mirror eyes so full of hope it nearly broke her heart a second time.

Coccinello stood frozen, only able to watch her close the distance between them, his mouth slightly agape. Kitty's feet touched down in front of him and she lost her breath. What was the speech she had prepared? How did it begin? What did it cover? Her thoughts swirled together, unable to sit still as the guilt overcame her once more. But she had to start somewhere.

"Can… we talk?" she began, and it wasn't eloquent or sweet, or any of the things she had originally planned it to be.

Coccinello merely shrugged, his eyes falling to his feet. He tried to hide the anguish that was written so clearly on his features, and that hurt Kitty all the more. As they hopped silently to yesterday's warehouse, intrusive thoughts burst in on Kitty Noire's concentration. What if Coccinello was too hurt to forgive her? What if he didn't understand her motives, even when she explained them? What if instead of him thinking she hated him… what if he actually hated her?

Her heart hammered in her chest and her hands shook with fear. She told herself to be strong, that this was important, that she would lose him forever if she didn't do this.

And yet she couldn't help but ask herself whether or not she had already lost him by doing this.

Their feet hit the roof at the same time, the echo fading into nothing as they stood, Kitty's back to him, just as they had yesterday. The familiarity of the scene made Kitty Noire sick, and she reeled as she wondered whether or not she could actually go through with this.

But she clenched the fists at her sides and took a breath. She would have to. She turned to face him and opened with, "Hey, I'm sorry. We should talk about this. I shouldn't have run out on you like that yesterday. I feel terribly." It was just as she had rehearsed it. Just as she had planned to say it, and that made it safer, easier somehow.

Coccinello didn't move his gaze, his mouth resting in a hard line. Kitty could tell he was mad at her; but his body language also betrayed his sorrow.

Kitty Noire wrung her hands. This was going to go downhill fast, but she had to keep going. "I need to explain myself. I realize I didn't tell you my motives for doing what I did, and you deserve better than that. I know that my feelings for you hinder me on the battlefield. And I can't risk that happening again in case another foe strikes." She took a breath, measured and deep. Waited for him to speak.

Coccinello looked up from his shoes, his lips now molded into a frown. A sad frown, a hurt frown. One that was trying its very best to keep his tears at bay.

The seconds went by, agonizingly slow. Kitty Noire opened her mouth to implore him to please say something, when he finally spoke.

"But I thought it was making us a stronger team," he breathed, so low the wind could have stolen it. But there was no wind; the air was holding its breath just as Kitty was, and so she could hear him perfectly. "Having such a strong bond, you know… I thought you felt it too. That caring for each other made us better partners." He concluded after another hesitation.

"It did!" Kitty Noire exclaimed, almost before he had finished.

Coccinello looked up at the fading light on the horizon. The days were getting shorter as autumn began to melt into winter. Kitty almost implored Coccinello to reply again, but she waited just a moment longer, and what he did say froze the blood running in her veins.

"I just never imagined that would be the reason you would stop caring for me."

Kitty Noire's brain struggled to understand this, to find the words to fix this gross error. Stop caring? Was this what Coccinello thought of her?

"What? I didn't!" she cried, and when he met her eyes in confusion, she realized she had to continue, had to explain to him that he couldn't be further from the truth, and she had to do it now, and fast, otherwise he might never believe her. "Stop caring for you, I mean. I always have, Cocci. Of course I care for you, what… why would you say something like that?" It came out jumbled, one thought ramming into the next, trying to get itself out, to be understood. Why did Kitty feel like she was running out of time?

Coccinello's hands flew up to pull on his shaggy blond hair. "I don't know!" he shouted, his tone toeing the line between irritation and anger. "Because you ended things, maybe?"

Kitty Noire's face fell, her eyes beginning to scrunch up. This was all wrong, all wrong! They were supposed to be talking like adults, reaching an understanding, agreeing mutually that it was for the best. Instead, Kitty could feel it all falling apart, as if their friendship was like sand in her hands, dissolving between her fingers with no way to stop it. She tried to use her body instead of words, reaching out her hand to touch his shoulder, to let him know she was still here, still cared for him more than anything — that's why she was doing this after all! But he flinched away, turned his body from her before her fingertips could make contact. Kitty pulled back as if she had been burned.

He crossed his arms over the railing, resting himself against it, looking out at the Parisian sunset, ignoring his partner.

Kitty Noire's stomach settled at the bottom of her shoes. "Cocci…" she breathed. "I'm not very good at this. What I'm trying to say is… that I care about you very much. I hate this, this animosity between us. I want to see you happy." She hesitated, staring at his unmoved figure.

She took a step closer, resting her palm on his shoulder blade, testing to see if he would shake her off. He stiffened but allowed her to remain there. Him letting her in just that small bit gave her the courage to continue. She knew what she had to say; she had known it for a long time now. It was the reason for her paralyzing fear, her desperate need to keep him safe. She took a steadying breath. "Just because I ended things doesn't mean…" she trailed off, trying to see into his face from where she stood. His back quivered beneath her and she forced herself to continue. He had to know, no matter how things went. He needed to know. "It doesn't mean I don't love you."

She dropped her hand from his shoulder blade, her gaze falling to her feet, to the heels of his. There. It was said. No matter what came next, at least he knew that.

Coccinello's head turned to look over his shoulder at her. "It doesn't?" he echoed in disbelief.

Kitty's eyes snapped up to meet his, her head shaking vigorously. "Of course not!" she tried to exclaim, but the words got choked in her throat, her eyes beginning to well up.

Coccinello suddenly turned his whole body to face hers, his arms reaching out beneath hers to pull her closer to him, his hands holding her elbows. Kitty gazed up into his mirror eyes, dazed at this sudden change.

His eyes flicked back and forth, desperately searching her own, trying to find where it was that he had gone wrong. "Then why are you trying to push us apart?" he asked, his voice cracking with grief.

Kitty Noire buried her face in Coccinello's chest, her anguish overwhelming her, the dam behind her eyes breaking, letting loose the tears she'd wanted to cry all day. "I'm not!" she protested. "Well, I am," she amended, shaking her head at her own folly, "but I don't know what else to do! I've seen you dead in my dreams, Coccinello! They've taken you from me, and I'm powerless to stop them! I won't let them use our love against us…" she whimpered through her tears. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of it," she added in a whisper.

Coccinello sighed, his eyebrows pulling together in a final understanding of her motives, agonized that he could have thought anything less of her. Kitty Noire's loud sobs racked her body against his, and as Coccinello tightened his arms around her, holding her close, she didn't see the silent tears spill over and roll down his own cheeks. They fell into her midnight hair, and Coccinello brought a hand up to brush them away, to pet her head comfortingly, and bent to press a wet kiss to the top of her crown.

They held one another until the sun had long departed from the Parisian sky, until Kitty Noire's sobs had faded into even breaths, until Coccinello rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek, entreating her to finally look up at him.

When she did, she saw the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Why didn't you just tell me that before? If I don't know what you're thinking, I can't help us try and resolve it." He said it so gently, and so sweetly, that Kitty was swallowed up in her relief.

All that echoed in her head was the joyous proclamation that he did not hate her, that he didn't think she hated him, either; that she hadn't lost him to her own fear, and that no matter the technicalities, he was hers. He wanted to help her, to try and fix things. It was like music.

And so, without thinking of the repercussions, Kitty Noire did the one thing she promised herself she wouldn't do tonight.

She put her hands on either side of Coccinello's face, leaned in, and kissed him.

Coccinello responded to her instantly, holding her ever closer, and so Kitty lost herself in kissing him, the time standing still around her as she threaded her fingers in his lovely blond mop. Or perhaps time raced, folding in on itself, trapping them in a moment that was nothing but sensation.

When the moment came to an end, and Kitty Noire pulled away to look back into her love's sky blue eyes, she was surprised to see a playful smile dancing beneath them.

Coccinello caressed her cheek with his thumb, then bent his head so that his lips grazed her ear, and as Kitty Noire's eyelids fluttered in delight, he whispered, low and gravelly, "In case it wasn't already clear, I love you, too, Kitty Cat."