Marinette was reading in her bed, it was late at night. The wind sighed outside her window, she wanted to do the same too.
Naturally, her parents were sleeping at this hour, but she…
No.
Their was a tenseness to her muscles that makes her more like a mannequin on the soft mattress than a girl of flesh and bone. She want so much to melt onto the soft duvet, wrapped in eider-down, and drift into the world of dreams. Yet her brain is a violent whirl of stupidity, trying to organize the chaos that has struck in her life.
When she turned her page, a short, sharp quiver was heard beside her bed.
It was her cell phone.
She just continued to read the following chapter. She was certain it was another kind of blog of Alya about the superheroes and the investigations she does, non-stop. Sometimes she could lose her temper when it comes down to her best friend, Alya.
She was always a listener without judgement and never commented until she'd spun her heart out. Then she would put down her glasses, look her straight in the eye and give her advice like the sister she never had. Marinette knew she never told a soul even a hint of what they discussed, she was a hole for gossip, a true friend, one of a kind. She had a kind of brutal honesty that test most friendship, but she appreciated it.
But,…
Maybe not enough to sustain her problems. Every now and then, she wishes for her friend to stop doing these investigations or blogs. It can really put her life in danger and herself too if she did find out her identity.
Silence swells in her room to fill the space available.
Or maybe, there really was a problem or emergency. The panicked Marinette rushed to get her cell phone on the nearby nightstand. When she looked on it, there was nothing about any dilemmas or troubles to be found, not even any of her friends messages.
Only one unknown message.
So she clicked on the message opener and took in the two words at a glance.
Hello, there.
She turned to her book and dwell in the pages, not bothered by the message. The only thing that can save her from the demons of her tomorrow is sleep. A rested mind will have the sharpness to make the kind of decisions that could be the difference between saving Paris and being expelled from school, by punching Chloe so hard in the face.
She traced her fingers on the crisp and clean not a mark on its almost sparkling surface of the paper. Brand new edges so straight and sharp even a sword could not be compared to its glistening beauty.
The triller of the extension phone went off like an annoyed rattlesnake. She glanced furiously at the screen.
This is the irresistible Chat Noir you're speaking with.
A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of her right eye, her mouth formed a rigid grimace. With fingers gripping tightly her cellphone.
She wrote back. Chat Noir, calling me! Is there something you need? Do I need to help?
When it was called for she could switch her expression of the unsure, stuttering Dupain-Cheng to the self-reliant, convergent Ladybug. Day to night. She was used to it by now.
You've cat to be kitten me right now. Of course not! just making sure if everything goes paw-sitively. Followed with a smiling face.
Later that day, an akuma attack happened and Chat Noir saved the flustered Marinette from the akumatised villain, a grin was plastered on his face, wide and open. But of course she transformed right after that in to her usually suit after he left to fight the villain.
She sighed heavily and texted him back. You really are amazing, Chat Noir! Thank you, thank you for saving me back there!
It could have been claw-ful without me, but thank-furry I had my Cat-aclysm ready! The text followed with two smilies.
She slammed her head in her pillow, she was so done with Chat Noir at times, you thought his attacks were safe from his puns too? No, they're not. Nothing is safe from the puns of Chat.
Nothing.
You should have watched me-ow, I was so paw-some. But enough about me, how are you feline-ing?
The question was not something Marinette had been expecting and instantly her mind gave her every reason why she didn't want to talk with him. It was clearly he never thought before he acted or spoke, he never stopped to ask himself if his response was the right one, or merely the first knee-jerk reaction that sprung to mind.
She wrote back. Awesome, because of you! I wish you a good night!
Her eyes were sore, one more pun and she thought she'd scream. What she really needed to survive tomorrow is sleep, at least six hours would be nice. But for that to happen she will have to read all the pages out before midnight and not even the irksome, uproarious chattering of Chat Noir can do that.
You too, purincess. And you know whenever you feel bad. Her eyes shot open by the next words. Try thinking of me, how good looking I am. How talented I am.
How arrogant.
The message vanished.
It was gone for a while, far longer than it should have taken to write the few words that appeared on the screen when it returned.
There was a queer interval of silence. She sat knee deep in silence. She doesn't know why she felt her heart began to beat harder and faster or her adrenaline level rising. The fear travelled in her veins but never made it to her facial muscles or skin. Her complexion remained pale and matt, her eyes looking steady on her screen without blinking.
Marinette was wishing she did not send that message. she really didn't mean it. She wasn't stupid, it just slipped. Maybe he-
Her eyes shot open, when she heard a sharp trill.
A new message appeared.