It wasn't a crush or at least, Chloe wouldn't tell anyone about it, so it couldn't be a crush. Though, that wouldn't erase her feelings and neither would pretending that her feelings were everything that they were before this. A hidden or secret crush was not really something other than a crush.
Chloe wasn't particularly sure that he'd ever like her back, and really, neither was she sure that she deserved him anyway. She had a high self esteem; you could ask anyone. Just, she'd been crumbled before waiting to become Queen Bee all over again, and she'd often been the woman overlooked for a date, though that didn't mean that people didn't have crushes on her either. Kim had liked her once.
Chloe sighed, staring at a small comic book that lay nearly splattered against her desk. It looked thin from her angle, half-burying herself against her bed. It was faint, if you counted all of the things in her room. Yet, the words never made her pick it up. Chloe was not a reader, nor was she an art admirer, and she wouldn't claim nerd status, the status that Adrien proudly held. In many ways, she'd rather be something fitting a socialite, and in many other ways, she'd rather not be.
Chloe was not going to binge read comics, flipping through the stories, entranced. It was just that one comic in her room, with that one story, with those particular drawings, and by those particular people. She didn't buy it for Ladybug, for once. That had faded when disappointment crushed her beneath it's heavy, sturdy weight. Chloe was not going to be an admiring fan, but she wouldn't become nearly a criminal in the way that Lila had. She wasn't going to broadcast a hatred for Ladybug or live in a kind of hate. Sure, she was unhappy, and sure, she kind of did want to help Hawkmoth out sometimes, but she wouldn't hate her. It was the principle of it, anyway.
Yet, sitting innocently on the desk in her room was a comic, and it talked of Ladybug, Cat Noir, and the Evillustrator among others. It was a simple thing, something to hold on to, and to read when you craved adventure or romance. Chloe sighed, wondering why instead of missing Queen Bee in this moment, she was thinking almost nostalgically about the past. Evillustrator was a sore subject for her now; it never used to be.
Chloe had never really regretted getting someone Akumatized in the way that others might. She hadn't been battered with guilt like Ladybug had been so many times before, nor did she feel this steady urge to re-Akumatize people, though sometimes it was easier to claim 'Alpha' status and superiority for being Queen Bee and get someone re-Akumatized, partly in hope that she'll be called upon to save the day.
Just, Evillustrator was different. He hadn't always been. The comic did not erupt a kind of empathy or rather sympathy in her chest for the ex-Akuma, but she'd slowly felt this guilt pile up when everything else came tumbling in. Yes, Chloe had feelings that she hadn't neccessarily begged for.
She was a girl that wished that it was easier to be in love with her childhood best friend, to latch on, and never really let go. It wasn't. Or, at least in relation to crushes, it wasn't easy at all. It was a time of rising and falling feelings, much like each steady breath that left her lungs. She brushed blonde hair aside and closed her eyes, trying hard not to picture her crush.
Yet, that book sat on her desk as if shouting to the world who she had fallen in love with. Queen Bee with an Ex-Akuma, or an Ex-Hero with an Ex-Akuma? Rather, Chloe had started to wonder if he would have been the most heroic out of the two of them. Yet, she didn't really want to trade her Miraculous for the world over. It gave a sort of freedom and excitement that one could easily become addicted to.
Chloe ran a tentative hand across the cover, giving up. It was a simple design, but it boldly proclaimed the particular boy that she was thinking of. The Evillustrator lined the cover, standing tall, handsome, and strong. She wasn't going to pretend that she didn't find her classmate attractive, but she also wasn't going to tell anyone that she could get lost in his green eyes, that she did want to run her fingers through his long, red hair, that she wondered if it was okay to fall in love with an artist, when she never really understood art.
Yes, she'd fallen in love with a boy that she'd once bullied, but she had no ready made solution, not even another simple fix. It just was what it was. She'd discovered the hero in him, the non-Miraculous holding classmate that circumstance forced her to admire from afar.
She felt that sad tugging in her chest, and just wished that he'd look at her the way that his drawings of his Akumatized self looked at Ladybug. It was probably too much to ask for, but she'd hold on to that hope, regardless.