Chapter Summary: It's been a few months since they officially met on the balcony that summer night, and Chat was reluctant to celebrate Christmas together, given his dislike of the holiday, but Marinette was just so excited, how could he let her down? Especially after all the encouragement and support she'd given him, he hoped his gift would adequately convey his thankfulness... Little did he know that Marinette had a few feelings of her own to convey...
Author's Note: It's a little late, but here's a special Christmas bonus chapter as a little gift for all your support of this fic! I'd like to thank everyone who appreciated, shared, and left feedback on this fanfic. It's your support that makes the countless hours researching, creating, and editing worth it! Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and happy reading!
Fingers trembling ever so slightly as he gripped the delicately wrapped package, Chat Noir steadied his breathing to calm himself. Indeed, his breathing had been increasing at such a rapid rate as he leapt through the city, the residents may have mistaken him for Santa's reindeer as he left a trail of frozen breaths in his wake. Doubts swirled and his stomach churned as each leap brought him closer to the reality he had rehearsed countless times before setting out. If all went well, then by the end of the night, Marinette would be in possession of a carefully selected Christmas present, and totally not be weirded out at all by it and completely shut down their budding friendship.
As the bakery rooftop came into view, however, his nerves finally won the battle and he came to an abrupt halt. What had he been thinking? This holiday already put him on edge, and with so much at stake, why had he ever agreed to come tonight? There was no way this could work. Surely this Christmas would be no different than the last even though he was spending it with Marinette instead of his father. Surely she would wind up hating the gift and questioning why she had ever given him a chance. Goodness knows he had never been a good gift-giver. His mind recalled quite easily how his father reacted coldly to each and every gift Adrien had given throughout the years, no matter how meticulously selected, painstakingly hand-crafted, or heartfelt. Granted, his father was a difficult man to please, but even so, practice made perfect and without any feedback or direction on his presents, he couldn't hone the skill throughout the years.
'Don't panic, Marinette's different.' He consoled himself, trying to still the tremor in his fingers, though he wasn't sure if the cause was his nerves or the frigid air. A few more deep breaths served to bring his thoughts into perspective, queueing up memories to prove his rebuttal that Marinette was indeed a special case. Maybe it was the memory of their first official meeting or a gust of wind, but his cat nose swore it smelled the faint traces of macaroons wafting from the bakery he now overlooked.
It had been much warmer that night as summer drew to a close, the residual heat from the setting August sun making his black suit a touch uncomfortable, but there were flowers that needed his attention. It may have been odd for one of Paris' super heroes to be prioritizing a mission of petal preservation, but the summer had been a dry one with record-breaking temperatures.
The drought had made keeping the flowers on Marinette's balcony hydrated a difficult mission, but he'd come this far and wasn't about to let the blooms die prematurely if he could help it. Besides, this mission was one of gratitude, a small way to say 'thank you' for the hand-knit, baby-blue scarf she had given him for his birthday last year. That is, the scarf she'd gotten Adrien.
He hadn't planned on making flower care a means of gratitude, but when he had seen the need, he just felt that it was the right thing to do. After awhile, the balcony became a place where he could relax, be himself, and just… breathe. Living in his father's house had often felt oppressive, but in the aftermath of finding out about the scarf, the air-conditioned mansion felt more suffocating with its apathetic atmosphere than the balcony did in the heat of mid-summer's day, in an all-black leather bodysuit to boot.
His haven had but one catch - Marinette didn't know he had found solace there. The only way he could escape his house was as Chat Noir, so the return favor would be perceived as an unrelated favor from someone else should she ever catch him, so he had effectively protected himself from a similar rejection to those he always got from his father and Ladybug. He had wondered many a time how he would talk himself out of the situation if he was ever caught, preferably in a way that didn't paint him as an absolute creeper. So far, he'd never had to test one out. Between his heightened cat senses and a tendency to be overly cautious, he'd thus far avoided being found out.
It wasn't that he was afraid of Marinette or anything, on the contrary, he'd grown quite attached to the dear girl as he got to know her better, through more frequent conversations at school and what he happened to overhear as he tended her balcony and she talked with Alya or her pen-pal Tikki. Rather, he didn't want to lose this, his patch of heaven amidst his chaotic life. Here he thrived and here he entertained thoughts of one day gradually pushing his luck and initiating face-to-face contact with the girl who reminded him that there was still some good in the world. So he told himself that once he cooked up a good reason for being here and a conversation starter, he'd take the plunge. He told himself that, many a time… but he knew it'd never come to pass. What could he possibly have to offer Marinette when he'd already failed his own parents and his partner, Ladybug? He would without a doubt be rejected, forbidden to come back.
Imagine his surprise when he found a note from her that night, thanking him for the care he'd invested in her balcony. To top it all off, she'd left him a box of macaroons from the bakery below, and he'd been so overjoyed by this discovery that he didn't notice the sound of the roof hatch opening.
"Good evening, Chat!" She chirped with just a hint of hesitancy in her voice. Yelping in surprise as he turned to address her, Chat nearly dropped his newly acquired sweets at her feet. There she stood, Marinette, his bluebell-eyed and cheery classmate, his scarf and macaroon beneficiary.
"H-hi!" Chat barely managed to reply, voice breathy and catching in his suddenly too-dry throat. His heart was pounding far too fast as he contemplated his options, for though he had long mulled over the possibilities of how their first balcony encounter may play out, his mind was now drawing a blank and it was a miracle that he had managed to spit out any words at all.
Sensing the awkward tension, Marinette's gaze dropped to the floor and she absently played with a lock of her hair. "I see you found the macaroons."
"Y-yeah." Chat nodded dumbly, mentally kicking himself for only managing another single-syllable reply.
The two stood there a moment longer, though it felt like decades. The lump in Chat 's throat finally dissolved and he sputtered in one very rushed and nerve-wracking sentence, "I'm sorry I didn't ask for permission to be here or touch your stuff or talk to your flowers - I mean, eh-heh…?" Flashing a sheepish grin, Chat mentally reprimanded himself, 'Great, way to go, Chat Noir… just confirm what an absolute loser you are.'
To his great shock and pleasure, she didn't shrink away or start beating him with the water pitcher to chase him off, but instead, she broke out into a mirthful and sincere giggle - the kind one makes when truly enjoying the company of friends. The sound calmed his spirit and eased his mind, and he couldn't help but smile, just a little, in relief.
"You know," she began, visibly relaxing as she continued, "my dad also talks to flowers; says it helps him empty his mind and organize his thoughts."
It was like a switch tripped in Chat's mind. Her laughter and calm demeanor were all it took for him to lower his guard and release the tension in his body. "He's right, you know," Chat replied, placing the bakery box down on the table so he could move about freely, "you should try it sometime!"
Noting his change in disposition, Marinette further invited him to relax by striding up to one of the chairs by the table and taking a seat, looking up at him expectantly to follow suit. "I have, actually, but I think I prefer company that can hold up their end of the conversation."
Taking the seat across from her, the dark hero regained a little of his anxiety and started nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he cast about for a suitable reply. Her declaration left him a large responsibility, but he doubted he would be able to entertain her better than a flower. After all, despite his best efforts, he had failed to do so for his parents and for Ladybug. Really the only reason he found himself talking to flowers all the time was because he was able to be himself without fear of being judged by a human being - the very reason Marinette didn't like to talk to flowers was the sole reason he did.
Perhaps she read his mind, for her next words reassured him, "Which is why I wanted to put the offer on the table." At this, she held her hands out over the table they were sitting at, as though she were literally placing something tangible there - a poor attempt at a physical pun, but given his track record in the field of punnery, he appreciated the attempt. "I couldn't help but overhear sometimes when you talked to the flowers when you thought I was asleep, and it sounds like you could use a friend to listen to your troubles. I know it's forward of me, but I just wanted to let you know that if you'd like to talk, I'm willing to listen, though you're still welcome to use the flowers if you prefer their audience."
Chat's heart seemed to skip a beat - or was time standing still? No one had offered such a thing to him before. It was more than his little heart could bear. A moment ago he thought he couldn't get any more euphoric, just by receiving a gift of food, but now, he was offered what looked like a gift a friendship. Perhaps she didn't know what was at stake, what a terrible friend he was. He was constantly unable to express successfully how he felt about people since his advances were always ignored. No doubt it would only be a matter of time before Marinette regretted her offer.
Taking his silence to be a rejection, Marinette stood abruptly and announced, "You don't have to decide right now or anything, I'll just bid you goodnight and let you enjoy your snack." Her words were soft, broken even, like the idea of him sparing her the grief of his presence would actually grieve her more. Before he could think it through, his hand had acted of its own accord and had grasped her wrist to halt her in her steps. She looked a little surprised at first, but then she flashed him that tender smile he was quickly coming to love and inquired at hardly more than a whisper's volume, "Yes?"
He hadn't thought this far ahead. Though to be fair, he hadn't thought at all, his body had acted solely of its own accord, like it had a desperate need for her presence and its healing effects. At that moment, his head caught up with what his body was doing, and it was like a fog was lifted. Basking in a newfound peace, he was confidently able to request that she join him in enjoying the sweets she had given him. It had been a little slow-going at first, but they ended up talking half the night away like they had always been the best of chums.
Marinette hummed along to the Christmas music she had playing in the background as she resisted the temptation to take a sip of the chocolat chaud beside her whose sweet aroma was slowly but surely saturating the room. She couldn't afford to free her hands from their current task, which was to put the finishing touches on Chat Noir 's Christmas present. She hadn't meant to procrastinate, but she had been unbelievably busy the past two days between her own family's Christmas celebration, and helping her parents down in the bakery as they helped other Parisian families' celebrations with cookies, candied chestnuts, buche de noels, and other Christmas favorites. She had made plans to meet up with Chat Noir at their usual spot on the balcony late Christmas night after the rest of the city had gone to bed, exhausted from the extensive Christmas festivities over the last forty-eight hours. They hadn't exactly nailed down a specific time - they never did - but she was hoping tonight would be one of the later nights so she could finish the project. So far luck had been in her favor and all she had left to do now was wait a bit for the finishing touches to set then wrap it all up in a nice box with a ribbon.
Taking a quick break to celebrate the completion of the project, Marinette finally allowed herself to sip the chocolat chaud her mother had brought up a few minutes prior along with a plate of macaroons - a fairly common practice whenever her mother saw the light from Marinette's room on this late at night. The girl was notorious for burning the midnight oil whenever a new project caught her fancy, and her mother had always been supportive and sought to make sure her daughter didn't forget nutrition by bringing up snacks and beverages. Ever since the end of summer, Marinette had occasionally dared to ask for seconds on the nights she knew Chat Noir would be coming to visit, and though Sabine had seemed a little skeptical at first, she'd since grown accustomed to it and started bringing double portions every time, probably figuring that Marinette was just going through a growth spurt. Even though Chat didn't come around every night, the snacks never went to waste, as he was more than happy to gobble up the leftovers whenever he did finally come around. As such, Sabine had left a carafe of the chocolate beverage with enough for two more servings.
Admiring her work, the raven-haired teen smiled at the irony. If you had told her six months ago that she would be making a gift to give to Chat Noir as Marinette, she would not have believed you.
It had truly been a twist of fate that led her to take a detour that night. Usually she would've headed straight home after an evening akuma attack, but it had just so happened that when the trouble struck, she had been en route to Alya's house to pick up some things she'd forgotten there the day before. Since her parents were already accustomed to the girls getting side tracked and talking for hours, she didn't think she would be missed if she still ran her original errand, despite the fact that this particular villain had taken a longer-than-usual amount of time to defeat. The summer sky had already blackened by the time she left Alya's, so Marinette decided to take the easy way home - as Ladybug. Were it not for her heightened instincts in that form, she may never have seen the cat ears silhouetted by the dim light of her balcony lights. She halted the moment she saw him - Chat Noir - and ducked behind a chimney on a nearby rooftop. What was he doing at her house? Had he figured out her secret identity? Trying not to panic, Ladybug released her form so she could get a second opinion from her confidant.
"Tikki, what should I do!? It looks like Chat came to confront me! I was so careful; I don't know how this could have happened!" Marinette despaired, biting her nails.
"Shhh, careful, Marinette. With his cat kwami, Chat Noir has excellent hearing! I wouldn't jump to the worst conclusion just yet though, it could just be a simple coincidence!"
"How am I supposed to find out?"
"Well I think for now you should return home as Marinette and stay downstairs with your parents for awhile while I sneak upstairs and keep an eye on him. Once he leaves, I'll give the all clear."
By the end of the night, Marinette's parents were quite impressed with her dedication, for she refused to go to bed for hours while she labored away on a sewing project. If only they realized that her nerves and dedication had less to do with artistry than it did with her preoccupation with a certain boy.
Perhaps what was more disconcerting than how long Chat Noir had lingered on her roof that night was how often he seemed to do it. Once Tikki began her stake outs, it became obvious that the night they found him on her balcony was not a coincidence. In a week's time, he had stopped by three times, varying in duration from ten minutes to two hours.
"He's just waiting to ambush me, I know it!" Marinette cried after Tikki sounded the 'all clear' on the third night Chat visited.
"I don't think that's the case, actually," TIkki explained, "My hearing isn't as sharp as a cat kwami's, but I was able to pick out some things. He talks pretty often when he's up there, though quite softly."
"Who else did he bring!?" the teenager demanded, eyes wide with apprehension. This stuff was getting way too creepy for her liking, and though she had faith that she could handle herself if it came down to a battle, it was no less alarming that the intruders were constantly making contact right above her bed.
"I'm not sure, but I think you should calm down, Marinette. It may just be that this location is a convenient rendezvous spot for whoever he is meeting, if he is meeting anyone at all."
"I'm not sure which I'd prefer; Chat unluckily choosing my balcony for secret meetings or Chat talking to himself like a crazy person on my balcony."
"This is just a theory, but, based on the snippets I've heard, he may actually be talking to your flowers…"
An awkward pause transpired as Marinette processed Tikki's theory. Finally she concluded, "...I don't see how that's any better. I mean, sure, lots of people talk to their flowers, my dad is one of them. But it doesn't take hours and it's not like he ever talks to someone else's flowers."
"You have a valid point," Tikki agreed, but always one to look on the bright side of things, she suggested, "Perhaps we should give him the benefit of a doubt and set up some more precise surveillance to get a better understanding to be sure."
"I don't think I can afford to wait; how do you expect me to sleep with a potential threat above my bunk each night?"
And so they devised a plan to confront the suspected flower whisperer. Each night they'd wait, presence concealed but with a good vantage point, for the black cat to arrive. They'd agreed to wait as Ladybug, so as to be ready to pursue if he decided to flee on contact, and also so she could pull the leader card and forbid him to come to the same balcony so often. After all, since 'Ladybug' had tracked him to this address as a regular stopping point, so could the enemy.
The night he showed up, Ladybug slowly and silently approached - if he bolted, she didn't want him to get too much of a head start, so caution was a necessity. A strange thing happened when she came within earshot. A sound she hadn't expected to hear halted her in her steps. Was Chat Noir actually... crying? Unsure what to do at this point, all Ladybug could do was stand still as the minutes dragged on, the unmistakable sounds of a watering can co-mingling with the sound of barely audible sniffles.
The sudden voice made her jump, thinking she'd been discovered, but all Chat said was, "Well it looks like Marinette is away for the night, so I guess I can actually talk to you blossoms tonight. Fair deal for the both of us, right? You guys get your carbon dioxide and I get some baggage off my chest."
Ladybug strained to keep her breathing even and undetectable as her mind raced a mile a minute. He knew this rooftop belonged to her - that is, at least he knew it belonged to Marinette. He was purposely tending her garden. Didn't he think she'd notice? Why was he being so secretive about it? Why was he targeting HER garden out of all the rooftop gardens in Paris?
"You know you're lucky, being flowers. You don't have to worry about relationships at all. Don't need to worry about keeping a straight face, pretending everything is fine when it's the furthest thing from."
Taken aback by his declaration, Ladybug tried to recall if she'd noticed any sort of change in Chat's behavior, and couldn't think of any red flags. To be fair though, when one is trying to capture akuma, casual conversation and demeanor interpretation isn't exactly a priority. Of course, that had never really stopped Chat; he managed to keep up a steady stream of quips and puns nearly every mission. Since that didn't seem to change, perhaps this was the norm? What if his cheery disposition had always been a mask?
"You know my father doesn't even look at me when we're in the same room anymore? Apparently my 'outbursts' threaten my ability to perform well for his company... "
Ladybug was beginning to feel breathless, and she doubted it was solely from the reduced amount of oxygen she was getting by slowing her breathing. It had just never occurred to her that Chat Noir was dealing with such emotional issues behind the scenes.
At that moment, she knew she couldn't carry her original objective out. Her heart was being tugged, for she couldn't imagine a life where her own father barely acknowledged her... to not get a hug and kiss goodnight, to not be given home-baked goodies 'just because', to not hear 'I love you' in a gruff but tender voice… The very thought left her feeling like her stomach was in knots and her eyes felt wet with the threat of tears. She realized that she had stumbled upon a very intimate and vulnerable moment and that she must retreat.
After that night, Marinette and Tikki had talked at length about what to do about their stray cat problem - that is, the fact that Chat Noir, for whatever reason, had chosen Marinette's balcony as his getaway from the problems at home.
"What I just don't get, Tikki, is what made him choose MY balcony? He knows my name, somehow, but doesn't approach me. No matter what his personal problems are, you gotta admit that that's a little weird." Marinette argued one night.
"Maybe you did him a kindness once?" Tikki speculated, "It's not too uncommon for victims of neglect to naturally be drawn to those who have shown them even a small amount of attention and grace."
"But what if he really has found out my secret identity or something like that?"
"Well why don't you ask him the reason then?" Tikki asked point blank. The idea had seemed ridiculous to Marinette at the time, but after a while was seeming to be the right course of action. They came up with a plan to leave him a bakery gift that would serve as both gratitude and a means of distraction so that Marinette could approach him without him bolting.
The night she confronted him - as Marinette, of course - was one of the most nerve-wracking events of her entire life, but as the evening wore on, the awkwardness had melted away and a comfortable, almost familiar feeling had set in. When Chat had announced that he should take his leave for the night, Marinette was surprised how much time had passed. If she had realized, she would've asked that gnawing question much sooner.
Mustering up her courage, Marinette called, "Please wait!" Chat awkwardly turned at this, for he had been coiled up, about to launch himself off the balcony and into the night. Without skipping a beat, for she was worried enough as it was that all the progress she made that night getting Chat to open up would be lost if she pressed her luck, but nonetheless needing to know, Marinette nervously queried, "U-um, I just wanted to know, if you're okay with me knowing, that is, I-I p-perfectly understand if you don't… uh… that is… Why did you start taking care of my balcony in the first place?" Marinette felt her cheeks heat at this, but wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she felt like she had asked a deeply personal question? Or because she was worried sick that she may have just jeopardized all the progress she'd made that night getting Chat to open up to her? Maybe both? Yeah… both seemed right. As an afterthought, she figured she should also be worried that his answer would include that he'd discovered her dual identity, but for some reason, that didn't seem to matter as much as it had before. Why was she more worried about losing this new alliance than she was about protecting her Ladybug identity?
She would never forget the response he gave, or the look on his face when he said it. On his face was written the most forlorn smile she'd ever seen and a sort of hopeful longing was in his eyes as he replied, "Because you once showed me, at a time in my life when I'd fallen into despair, that there is still light in the world. It was the greatest gift I've ever gotten, so I wanted to repay you somehow." She was left in stunned silence, and by the time she'd regained her composure, Chat's silhouette was already indistinguishable from the skyline.
Ladybug never looked the same way at Chat again, and as the days turned to weeks and the weeks to months, she realized that something was changing in him. He had become more relaxed somehow, and yet more distant. It was only during her times as Marinette, when Chat visited the balcony, were the layers peeled back. It had been a gradual process, and understandably so, considering the hurt he'd experienced. There were also barriers that couldn't be crossed, as he was adamant that he had to keep his promise to his lady - that is, Ladybug - to not divulge too many details in order to be sure his secret identity wasn't discovered. She'd beamed in pride at this, since even though he hadn't discovered the correlation between Marinette and Ladybug, he was careful to keep his word to Ladybug when she supposedly wasn't looking.
Marinette's recollections hopped and skipped through some more of her favorite balcony meetings with Chat Noir as she started to wrap the Christmas present she would give to Chat tonight. There was a mix of happy times and sad times, silly times and serious times, and even times when all they did was coexist in silence. It was a strange dynamic, but she enjoyed those times where she'd just curl up with a book and a teacup while Chat wordlessly tended to the garden or likewise occupied himself with a book Marinette recommended. They didn't happen often, as most times they were too excited to catch each other up on what had transpired since the last time they met - like the time Marinette was bursting at the seams to recount how she'd accidentally used cornstarch instead of baking powder in a bread recipe and ended up with a dense, inedible brick - but when they did, it was usually because Chat wasn't ready to talk about whatever was bothering him, but wanted the comfort of a friend in the interim.
Marinette felt truly blessed to be chosen for such a duty as she'd become quite attached to her kitty through these times, like she was still able to watch over him not just when they were on the field as Ladybug and Chat Noir, but also when he was at his weakest. It seemed like these instances were growing further and further apart in recent weeks, like perhaps their meetings also acted like a healing balm for the soul, and Marinette found herself often beaming with pride that her Chaton had strengthened and matured such that he was better able to handle the stress of his civilian life.
Something else had been stirring inside her as well, something beyond endearment and pride. She had told herself early on that it was just the compassionate, nurturing side of herself that just couldn't turn away someone in need, especially a friend, but as she'd lovingly labored over this Christmas gift, she was forced to confront an uncomfortable feeling she'd been trying to repress. It was a fluttering or twisting feeling in her stomach, a tickle on the neck, a dancing of her heart whenever she found herself absently dwelling on her feline companion that contradicted all the times she told herself she was just helping out a 'friend'.
Feeling that familiar warmth flood her face, as it did every time she came uncomfortably close to facing her feelings, she quickly tied the ribbon on the package and stood to clear her mind, glancing at the clock as she did so. Eyes widening when she saw just how late it had gotten, she hurriedly placed the package on her bed, grabbed her coat, then carefully climbed the ladder with the tray of macaroons and chocolat chaud in hand and made her way onto the balcony.
Chat had not arrived yet, and Marinette immediately began to fear the worst. He'd never shown up this late before.
Still frozen in place, doubting himself in every possible way, Chat tried to relax his grip on the gift he'd so carefully wrapped for Marinette. It had been her idea to have their own little Christmas celebration, and he'd nearly said 'no', for he didn't care much for the holiday after his mom had left… But she'd seemed so excited about it, he found himself nodding dumbly before he could think better of it, to think of the consequences. He struggled so much since then trying to find a perfect gift, and even after settling on this one, he knew it was sure to fail, because every gift he'd ever given in his life seemed to fail. Sure, his mother had seemed genuinely pleased with some of his gifts, but it had obviously been a show for his benefit, for what mother would leave their child if they had actually enjoyed their company and their gifts? His father was of course self explanatory - no gift of Adrien's had ever been received well by his father, and was likely considered more of a nuisance than anything else. Then there was Ladybug… He had fallen for her the first time she declared that evil would not triumph, but even after his countless attempts to please her, she would always brush him off and insist on keeping it professional. They'd always made a great team, but he'd come to realize that they were just that: a crime fighting team. There was no room for romance or sentiment.
This was why he was so nervous. He'd come to cherish his friendship with Marinette so much, for she was the only one in his life that had fully accepted him, had been there for him when he needed it, and had always encouraged him to grow. She made him a better person… but what could he possibly offer her? He wrestled with himself for what felt like hours, not wanting to go through with what he was now certain was an inferior gift, but also not wanting to let her down by not showing up after he had agreed to come tonight.
When he saw her familiar silhouette emerge from the hatch, however, he knew he couldn't just turn back. She was waiting for him. She was the only person who ever waited for him; how could he let her down?
Gathering his courage with a deep breath, Chat took his final leaps that landed him on the balcony's guardrail. "Good evening, purr-incess", he greeted, hoping to mask his insecurity by resorting to tactics of punnery, the language of his comfort zone.
He still got weak in the knees every time she beamed at him like that, so as she greeted him with, "Oh good, you're here! I was beginning to worry!", he descended onto more level footing to steady himself.
She didn't have to tell him about the macaroons she'd laid out on the table; he had already caught wind of them with his sensitive feline nose and was already fighting the urge to drool at the prospect. It was a good thing she lived a decent distance from his house; were it not for the exercise of the commute, the sweets he couldn't help but indulge himself in would no doubt threaten his model figure. Aside from the macaroons, there was something else she had mentioned, something he didn't recognize. He was used to this sort of scenario though, living such a sheltered life.
"What did you say this was again?" He asked as he accepted the offered teacup, full of a steaming thick liquid that smelled of chocolate. Was it simply molten chocolate? It certainly looked viscous enough to be.
Marinette seemed truly shocked by this and exclaimed, "You've never had chocolat chaud before!? It's a Christmas tradition in my family, and also several other families, like my friends Alya and Nino. We used to have competitions to see who could drink the most before we had to take a sip of water!"
Chat couldn't help but smile at this. He couldn't admit to Marinette that he knew them, but he could definitely picture Alya and Nino getting into a ridiculous battle of wills like that. Something told him Alya had probably been the victor more often than not. His smile faltered when his thoughts shifted to his own lack of Christmas traditions. Well, at least lack of Christmas FOOD traditions. Being in the fashion industry, diets in the Agreste household had always been strict, so whenever he had a treat, it was always a rare and special one. He'd had more sweets from Marinette's balcony in a month than he'd had from the Agreste household in his entire life. Treats aside, Christmas left a sour taste in his mouth ever since his mother left. What point was there to holiday festivities if there was no one to share it with? 'But this year you're sharing it with Marinette…' he reminded himself, still anxious about the ultimate outcome of the evening, but hopeful that it couldn't be any worse than last year - the year that he spent two nights wandering about the city, envious of everyone's cheer while his father stayed holed up in his office, not even caring that his son was distraught over his first Christmas without his mother.
Noticing that Marinette's eyes were brimming with concern as she searched his own, for she had probably sensed his change in demeanor, Chat flashed her an attempt at his usual winning smile, but he knew it turned out looking more like a grimace, for the concern on her face only grew. With a sigh, he owned up to the truth, "It's just… I've come to dislike Christmas since it's supposed to be when you're celebrating with your family, but ever since my mom left…" He tried to finish the sentence, but the words caught in his throat as it abruptly went dry and he felt the sudden urge to cry. He promptly turned away to hide his face, but felt the warmth of a hand tenderly making contact with his shoulder.
He'd had a whole year to prepare since the emotional turmoil of last Christmas, but he was quickly realizing that it didn't matter how much time had passed; special occasions could make you re-live the pain of a year ago as if it were yesterday. Marinette's hand left his shoulder, and he saw through misty eyes that she was now encircling him within her arms as she embraced him from behind. As she buried her head in his back, he heard her muffled voice whisper, "I'm sorry…"
Her sympathetic words were all it took to send him over the edge. Tears like lonely soldiers marched steadily down each cheek, unaccompanied by any sobs, sniffles, or sharp breaths, yet each carried a wealth of sorrow and pain. He'd never cried in front of her before. Heck, he'd never cried in front of anyone before, but after all the time they'd spent together and the trust they'd built, it just felt so… natural. With each tear that fell, he felt a little lighter somehow, like the tears actually were carrying his worries away.
How long they stayed like that, he didn't know, but while remembering his mother on Christmas was overwhelming painful, something was different from last year, and he quickly realized it was because he had the comfort of a friend…. The comfort of a friend who'd become quite dear to him and the comfort of her hug. It was a strange feeling, unlike the faint memories he had of being comforted by his mother's hug in years long past. There was something distinctly different about Marinette's hug and he'd give anything to find out what it was, as he found it almost intoxicating, like he desperately needed it.
Marinette was the one to break the silence, relaxing her grip and pulling her head away - Chat found himself missing the contact - in order to say, "I can't imagine what it must feel like to spend Christmas without the loved ones you used to, and I'm so sorry I flippantly suggested we have this mini Christmas party here tonight; if I'd known that this was such a hard time for you, I never would've suggested it."
Silently panicking that Marinette was blaming herself, Chat whipped himself around so he was facing her, insisting, "No, I was the one who agreed; I wanted to be with you!"
Suddenly aware of just how close their faces were and only just beginning to realize how many different ways his declaration could be taken, Chat felt his cheeks flush with warmth despite the growing chill of the night. Busying himself with wiping the tears from his cheeks, he tried not to make eye contact until he could completely regain his composure. Regrettably, Marinette took that as a signal to end her embrace, but he was thankful for the handkerchief she pulled from her pocket and offered to him as a result.
Visibly brightening, as though she had just had a brilliant idea to cheer him up, Marinette motioned to the tea table declaring, "Well then, you'll be in for a real treat; your first consumption of chocolat chaud! Go ahead and try a sip before it gets cold."
Thankful for her attempts to change his mood, he redirected his attention to the steaming cup. He eyed it skeptically as he slowly raised it to his lips, for as the beverage moved in the cup, it seemed less like water and more like syrup. It's not that he didn't trust Marinette, but he'd also never seen a drink this thick before. He chanced a glance up at the girl in question, but found her gazing eagerly at him; she seemed more keen to see his reaction than to enjoy her own share. This struck a chord in him as a memory of his mother giving him a similar look as he was eating his very first macaroon came to mind. Blinking hard as he reminded himself that this Christmas wasn't about his mother, it was about Marinette, he focused his attention on the scrumptious-smelling drink.
After a moment's hesitation, he decided that the likelihood of this being a prank was too low to be a real concern and he took the plunge. Apparently his reaction was favorable, because as he ravenously gulped the rest of this delicious beverage, she giggled with glee. "I see we have a winner!" she proclaimed, holding up her teacup as though to perform a toast before bringing it to her lips to take a long draw from it. Chat couldn't help but smile as she displayed similar signs of revelry while she drank. His breakdown a few minutes prior became eclipsed by the simple pleasures he now enjoyed as Marinette continued her merry campaign to show him how beautiful Christmas could be. She explained how her family made a wide assortment of Christmas sweets, picked out a tree, decorated the house, and sang Christmas carols, then how they visited their family and friends and all went together to Christmas mass. By the time she'd finished, they had finished every last morsel of macaroon and chocolat chaud, the hour was late, and the pair had begun to stifle the occasional yawn.
Standing to take his leave, Chat announced, "Well I'm sure with all those festivities and how late we've talked, you must be tired, so I should get going."
"Wait! I need to give you your gift first!" Marinette stated, getting up to retrieve a box from the balcony hatch.
Crap. All his reservations and hesitations that had been forgotten during the night's festivities returned. Glancing at the small box still resting on the balcony ledge, he entertained thoughts of withholding it, claiming that he had forgotten it. If nothing else, it would buy him some time to find a more suitable gift and avoid a potentially disappointing end to the night for Marinette. Or maybe not giving her a gift at all would be equally disappointing?
He was drawn out of his thoughts by a gentle prodding; Marinette was handing him a beautifully gift-wrapped package, complete with a bright green ribbon. Taking it in hand, he noted that it was heavier than expected for its size. With a visual cue from his balcony buddy, he unwrapped the parcel to reveal a hand painted flower pot. The scene that Marinette had painted depicted a rooftop garden where ladybugs and black cats frolicked amongst pink, red, and violet flowers. Smiling with delight, he excitedly wrapped Marinette in a hug, ecstatic at the idea that he would get to start his own garden at home. "Wow, thanks! This is perfect!" He exclaimed, too elated to notice her blush forming. By the time he let her go she was quite red in the face, but she effectively distracted him by pointing to the gift box on the ledge. "I d-don't mean to pry, but… is that… for me?"
Well, there was no getting out of it now… So retrieving the box, he hesitantly held it out to her, only now noticing how beet red her complexion was. Unsure how to react, all he could do was watch as she took it from him and proceeded to reveal the present within.
With a small gasp, she marveled, "Oh my goodness, it's beautiful!" With that, the last of his worries melted away. For once, he had succeeded in gift-giving. Heaving a sigh of relief, he couldn't stop himself from admitting, "I'm so glad you like it! To be honest, I was worried sick you wouldn't…"
"Why wouldn't I?" The excited teenager exclaimed, marveling at the exquisite necklace. It was a tasteful design, just a simple silver chain with a charm at the center. What made it so endearing to Marinette was the intricacy of the charm and how perfectly it suited her. The charm depicted a bouquet of flowers, interwoven with vines and leaves, each flower and bud studded with tiny gemstones to give the petals their color. She noted that the vast majority of them were a shade of pink not so unlike her signature color, but there were also white and violet blooms speckled throughout. The longer she looked at it, the more intricate it appeared, and she began to wonder just how much Chat must've spent on this. It wasn't just the price though, she could simply feel how much thought and care went into selecting this gift and how it embodied how much Chat valued her friendship - or was there a chance it had become more?
When she looked up, she noticed Chat was smiling warmly at her, seemingly overjoyed at her reaction. She felt her cheeks tinge again as the familiar presence of butterflies stirred within her once more. These feelings had been increasing in frequency over the past few months and tonight had confirmed things - she'd begun to develop feelings for her feline friend. Once again the conflict between the feelings she had for Adrien and the feelings she had for Chat were at war, and she didn't know how to process it. Chat 's face fell, as though he could sense the shift in Marinette's thoughts, and she began to panic.
"What's wrong, Mari?" Chat asked, voice laced with genuine concern. That certainly didn't help matters, as she was a sucker for caring and empathetic souls. "Did you find something wrong with it?" He prodded again, which only served to frazzle her further. This was the last thing she wanted, making him fret over nothing, especially when he had been so worried about his gift. The poor thing had been through so much and was always so hard on himself, she hadn't meant to add to it!
"No! Of course not!" Marinette protested, unable to stop her usual spastic self from chattering a mile a minute without waiting for her brain to make sense of what she was trying to say, "The fine is perfectly necklace! I-I mean, the perfectly is fine neck-! Ah! No! I meant! I love the lace-neck-! Ahhhh… that is…" Marinette forced herself to breathe, hoping it would calm her down. After a brief pause, she felt like she had reasonably regained control of the situation, but was so ready to escape this situation, she still couldn't slow the speed of her declaration, "I love you! ...It! I love IT!"
Certain that she was perfectly able to light the Seine on fire with the heat of her face alone, Marinette buried her face in her hands, more embarrassed now than she'd ever been in her life, which was quite the accomplishment for her. She couldn't believe how badly she'd messed that whole exchange up and now all she wanted to do was hide, but her brain had completely overloaded and shut down, freezing her in place.
After a few moments, she felt a gentle tug on her wrists. Reluctantly, she separated her middle and ring fingers just a smidge so she could see Chat Noir, who had a look of judgement-free worry in his eyes. He gently whispered, "Marinette, are you alright?"
Stupid cat. It was his fault she felt this way. What made it worse was that just about everything he did made it worse. Vivid memories of all their visits over the past few months flooded her mind - all the times they'd laughed together, vented together, and consoled each other that had brought them to this moment, late Christmas night - or was it early the morning after? - , where he was still concerned with her well-being far above his own. Didn't he care that she'd mistakenly declared her love to him? He probably would be fine if she denied it, insecure eyes shining with some thought along the lines of, 'I don't deserve love anyway' , caring more about her feelings than his own. It wouldn't be fair to lie, however, not after he'd come to trust her so completely. But then again it wasn't like she could just come out and say it… again. That would be far to bold! But on the other hand, it wasn't like they were in primary school anymore… why couldn't she be a little bold? The cat was out of the bag, so to speak... She couldn't take it anymore, not when every cell in her body was trembling with this emotion. Without really knowing what she was doing, in one swift, Ladybug-like motion, she had drawn Chat's face to her own and planted a soft, quick kiss to his lips, much like the time she had to cure him from Dark Cupid's arrow.
The kiss was all it took to reboot her brain, and realizing what she had done, she abruptly withdrew, muttered the first words that came to her mind ('S-sorry, Merry Christmas!'), and retreated to her bedroom, locking the hatch behind her and promptly turning off the lights before burying her head in a pillow.
"What… just happened?" A rather confused Chat Noir asked of no one in particular. It was more an exercise to see if this had all been real. The sound of his voice seemed real, the frozen mist it created seemed real, the weight of the flower pot still in his hand felt real… The tingle of his lips definitely, beyond all doubt, felt real.
Slowly but surely, the shock melted away and was replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and pleasure. Part of him felt like he had betrayed Ladybug, but the more rational side of his brain reassured him that Ladybug had never returned his feelings and that the two had been growing apart lately. On the flip side, there was no denying that something special had been brewing between himself and Marinette, he just, until now, had been clueless as to its true nature. Well actually, he still had many questions as to the true nature given the mixed signals before and after the kiss… Surely it wasn't normal to run away after a kiss? Not that he had any experience to know for sure.
Gradually a smile and general mood of elation grew, and he decided that working through the questions could wait until tomorrow. For now, he would enjoy what was left of the best Christmas day, and certainly the best Christmas gifts, he'd ever been given. To think it had all started a few months ago with a little note that said, 'For you'.
Authors Notes:
My knowledge of Parisian Christmas traditions only comes from the Miraculous Ladybug Christmas musical special and a little Google searching, so my apologies if I represented anything inaccurately. What stuck out to me the most was that the festivities can start on Christmas Eve with a big meal and staying up to go to the midnight church service…. Then they go about celebrating Christmas day similar to the rest of the world, complete with a Christmas dinner and many Christmas treats, and chocolat chaud. Thus I figured that since Marinette's parents run a bakery, they'd be swamped with orders to fill leading up to those two days, and then plenty busy making more for themselves as they celebrate on those days. This is why I also made the assumption that if Chat Noir had never run into Pere Noel like it did in the Christmas special, he'd have wandered about Paris for two nights instead of just one.
My knowledge of French is also courtesy of the Google, so feel free to point out any errors I may have made in my story or in the definitions I give below. I used italics throughout the story to distinguish the French words from the normal English. Here are their translations:
Chocolat chaud - Sort of like hot chocolate, but instead of a cocoa powder base, actual chocolate is used so the resulting beverage is creamier, thicker, and all around more delicious. You should definitely try some sometime.
Buche de Noel - A chocolate sponge cake in the shape of a Yule log
Pere Noel - Father Christmas; Santa Claus
I mention throughout the story a lot about Adrien's Christmas a year ago. His last Christmas is based on the Miraculous Ladybug Christmas musical special, but I'm only accepting parts of it as canon for this bonus chapter. So, he never met Pere Noel and had hot chocolate, I'm just taking the parts where he's bitter and suffering since it was the first Christmas without his mom and his dad ignored him, where he wandered the city, depressed and lonely. As a side note, since 'For You' is only season 1 canon, this bonus chapter is also only season 1 canon, despite the fact that season 2 has since aired.
Both Marinette's and Chat's presents feature violet flowers. This is meant to allude to Mrs. Agreste's favorite flower, the gourdon. At least, it's her favorite flower in my universe, as mentioned in chapter one. I have this little head cannon that speculates that Mrs. Agreste actually died, but Mr. Agreste told Adrien that she left them, since he's not ready to accept her death (and hence that's why he's been trying to get the ladybug and cat miraculouses, to revive her). Hence the use of purple flowers here is sort of a small symbol that Mrs. Agreste is still looking over her son and has blessed his budding relationship with Marinette.
A quick note about Marinette's reference to 'primary school'. I'm not sure what it's called everywhere else, but in France, it's called 'primary school', whereas in the states, it's called 'elementary school'. My guess is that it's just the US that calls it 'elementary school', 'cause apparently, we like to be different, and that's why we use Fahrenheit, miles, and cups. Perhaps if we sent our kids off to a primary school instead of an elementary school, they'd learn the metric system at an early age so we could all use the same standards. But I digress.
Dark Cupid's arrow refers to the Dark Cupid episode (#10) where Ladybug needs to break Cat Noir free from the enemy's control by giving him a smooch… on the lips (Kudos if anyone got that Marco quote reference just now. On a sidenote, I also tried to sneak in an El Dorado quote for the 'both? Both. both is good' quote, though I had to change it a bit, since I saw that recently. Double kudos if you find that one).
Tumblr
For updates on this and other stories, behind-the-scenes, Q&A, and general fangirling, check out my tumblr: zepuka DOT tumblr DOT com