A/N: I know I have other stories to work on, but I'm taking advice from the English professor I had during my first semester: If you have an idea, write it.

Seriously, if the writing gods bestow their gifts into your mind for a hot second, write it down. Don't worry about punctuation, you can go back later to fix your grammar mistakes. Because ideas can come and go in the blink of an eye. That's why I wrote this, I had the idea and I immediately went to work on it. I've wanted to do a vampire AU for awhile now, but had no idea how to execute it until now :)

Fun Fact: In the story at first, humans were supposed to be aware of vampires, though vampires were still mysterious and dangerous. I changed it because I didn't think it was working too well.

Thank you for the support for this, here's the next chapter!

Chapter 2

"So? What do you think?"

Alya gave Chat Noir's letter another once over, bringing the paper to her face in order to better inspect it. Her mouth was in a pensive line as she studied the writing, while occasionally nodding and humming to herself.

She placed down the letter on the bed and folded her hands together on her lap in a strictly business-like manner.

"Marinette, I think I can safely say..."

Her lips twitched up.

"-that you have this guy wrapped around your finger! He's totally in love with you!"

Marinette frowned as she picked up the rose and twirled it in her fingers in thought. Her blue orbs raised back up to meet with Alya's golden ones.

"I don't know. I-"

"Girl," Alya chastised, "stop being so insecure! Is it really that hard to believe that a boy likes you? Granted, the way he's leaving roses in here in the middle of the night is a little weird, but it doesn't look like he wants to hurt you."

"I know," Marinette sighed. "It's just...ugh, I wish I could properly meet him! I just have too many feelings about this!"

"Well," Alya replied with a sly smirk, "you have to admit that it's at least a little romantic."

A pink color highlighted Marinette's cheeks.

"I guess so," she mumbled shyly.

Alya picked up the letter and inspected it again. "And it looks like he's really proper based on his vocabulary, not to mention he's a sweet-talker. I'd really like to meet this guy."

"Tell me about it," Marinette grumbled, a bit peeved. She had every right to be; an admirer leaving her roses then professing his feelings for her in a letter but refusing to reveal himself? It was just complicating the situation even more.

"Chat Noir," Alya murmured in contemplation. "What kind of a name is that, anyway?"

Her best friend shrugged. "I have no idea. I guess he doesn't want to tell me his real name for some reason."

Alya's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't think it is Nathanael, do you?"

Marinette was about to deny it but paused. Chat Noir could be anybody, even the quiet artist that sat in the back of the room. However, she didn't remember him ever being exceptionally good at writing. She's seen his essays; they were good, but not as articulate as the letter she held.

She believed he was like her, excellent at sketching, but terrible with words. Nathanael couldn't write notes that made her heart skip a beat.

She shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

The auburn-haired girl tilted her head and squinted her eyes, once again observing the letter. "Yeah, you're right. Nathanael could never write so...flirt-ily."

After a short period of silence, Alya suddenly brightened.

"It's Saturday, and we're just laying around dissecting this guy's note. Come on, let's go do something."

Marinette perked up as a gasp left her mouth upon remembering a very important detail about this weekend. The stupid cat's note made her forget all about it!

"Yeah, Le Tissu is having a sale this weekend, I have to stock up!"

Alya shook her head with a chuckle. Of course Marinette's idea of a fun Saturday was shopping at a fabric store.

"Alright, we'll stop by."

...

That night, Chat Noir set himself right outside Marinette's window, peeking in and finding the girl to be fast asleep at her desk. Rolls of fabric were scattered around the room, along with stray bits of cloth. He remembered when he used to be confused at seeing all the different fabric, wondering why it was there, but he soon realized that she wanted to be a clothing designer.

A fond smile lifted the corners of his mouth. At the castle she'd have her own private sewing room and never run out of supplies. She'd have everything she could ever need.

The frown sent his lips tugging downwards. He'd never be able to give that to her if he didn't make a move.

"Stop being a little bitch," Nino had snapped. "Just go over there and introduce yourself."

He shook his head and softly growled in aggravation. Introducing yourself to the person you were in love with was a lot harder than it looked! Why, he even bet that she had probably already imagined who her secret admirer was: some tall, dark, handsome human.

Well, he was tall, he had that part down. He believed himself to be quite handsome, he didn't think himself to be ugly. He didn't have dark hair or eyes, he hoped she liked blond and green eyes.

And finally, the human part. He could never be human, which was most likely the exact kind of suitor she wanted.

He sighed dejectedly. Maybe he should just-

He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket.

Confused, he unzipped the pocket and took out the handy device. His eyebrows drew down when he saw Nino's name and picture flash across the screen. He swiped a clawed finger against the screen and held it to his ear.

"Nino?" He murmured, careful to not accidentally wake his Loved One. "What is it?"

"I knew you'd be having doubts, so I figured I should call," his best friend replied. Chat growled in annoyance.

"Yeah, don't tell me you don't need me right now. I know you were just about to leave the rose and run away."

Damn. Nino really did know him better than anyone.

"Maybe."

"Dude," he groaned. "Just talk to her, dammit! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Oh gee, I don't know," Chat answered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Scream in my face? Tell me to get the hell out and never talk to her again? Call the police? Got any other suggestions? Those are just the few I can think of at the top of my head."

"You're really over-dramatic sometimes, you know that?"

"I'm being sensible!"

He heard Nino sigh from the other end of the line. "Look. You're her secret admirer, right?"

Even though he couldn't see, Chat nodded anyway. He quickly corrected it by answering in the affirmative, albeit puzzled. Why would he ask a question he has known the answer to ever since this whole thing started?

"Then act like it!"

The vampire's bright emerald eyes darted off side to side. "I'm not getting you."

"Oh my God, I really do have to tell you everything," Nino moaned. "Act like a suitor would! Flirt with her, compliment her, be a Prince Charming. Talk to her so that she becomes a pile of mush. Now are you getting me? She won't be pissed or afraid of you if you do that."

Chat exhaled through his nose, trying to calm himself. He could do those things, no problem. No problem at all.

Then why was his hand shaking so much?

"Okay, I'll do it. But if she rejects me I'm blaming you."

Nino laughed. "I highly doubt she will, but alright. See you soon, buddy. But not too soon."

Chat rolled his eyes at the suggestive remark. He really didn't think Marinette would fall into his arms after introducing themselves like Nino seemed to think.

"Yeah. See you later."

The line went dead, leading Chat to replace the phone in his pocket. He took another deep breath, despite not needing it to live. Breathing in that deeply somehow comforted him and calmed him down.

Okay, relax, you can do this. You're not Prince Adrien Agreste, you're Chat Noir. Cool, confident, suave alley cat.

With that determined mindset, he jumped up to her balcony and set to work on opening the skylight like he had done a million times before. With that done he soundlessly dropped to the bed, landing on all fours.

He peeked over and saw Marinette still fast asleep at her desk, her head laying on her left arm. He didn't think it was a very comfortable position to sleep in, her neck would surely hurt in the morning. Good thing he was there to prevent that from happening, right?

He straightened, willing the determination to surge through his system. He could do this. He'd be cool, confident, and suave, exactly the kind of man a woman would fall for.

With that last thought, he took the hand that was dangling against her side and brought it to his lips.

...

Marinette felt herself being roused from sleep. She saw light filtering in through her eyelids, and she knew her pillow wasn't this uncomfortable.

These signs could only mean one thing. She fell asleep at her desk again.

She slowly creaked her eyes open, her sewing machine soon coming into focus.

Hold on. She was sleeping on her left arm, but her right felt like it was lifted. And something very soft was touching her knuckles.

Curious, she glanced over and saw a man wearing a black leather suit, holding her hand to his lips with his eyes closed.

Wait. What?!

She gasped, fully awake, and stood from her chair. With a spark of fear she tore her hand away, only for the stranger to react by grabbing the other one and bringing it his lips like he had the one before it!

She wrenched that one away as well. He responded by grabbing both in his hands and giving them an equal amount of kisses each.

Confused and scared, she ripped her hands away from him and took a step back. "Who are you?!"

The man picked his head up, the blond strands hanging down his forehead previously obscuring his face from view. Though he gave her a warm smile, she felt a chill run down her spine at his eyes.

They were a luminescent green, a very nice color, but they were eyes that a cat had, slanted pupils and everything. What was this man?

"I am Chat Noir," he spoke in a smooth, masculine voice. He dropped into a gallant bow. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess."

Chat Noir? This was Chat Noir? Well, she could see why he called himself that. With black ears atop his head, a belt hanging down to the ground resembling a tail, clawed fingers and eyes like those, he looked every bit a cat.

Although, a small part of her was relieved it wasn't Nathanael.

"You're Chat Noir? The same one who's been leaving me the roses?" She asked.

He nodded and his mouth parted to reveal gleaming white teeth. If she had looked closer, she would've seen the sharp points on his canines.

"The very same. I figured it was time to meet, as you had suggested."

Marinette honestly had no clue what to do. She had her secret admirer standing right there in her room, after all this time when she wanted to see him. She had pictured herself asking all sorts of questions, yet now her mind was drawing a blank.

Chat Noir drooped a little and his smile wavered. "Don't tell me you're disappointed, Princess." The remark was meant to be light and joking, yet it came out a bit nervously.

What did he have to be nervous about? He was a stranger standing in her room, if anything she should be nervous!

"Um, I can't say. I don't know you at all, I can't be disappointed with something I don't completely know yet."

The blond perked up a little at her answer, supposedly the confidence she had earlier seen came back.

"You are so wise, my princess," he complimented with a grin.

There it was again, the 'princess' endearment. She crossed her arms together and gave him a stern look. "Why do you call me that? And I'm not yours."

He blinked, momentarily taken aback, until he regained his cool demeanor. "Of course, you are not mine. I'm sorry for saying that. But I call you a princess because you are one. Maybe not literally, but personality-wise you are."

She raised an eyebrow, growing suspicious of this man. "How can you say that? You don't know me."

He smirked, positively wicked. It made her wariness falter for a second and her stomach to mysteriously buzz.

"Do you think I'd leave roses in any maiden's room? I know you're kind. Judging by all the fabric in your room, I'd say creative, too. I've seen test papers lying about, you're smart, although I will admit you could use some help with physics."

Marinette narrowed her eyes at that. How dare this jerk snoop around and then make assumptions on her lack of skills with physics.

Although, he was right, even if she didn't care to admit it.

"You're breathtakingly beautiful, you entranced me the moment I saw you," he went on, distracting her from her temporary vexation.

She felt her cheeks heat up slightly as well. It wasn't her fault, she wasn't used to hearing compliments about her looks like that. The only ones who told her she was pretty were her parents and Alya.

"Uh, thanks. And-um-when did you see me?"

It really made her wonder when he first saw her. Did she see him in turn and not know it? Well, out of the leather suit, she meant. She knew if she saw him like this she'd never forget him, there weren't a lot of people dressed like him running around in Paris.

He grinned. "I think that's a story for another time."

Marinette tilted her head in puzzlement. Why couldn't he tell her? He didn't look like the kind to share secrets, anyway, judging by the mask he wore and how he didn't refer to himself by a real name.

She decided to ask her next question. However, it wasn't spoken without clear nerves and anxiety. She never confronted a person about their feelings before.

"And I take it that..um-you're interested in me?"

Chat Noir's face broke out into a warm smile, his eyes became half-lidded as he gazed at he with an expression she couldn't place. Before she could react, he stepped closer to her and took her hand in his again, only this time he knelt to the ground.

She looked at him in bewilderment as he placed the hand against his lips. They should've been warm, she noted, but instead they were cool. Yet that did nothing to distract her from the softness of them.

"I'm a lot more than 'interested' in you, Princess. I can tell you how exactly at another time."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at his stubborn evasiveness to answer her questions.

"Then what can you tell me now?"

Idly, she wondered if she should be snapping at him like this. He was still a stranger and could pull a knife or something on her at any moment. Yet somehow, with the way he had tenderly kissed her knuckles, or how he complimented her, she didn't think him to be all that dangerous.

He released her hand and stood back up with a smile. "Whatever you wish, except for a few things."

"So, in other words, only what you feel like revealing, right?" She asked, a hint of a grin tugging at her lips.

He scoffed a laugh and smirked. "Exactly."

"Okay. How about..." She paused in thought, wanting to ask a question that he could easily answer but not one too mundane, like a favorite color.

"Why are your eyes like that? Like a cat's?"

Chat Noir bit his lip and glanced down at the floor. Marinette angrily narrowed her eyes and looked away. Maybe all he was willing to divulge was stuff like favorite colors. He sounded so debonair in his letter, but here the man himself was, dodging questions and being evasive.

Marinette thought a man trying to pursue a girl would answer questions about himself, and she in turn about herself. How were they supposed to get to know each other if he wasn't going to cooperate? The whole situation was strange enough as it was.

The blond picked his head up, eyes hardened with resolution. "It's because of my Miraculous. It's an object that turns me into 'this'," he gestured down at himself, "and with the suit comes new eyes, apparently."

Marinette found her curiosity growing despite the answer she received. "Why do you have it? Is it just to give you a costume change or...?"

Now he looked really uncomfortable. He started to shuffle his feet and refused to meet her eyes. "It protects me," he murmured.

He didn't say anything more. She pondered if she should push him, but ultimately decided to let the matter drop.

She realized she was being a bit too invasive, especially for someone who has just met him. Possible suitor or not, no one should be pushed to reveal information they don't want to. Perhaps she should just stick with the common, mundane questions for now.

"So," she began awkwardly, putting her hands behind her back. "What's your favorite color?"

He blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden change in direction of questioning. It was all too soon when he smiled, comforable and warm.

"Blue."

Marinette felt her lips stretch into a tiny smile.

"Mine's pink."