Chapter 8
Marinette finally had an official ship name for Nino and Alya picked out.
DJWifi.
Nino had once expressed the desire to be a DJ one day, and Alya was always on her phone using the internet, and subsequently the wifi as well.
It was perfect! To be honest, their names didn't really mesh well together, so DJWifi was a wonderful solution, in her eyes.
When she told Chat Noir that night of her revelation, he laughed fully and loudly, only stopping when she had to press a hand against his mouth else her parents would hear him. She really didn't want to have to explain why a stranger dressed in a leather catsuit was in her room at night.
Yeah, she would rather avoid that possible confrontation.
A few muffled chuckles escaped between her fingers, prompting a stern look from her as she tried to compel him with her eyes to stop laughing.
"Come on, Chat, my parents might hear you!" she whispered a bit desperately.
He nodded once, although she could feel his lips stretch into a firm smile underneath her hand. Tentatively she withdrew it, allowing herself to see the full-fledged grin on his face.
Without a word, he brought a hand up to his lips and mimed locking them shut and throwing away the key. Marinette rolled her eyes with a quiet snort of amusement.
"Silly kitty," she chided softly.
Chat felt his otherwise lifeless stomach do a little flip at the endearing nickname. It was mildly amusing, he mentally noted, how this human girl could reduce him, a Prince of vampires, to a lovesick mess with nothing but a look beneath her lashes and a pet name.
If only his people could see him now.
She picked up tonight's rose from the chaise's side before standing and walking over to her computer, to the vase sitting beside it. Giving the flower one last quick sniff, she placed it in the vase that housed the earlier roses from his visits.
"I'm honored you keep all my roses," Chat drawled with a grin, lounging on the chaise with his arm lazily hanging over his raised leg. Marinette idly thought the pose resembled a model's.
Hm, now there was a thought. Chat as a model. Well, he was definitely handsome enough for the job, and he had the pose down. But how successful would the cat-themed outfit make him?
An involuntary giggle escaped past her lips, causing him to crinkle his eyes in confusion.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, nothing," she dismissed, shaking her head. He didn't need to have his ego stroked any more, it was already a decent size. Although, it didn't make him obnoxious like other people she knew who had big egos. (Cough) Like Lila (Cough).
It's not nice to keep secrets, you know would've been Chat's immediate, teasing response, but when the words were at the tip of his tongue he kept his mouth clamped shut. If he said what he wanted to say, he would've been a complete hypocrite. There was no one hiding more secrets than him, at the moment.
Nino was still on him for telling her the truth. But how could he tell her that he was one of the monsters that horror movies were made of? That he was one of the creatures that people were afraid of for thousands of years, and for good reason? That she was made of the stuff that kept him alive?
She would be terrified. However, maybe with more time between them, she wouldn't be afraid for when the truth finally came out. Maybe, just maybe, she would accept him for who he was, fangs and all.
So, he conceded to just say 'whatever you say, Princess' and scoot over on the chaise to give Marinette room to lie down beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder, inducing him to lift up his arm and pull her in so she was nestled comfortably against his side.
Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to inhale her delicious scent.
Her rare blood type infused with her natural vanilla, sugar, and honey aroma screamed at his vampiristic instincts to drink. His hold on her arm tightened as he closed his eyes to better concentrate on restraining himself.
"Chat?" her quiet voice arose, distracting him. "Are you okay?"
Immediately he loosened his grip on her arm and opened his eyes. In the next second he was looking down at her and flashing her a carefree smile.
"Never better, Princess," he reassured before reclining his head back in relaxation.
"Whatever you say," she replied, repeating his words from earlier prior to returning her head against his side again and closing her eyes.
Truly he was never better. He had his beautiful Loved One pressed against him, and that was all he needed.
She wouldn't be like this if she knew what you really were, a voice in the back of his mind cruelly mocked. You almost killed Roxane, what's stopping Marinette from ending up the same way?
No. He wouldn't do that to her, he couldn't. He didn't have the ability to kill her, he loved her too much. Even if she had the most alluring blood he ever smelled, he could never kill her.
Right?
Imagine, murdering your own Loved One in cold, albeit delectable, blood. Can you imagine how that would feel?
His mind was all too quick to conjure up the horrible image: Marinette, pale and lifeless, dangling from his arms as her blood poured from the puncture marks on her neck, and down the milky column of her throat. His eyes: a bright, acidic green as his mouth and chin were covered by her vital fluid as he bent over her, prepared to finish off the meal.
A horrified gasp tore out of his throat before he could prevent it as he sat up, trying to wipe the terrible image from his mind. His gaze whipped down to Marinette, who was now looking at him in alarmed concern.
"Chat? What's wrong?" she demanded innocently.
"N-Nothing," he stammered, already moving to get out of the chaise. He held his arms to his chest, visibly closing himself off. "Nothing's wrong. I-I have to go."
He had to get away, he had to prevent himself from doing the unthinkable.
"But why?" she asked, not understanding of the inner turmoil he was going through. "Seriously, Chat, what's wrong? You can tell me."
"I can't," he bit out, moving toward the ladder that would lead to the trapdoor and to her safety. "I'm sorry, Marinette. But I can't tell you."
"Hey!" she protested, getting up out of the chaise to chase after him. What happened to make him leave so suddenly? Did she do something to frighten him away? Did she smell bad? But she showered before he came here…
"Good night," he bid, poking his head out the trapdoor, just as she reached her bed.
She would've shouted for him to come back, but she knew that he was already gone and wouldn't be able to hear it.
It was probably nothing, she tried to assure herself. He probably just forgot about something at home, it happens sometimes.
But the irrational part of her mind battled that conclusion.
He ran because he realized what a plain girl you really are. He probably couldn't stop thinking of Lila the whole time he was here and finally couldn't take it anymore. He's probably on her way to her house right now.
No, he wouldn't! Not after all the roses, or the sweet words. He couldn't just turn off his feelings for her so suddenly, right?
He'll come back, she mentally encouraged. Something was bothering him, but he'll come back.
Her hopes dwindled after three nights without a visit, with not even a rose in her room in the mornings.
…
"You need to get over yourself and see her again," Nino snapped, standing over his hunched-over friend sitting on the bed. "It's been three days! She doesn't say it, but I can tell she misses you."
It was obvious during school. The human girl had been melancholy the rest of the week. She tried painting smiles on her face at the appropriate times, yet when she saw no one was looking it would revert back to the subdued frown. Alya noticed, but not even the coaxing of her best friend was enough to rouse her from her depressed state.
Adrien lifted his tired, tortured eyes to the werewolf, who looked less than sympathetic.
"I can't. I'll kill her."
"Oh my God, you're not going to kill her!" Nino shouted, exasperated by this stupidly dramatic vampire. "You'll only kill her if you want to. Do you want to?"
"Of course not!"
"Then you won't!"
"What if I lose control like with Roxane?"
"You can't let one mistake take over your life," Nino hissed, not even bothering to correct himself on that Adrien technically didn't have a 'life'.
Normally, the blond would rise to the occasion for a pun, but his eyes only narrowed in anger.
"Marinette wouldn't survive if I made a 'mistake,' Nino. One mistake is all it takes for her to die. I never should've done this in the first place. I should've left her alone, let her live without even knowing I exist."
"Yeah, and listen to you moan and whine at how you're hopelessly in love with this girl but can never actually be with her? Not even camembert could tempt me to stay and listen to that," Plagg griped from his perch on the computer. His tail was twitching in annoyance as he regarded his stricken holder.
"You're not a killer, Adrien," he reminded in a softer tone, a stark difference from his normally sarcastic and scornful attitude. "You won't hurt her. Nino's right, you can't let this one mishap affect you like this. You'll regret it when you live on in solitude while she moves on without you."
"And Plagg's right," Nino added when Adrien didn't say anything. "If you distance yourself, Marinette's only going to move on with her life. She'll eventually find another guy and marry him instead of you. He'll swear to her that he'll never abandon her, not like that one guy did."
Adrien glared at the kwami first, then settled his harsh stare on Nino, who hardly looked fazed.
"You play dirty," he growled.
"And you'll think to yourself how you could've been happy," Nino went on, disregarding his friend's accusation. "What if I didn't leave her? What if I didn't brood on that one, small mistake that didn't even end with death? What if I didn't let my worry and nerves stop me?"
He gave him a flat look.
"You'll be thinking of these questions, and probably more, for the rest of eternity. Always thinking of the 'what if's' that could've been avoided if you just listened to me and Plagg."
The Prince gazed down at the floor, the angry glare wiped off his face and replaced with a conflicted look.
Could they be right? Maybe he wouldn't hurt Marinette, since he was against the idea. He didn't even kill Roxane, she was most likely perfectly fine after her body had a chance to make new blood to replace the lost. When he was full he had great control, and he knew his control around Marinette was getting better and better with each visit.
Perhaps he really could be with her, without her being in danger of him.
"Alright," he surrendered with a sigh, looking back up with a small grin tugging the corners of his lips up. "I'll visit her tonight."
"Good," Nino answered with a smug smirk. "But before you do that, you need to do my part of the project work. Have fun!" he sang, walking to the door and sparing the stunned vampire a wave before leaving the room.
Adrien scoffed a laugh as he shook his head, already rising to get to Nino's backpack where he knew the books and papers he needed were. Hopefully this wouldn't take him too long.
…
"Alya, are you sure about this?" Marinette asked uneasily as she looked at the neon pink sign highlighting the name of the nightclub.
Délire
Just the name of it made an uncomfortable feeling fester in her stomach. She wasn't the club or partying-type, she was too clumsy and awkward for that kind of lifestyle. She preferred to design and sew. That was safer, and less attention-inducing.
"Of course I'm sure," Alya affirmed with an eager grin. "Now let's go in!"
Her best friend had noticed her semi-depressed attitude for the last few days, and so developed the brilliant idea of going to a nightclub to let loose and have fun. According to the budding journalist, the place didn't ask for ID's, and so they would probably be let in fairly easily.
Marinette at first refused, but after relentless pleading from Alya, she relented. Because maybe she did need some fun, to do something spontaneous in her life.
And so, she told her parents that she was going over to Alya's for a sleepover. They granted her permission, and the girls ran there to go get ready for the night out.
Her friend had practically forced her into a tight, light blue dress that clung to her curves and ended at her mid-thigh. It was tank top style, with a black, carved mesh embellishment and the dress itself developing into a sweetheart design on top of her breasts. The hem of it had little flower designs cut out, resulting in a pretty, but club-worthy dress.
Alya's dress had ended in the same length, only hers was dark purple and had black, lacy sleeves going down to her wrists. Her chest was covered by the satin material, then split into more of the lacy design, until finally the bottom half starting at her hips was the purple material again.
The girls walked to the back of the line, content to wait their turn to get to the front, when they heard a shrill whistle. Their heads bobbed up at the same time, allowing them to see the bouncer who was waving them up front.
Marinette's mind immediately went to panic mode. Did they look so young that he knew they were underage at first glance? They were both 17, they only needed one more year to get in. One year wouldn't make much of a difference, right? What if he calls the police on them? How would she explain to her parents that she got arrested? She would never get into fashion school, she wouldn't be able to make her own clothing line. Nobody would want clothes from a jail bird.
She blinked to let her eyes adjust to the darkness when she realized that she was inside the club. The music blared loud in her ears, and she could already feel the heat and sweat in the room coming from the dancing crowd.
She looked down to her arm where Alya had clasped it. Apparently in her internal hysteria, her friend had took her arm and dragged her along, straight past the bouncer and right into the establishment.
"Relax, you're so tense," Alya laughed, letting go of her hold on her. "Come on, let's have some fun."
Marinette barely had time to get a word out before she grabbed her hand and pulled her to the bar. As soon as the bartender glanced in their direction Alya waved to get his attention.
"What can I get you ladies?" he asked with a grin. He didn't look to be any older than 30.
"We'll have two blueberry basil margaritas," Alya ordered confidently, leaning her elbow on the counter. He at first raised an amused brow, then went to make the drinks. Marinette at first questioned on how Alya could order something so specific and without fear like she did it a hundred times before, but then remembered that her best friend pretty much didn't have any fear.
And that she probably looked up recipes online and practiced what she was going to say prior to coming here.
After they got their drinks, Alya made quick work of hers, while Marinette took a few sips here and there. She cautioned her friend not to drink so fast, so that she wouldn't get drunk, but the auburn-haired girl dismissed her concerns, instead telling her to hurry so they could dance.
"You can go without me, I'll be fine," Marinette offered, tracing the rim of the glass with her finger.
"No way. We came here together, so we should dance together," Alya insisted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she glared down at her best friend.
"Seriously, go on without me," the aspiring designer prodded, even making a shooing motion with her free hand that wasn't holding the glass. "You know I have two left feet anyway. Go and have some fun, I'll be okay." She allowed a small smile to grace her features to hopefully convince her.
Alya gave her a skeptical look before shaking her head.
"Alright, if you insist. Be careful, okay? Don't let any creeps hit on you." She winked, then immediately scampered off to the dance floor.
Marinette in turn hopped on top of the barstool, happy to just sit on the sidelines and enjoy her rather fruity drink.
"Not your scene, huh?" a voice suddenly spoke.
She whipped her head up to see the bartender a few feet from her, leaning both of his elbows on the counter as he regarded her with a half-smile.
A sigh of amusement left her nose as she matched his expression.
"Is it that obvious?"
"Well, being that you're the only girl not dancing, it kind of is," he replied teasingly. He held out his hand. "Name's Mathys."
"Marinette," she returned, reaching out to shake his hand.
"So, let me guess, your friend dragged you here?" he asked after she brought her hand back.
"Kind of," she giggled. "I agreed, for her, but still."
"Yeah, I get it," he sympathized, nodding. "I see it all the time. You know what's funny, though? Usually the girls who didn't want to have anything to do with this place end up having the most fun."
She laughed, almost choking on her drink in the process. She grabbed a napkin to dab her lips before speaking.
"Well I can assure you I won't be one of them. You won't see me up there, 'dancing the night away'."
"Why not?" Mathys questioned as he cocked his head to one side, letting her better see the vivid blue eyes staring at her.
She shrugged her shoulders, looking down bashfully at the counter. "I'm really clumsy, I'd probably trip on someone or myself."
"I bet you could dance if you really wanted to," he encouraged, giving her a determined smile.
Marinette laughed once more, the mental image of her dancing and hypnotizing the crowd was too ridiculous to not laugh at.
"Thanks, but I don't think it's going to happen."
"Suit yourself," he surrendered, shrugging. "Hey, want a refill?"
She blinked in confusion, until she glanced down to her glass to find that it was empty. Her insides already felt warm and a bit buzzy from the alcohol. She knew what her response should be.
"No thanks, I've had enough for one night."
"Suit yourself," he repeated with a smirk as he took her glass away. "So, since you're not drinking, and you don't want to dance, what are you going to do?"
"I don't know," she replied honestly.
"Do you want to step outside together? Get a breath of fresh air and think?" he offered, raising his eyebrows innocently.
"But don't you have to make the drinks?" she pointed out, concerned for his job.
"Nah, they'll be okay if I'm gone for a couple minutes," he answered, already making his way out from behind the counter. "Don't worry, I'll still have a job," he chuckled.
Marinette looked behind her, trying to find Alya in the throng of bodies but with no success. She wouldn't be worried if she was gone for a few minutes, right? She wouldn't even know.
Besides, a breath of fresh air did sound wonderful since she was beginning to sweat.
"Okay," she decided, standing up and walking behind him toward the entrance. Together they exited the club, walking past the bouncer who let them pass without any problems. As soon as they were a good few feet away from the front, just barely out of sight of the line of people still waiting to get in, Marinette breathed in a large breath of the warm, night air.
"This was a good idea," she commented, staring up into the night sky. "Thanks, Math…ys…"
She had turned to look at him, but became perplexed by the weird smirk he had on his face. It was the kind of look one had when they were about to devour their favorite food. It was purely predatory.
She took a step back toward the club, feeling more unnerved by the minute. "Uh, I'm just going to go back-"
However, that was all she got out, for Mathys grabbed her arm and pulled her into the alley they were standing next to. Alarmed, she opened her mouth to scream but was stopped by his hand clamping over her mouth.
Not willing to back down, she began to squirm, using her hands to try and push him away but the man didn't even budge. He didn't look all that strong, yet he held her there like he had the strength of ten men.
She tried once more to break free, even biting down on his hand, but when he didn't even so much as wince in pain she stopped, now becoming seriously confused. Was he impervious to pain somehow?
Mathys smirked smugly down at her. "Are you done, yet?"
Since she couldn't fire back a sassy retort, she settled for narrowing her eyes into the fiercest glare she could muster.
"Good," he said, then did something else to weird her out further.
He bent his head in the crook of her neck and deeply inhaled her scent.
"I smelled you when you first walked in that door," he murmured lowly, as if in a dream-like state.
She paused in her frantic thoughts to somehow get free. Smell her as soon as she walked in the door? Was it possible to have a sense of smell that good?
"You smell divine," he continued, burying his cool nose in her neck to breathe in her scent once more. "I'm surprised nobody snatched you up, yet. Oh well, more for me."
…Just what in the hell was he talking about?
"Even bartenders get thirsty," he remarked, finally pulling back and smiling. Her eyes widened when she laid eyes on the fangs that protruded out from his upper lip.
Fangs? What was he, some kind of vampire or something?!
"Mind if I have a drink?" he crooned softly, going to her neck again.
Holy shit he was a vampire. But they didn't exist! They were only real in books and movies, not in real life!
Figures she would be bitten by a creature that no one else thought existed. Just her luck.
"Don't worry, this will only pinch for a minute," he warned. She stilled, didn't even breathe when she felt the brush of his teeth against the soft skin of her neck.
She closed her eyes, bracing for the incoming pain.
However, it never came.
Her eyes flew open when she felt his body ripped off of her, just before his fangs could pierce her skin. Her jaw hung open as she took in Chat Noir, who had Mathys up against the wall by his neck.
She heard a low, angry hiss erupt from her savior's throat. It sounded like an agitated animal, or like a cat. She trembled from her place against the wall, too shocked to move from all that had happened to her thus far.
"Y-Your Highness?!" The bartender gasped, eyes almost bugging out in his head in fear.
Wait.
Your Highness? What was that about?
"You dare attack my Loved One?" Chat growled, baring his teeth in Mathys's face. His eyes burned even brighter in his fury.
On second thought, now that she had a good look, Chat's teeth also appeared rather pointy.
And what's a Loved One? Furthermore, what did it have to do with her?
The vampire seemed to pale further, if that was even possible.
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness," he blubbered, looking utterly petrified. It was a large difference from his earlier behavior. "I didn't know she was your Loved One, I swear I didn't!" he cried out, his hands reaching up to try to pry Chat's hand off.
But the feline wasn't having it, not at all. Instead, he took both of Mathys's wrists in his free hand, squeezing until Marinette could hear the sound of bones crunching.
She cringed as a sickly feeling arose in her stomach, the feeling doubling when Mathys's screams of agony reached her ears.
"Give me one good reason why I should let you live," the blond hissed darkly, letting go of the now broken wrists. "Why I shouldn't just rip your head clean off?"
Rip his head off?!
Her world swayed at the horrifying mental image her brain so kindly bestowed on her, resulting in a disgusted grunt escaping past her mouth. She held her stomach to prevent her dinner from making an encore all over the ground.
Mathys stayed silent, knowing he didn't really have a good reason. He attacked the Crown Prince's Loved One, he knew there was going to be a fatal consequence for it.
Adrien wasn't known for having a violent nature; he was a calm and rational vampire who was hardly ever threatening in any way. This was the first time he was seeing the Prince's rage.
He never would have guessed that such a quiet vampire could be so frightening.
Also, with perhaps the person someone cared about most involved, it would probably make anyone lose their temper.
Chat could barely control his rage as he glared into the vampire's wide blue eyes. He tightened his grip on his neck, just ready to destroy this bastard, when a muffled, guttural noise reached his ears.
He turned around, seeing Marinette holding her stomach, until she noticed that he was looking at her. Her eyes became wide with fear in those heavenly depths, her mouth partially open as she retreated further into the brick wall. He could hear her accelerated heartbeat along with her quickened breaths.
His hold slackened as his temper started to cool down.
He was scaring her. Protecting her was his main priority, and not frightening her had to be the second. He was supposed to make her feel safe, but her eyes spoke volumes of her changed opinion of him right then.
Reluctantly, he released the vampire, although not bothering to help him as he staggered on his feet.
"Get out," he growled. The only warning he would get.
The bartender didn't need to be told twice, running away from the scene in seconds.
Chat didn't move as he stared at the still girl, afraid that the smallest step toward her would set her off. She copied his decision, both of them equally silent as they regarded one another. Him with concern, and her with caution.
"What are you?!" Marinette questioned at last, her sapphire eyes turning hard. "Who are you? What was he? Was he a vampire? Are you one, too?!"
He grimaced at her questions. He really didn't want her to find out like this, when it was still too early and she would undoubtedly be afraid of him.
But he had to answer her truthfully. If he lied now he knew there would be hell to pay later. She told him once that she couldn't stand liars, and he had vowed that he would be the one to never lie to her.
He took a breath before letting it out, the action helping to calm him.
"My real name is Adrien Agreste. And I'm the Crown Prince of Vampires of France."
A/N: So that just happened :)