Chat Noir sat on the chaise lounge, legs splayed, with Marinette snuggled between them, focused completely on the knitting needles in her hand, the click clacking of the metal on metal soothing in the quiet of the room.

Chat contentedly braided her hair before releasing it, twisting it into randomised patterns and allowing the silken strands to slip between his clawed fingers. He wished he could feel how soft her hair was, but contented himself with the peacefulness of the moment.

"Chat?" Marinette broke the silence, startling the hero from his musings. He hummed in response, continuing his ministrations.

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" she asked, still diligently knitting away. Chat stopped what he was doing, staring incredulously at the back of her head. Didn't the whole of Paris already know?

"Well, yeah," he agreed finally, picking strands of her hair up again to plait.

"Have you ever confessed your feelings?" she continued, starting a new line on whatever she was creating. Chat hadn't thought to ask what it was she was knitting.

"I... uh... not in so many words," Chat allowed, scrunching up his nose. "I'm more of an actions speak louder kind of a guy. I mean, I try to show Ladybug," he didn't notice how Marinette's shoulders stiffened on hearing the hero's name, "that she is the most important person in the world to me. It's why I always take every hit, I couldn't bare to see her get hurt. I love her. So I flirt with her, and compliment her, and try to spend as much time as I can with her. I wish I knew who she was under the mask so that I knew all of her."

Marinette shifted round to face him, putting her needles to the side.

"B-but you don't know... so how can you say you love her?"

Chat shook his head, his brows drawn in concentration.

"I'm not the same behind the mask. I'm not brash, or loud, or flirtatious. I suspect maybe it's the same for her. Maybe she's not as confident, not as confrontational, not as graceful. When I first met her, she introduced herself as 'Madly Clumsy'. But, her heart is the same. She's still brave, because even when she was afraid, she stepped up to do the right thing for the good of Paris. She's kind and cares about me, even if it's not in the same way. I don't think any of that would go away just because she takes off her costume," he finished. Chat felt strangely lighter having said all this out loud.

"What if she turns out to be Chloe Bourgeois?" Marinette questioned, pulling a face that made Chat laugh. Then he sighed.

"If she were, then I guess I have to believe that deep down, Chloe is those things too. That maybe the Chloe that everyone sees, the Chloe that has caused more akumas than the rest of Paris combined, the Chloe that bullies classmates and hangs off Adrien Agreste like a limpet, really is a good person," he smirked at Marinette playfully. "Luckily for me, I know for a fact she isn't. I've dealt with Ladybug and Chloe together."

Marinette looked down at her lap, her face a mask of so many emotions, Chat couldn't identify any of them.

"What about you, Princess, any boy vying to take your attention away from this needy cat?"

Marinette looked over to her wall, where her posters of Adrien used to be, before Chat Noir had started paying her visits, sneaking via her balcony and straight into her heart.

"I used to like Adrien Agreste," she admitted, smiling softly to herself and leaning back, snuggling against Chat's broad chest.

At the mention of his alter ego, Chat had frozen stiff, shocked at the revelation, but allowed himself to melt into her, nuzzling her sweet smelling hair. He loved the easy friendship that had developed with Marinette with him as Chat Noir. She was the one person who he could tell anything to, and have her actually listen.

Completely comfortable with each other, physical, platonic intimacy was common for them, and his cat like nature (as well as the unloved boy) craved the contact, relished in it. They would often cuddle on the chaise to watch films, or she would give him pets, or he would play with her hair. When he was here, they were almost always touching in some way. It was almost unconscious, but it filled a hole in both of them that neither even knew was there.

"You don't anymore?" he asked, trying to deny the pang he felt.

"Hmm... I don't know. I'm starting to think that maybe I don't really know him. Not really, you know? Like, we're friends, but I've been in love with him almost from day one. But how can it be love if you don't really know a person? I think maybe I was just infatuated."

"Just a pretty-boy model then?" Chat asked, and with her back to him, she didn't see his glum expression. She shook her head, quick to deny.

"I fell for his kindness and generosity, his humility and his loyalty to his friends. Mostly though, I fell in love with his laugh," she let out a giggle herself. "Who does that? Who falls in love with a laugh?"

Chat joined in with her laughter, suddenly self conscious as he did so. He quickly stopped, then chided himself for being silly.

"What would you say if Ladybug was sat right here as a civilian?" Marinette turned around, suddenly feeling bold.

Chat Noir looked at her, taking in her freckled nose and clear blue eyes, seeing her almost as if for the first time. He didn't need to even think about it.

"I love you."

Marinette edged closer, keeping her eyes fixed on his. Chat couldn't even blink to break the contact. He felt completely spellbound by the moment.

Almost as if trying not to startle him, Marinette slowly drew closer to his face, flicking her eyes down to his lips before looking back into his bright green orbs. His adam's apple bobbed nervously in his throat. Lightly, she placed her lips on his, her kiss soft and fleeting.

"I love you too, Chaton."