Hey so I'm not dead guys! Hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you for being so patient and supportive :)

Chapter 12

Marinette leaned her cheek upon her palm, her gaze lifting to see the moon for what felt like the hundredth time that night. She breathed out a heavy sigh, her leg twitching with impatience. She knew she walked out to her balcony close to eleven; it was surely past that by now.

Her eyes narrowed as she gritted her teeth. That mangy cat better not have ditched her.

Then again, her instructor was considered an outlaw. What if he was in trouble? And here she was, only thinking about herself. The threat of having your head cut off constantly looming over your shoulders is nothing compared to being slightly inconvenienced waiting for someone that'll never show.

She bit her lip, already feeling the cold feeling of anxiety creep up in her heart. What if he just wanted to get in one little heist before coming to meet her and got himself captured? Or what if he already did that, but on the way to meet her he ran into some soldiers and they killed him?

His death would be entirely her fault.

Marinette closed her eyes, breathed in deep, then slowly let it out. Her eyes looked toward the moon once more for comfort.

A sense of calm washed over her, her mind dispelling one horrible scenario after another. She always tended to assume the worst, often thinking of ridiculous and sometimes downright impossible ways that something could go wrong.

Chat Noir would be fine, she forced herself to think. He could take care of himself. If he could best Captain Theo in a duel, he could beat anyone. Even if he was surrounded he'd find a way out. It wouldn't do herself any good to worry.

With that thought, she allowed her muscles to relax from their previous tension and closed her eyes, a serene smile on her lips. He would come, she knew he would. And if he was busy, she was sure that he'd seek her out as soon as he could to apologize.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that. It could've been a minute, or two, or three, maybe five or ten. She expected to stay like this for a while.

She didn't expect the tip of a pristine blade to nearly touch her neck.

"Rule number one, Princess," he whispered. She could hear the devilish grin in his voice as it ghosted over the shell of her ear. "Never have your back turned."

She couldn't control the gasp that left her mouth. Damn, he was good at sneaking into places. That's probably why no one has caught him yet. Well, aside from his masterly swordsmanship, that is.

Anyone else would've surrendered when faced in this kind of predicament. With just a flick of his wrist, her blood would stain that beautiful sword.

Sometimes though, she liked to entertain the idea of not being like anyone else.

Her lips curled into a grin. She swatted away the sword, then twirled to pick up her father's from its place leaning against the railing. In one fluid movement, she had the point of her sword aimed at the base of his throat, catching the thief completely unawares.

"Rule number two, kitty," she spoke with a confident smirk. "Don't underestimate your opponent."

Chat Noir grinned. "I have never underestimated your power, Princess. Your eyes alone could kill a man."

Marinette lowered her weapon, a curious brow quirked at his last remark. "Is that a compliment?"

He laughed, then. Thankfully it was low enough that it wouldn't alert her parents from inside. As she listened to the pleasing sound, she wished that it wasn't subdued, even if it was but a little. She rather liked his laugh, especially when it had the mischievous hint to it that it held now.

"That all depends on how you take it, my lady."

She sighed, choosing to let the matter go for now. Why couldn't he just tell her what he meant? He was so infuriating sometimes…

"You're late," she pointed out, lowering the sword and holding it beside her.

Chat Noir frowned, a guilty look replacing his amused look. "I'm sorry. There was another tax collection tonight and the place was crawling with soldiers. It was harder to get away this time."

Marinette sucked in a sharp breath, realizing that her worst fears that night could have nearly come true. She had no idea about this little heist; he could've been killed, and she would have been none the wiser of it.

"You don't have to worry about me, Marinette," he said gently, a corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. She didn't even say anything, was she that easy to read? "They're not going to catch me."

"Don't be so cocky," she advised, her eyes narrowing. Did he not realize the full extent of the danger he was in? "It can happen at any time, which is why you need to be more careful."

"I always am," he argued. His eyebrows were furrowed, an affronted look replacing his soft smile. "I haven't been caught yet."

"Exactly, yet." She crossed her arms, well, as best she could with the sword still in her hand. "People are depending on you, Chat. This kingdom needs you, you're the only hope for many and you can't risk making any mistakes."

"Nice to know that I'm merely a tool, then," he scoffed. "Just a means to an end, right?"

Marinette felt a sharp stab of pure guilt hit her in the heart. She took in the masked outlaw, leaning against her balcony railing with his arms crossed against his chest, his head resolutely turned away and eyes set into a nasty glare.

"Chat," she spoke, just barely above a whisper. Her tone begged him to look at her. Thankfully, he raised his eyes to her, although they were still cold.

She clasped her hands on the hilt of the sword, suddenly feeling very small and nervous for some reason. But she had to make him see that his idea was entirely false. "You know that's not true, right? I'm only telling you this because I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt."

Thankfully, his hard scowl lifted into a softened smile. Marinette felt warmth spike in her stomach at the expression now on his face, it was so…grateful? Yes, that, but there was something else there smoldering in his eyes…

"I care about you too, Marinette," he spoke lowly, reverently. It caused that earlier heat to spike, prompting her to bite her lower lip in uncertainty. She didn't really know what any of this meant. Today she had wondered if he really did care about her and would stick around once all of this was over. Was she just unintentionally given the answer to her question?

"But you have to trust me," he added, spurring her from her thoughts to refocus on the present. He appeared serious, but not in a way to intimidate or frighten her. "You need to trust that I'll always be careful. I'd rather not have you worry about me." He chuckled. "That will only cause me to worry. I promise I'll be safe."

It was endearing that she would have that reaction whenever he performed a robbery or something of the like, but he didn't want her to be stressed. He wished her to live a carefree life; she had already endured nerve-wracking situations just by Theo alone. He just wanted her to be truly happy for once.

Finally, she nodded, visibly sighing and gave him a small smile. "Alright. I'll try to have a little more faith in you," she teased, earning her a laugh from him in return.

It wasn't long after that he straightened and unsheathed his sword. He raised the blade in front of his face before slashing it to his side in a flourish.

"Now then, shall we start the lesson?" he asked with a confident grin.

Marinette matched the expression and nodded, gripping her own sword a little tighter and holding it higher to point it in his direction. "We shall."

"First, before we clash swords, let's fix your stance," he began amusedly. Out of instinct she peered down at her feet, which were in the same position they always were whenever she stood. She must have appeared confused, since he chuckled and made his way behind her.

She tried to ignore their close proximity, especially when he gently guided the arm that wasn't holding her weapon behind her back.

Keep cool, Marinette, she thought whilst holding her breath. It's not like there's an attractive outlaw behind you and touching your arm. Nope.

"Footwork is one of the most essential elements in swordfighting, quite possibly the most important if you wish to win," he explained as he started to nudge her left leg further back. "Too many people think it's just about stabbing the person in front of them by whatever means necessary. But with the right stance and movement-put your right leg out and bend it, yes, just like that. And now bend forward ever so slightly-perfect!"

Not wanting to risk ruining her improved stance, she looked over her shoulder for the rest of whatever he was about to say.

"With the right stance and movement, you will win your battles with grace and fluidity. You won't be making wild stabs and allow yourself an opening for your opponent to take advantage of. Also, you'll be able to dodge without getting tangled up in your feet."

She thought back to her brief duel with Theo. A grimace marred her features and she couldn't help but ask, "did Theo have a good stance?"

A spark of mischief lit his eyes. "Between you and me," he said, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone, "he could use some work."

Marinette giggled, thoroughly amused but immensely satisfied by his viewpoint. Captain Theo, supposedly the most skilled swordsman in their kingdom had to work on his stance, the most basic step in dueling. It was enough to make anyone laugh.

From then on, he taught her other aspects of swordplay, such as attacking and parrying. He helped her with the techniques a few times, all the while making sure his sword never actually came close to injuring her. He was an excellent teacher, always patient and encouraging, even when she messed up some of the footwork for the hundredth time.

She appreciated that he wasn't a stern instructor, too. It wasn't all serious; during their time together, they lightly conversed and sometimes told jokes (although most of the jokes came from Chat's end). Overall, Marinette was both learning and having a fun time.

Thus, she was highly disappointed when he announced that it was late enough into the night and she had better return to bed.

"But I'm wide awake, I can't possibly sleep now!" she protested. It wasn't until after she considered her words that she realized she might have sounded like a petulant child. But that didn't mean that she took back her words, by any means. She was having the time of her life!

Chat Noir returned his sword to his hip and chuckled. "Trust me, you'll regret it in the morning if you stayed up all night out here. We already did that once and I'd rather not have a repeat of it."

Marinette frowned, immediately feeling guilty for not considering his feelings first. For one thing, he had to have been tired after that night. And the next night he didn't spend it resting, but defending her against Theo. He must have been exhausted, yet he fought against it all for her.

And now he's dedicating more of his nights that could be spent resting, to her so he could teach her how to properly wield a sword.

She felt like such an ass.

"I'm sorry, it was rude of me to not consider your fatigue."

He smiled graciously and bowed his head. "There's nothing to forgive. I was the same way when I took up the art of the blade."

She paused, giving him a once-over. He put on a brave face, but if someone took a good look at him, they would see the chinks in the upbeat armor. Like how his shoulders were slightly slumped, the tired grin, or the hint of bags under his eyes.

"You must feel that you have the weight of the entire kingdom resting on your shoulders," she murmured.

Because of Alexandre's mistake of leaving his younger brother Matheo in charge, whoever Chat Noir was had to don his disguise and single-handedly make a difference. As far as she knew he had nobody helping him; she was only distracting him from his duty and taking up his free time. On top of everything else he had to go through, she doubted he wanted to add a troubling suitor and fencing lessons to his list of responsibilities.

"Just call me Atlas," he quipped jokingly with a shrug. His humored grin faltered. "But in all seriousness, it's nothing I can't handle. I'm okay."

"But still," she stressed, crossing her arms together and levelling him with a pointed look. "You're already doing so much to help us; my problems are insignificant compared to yours. I don't want to be a hindrance to you."

His eyes widened, incredulous upon hearing her concern. Did she really think that?

"Do you really think that you're a hindrance to me?"

He could barely believe what he was saying. What did he do to give off that impression?

Marinette's lips pressed into a thin line of obvious discomfort. She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes straying to the balcony railing. Her hands came up to rest on the opposite forearms, as if she was shielding herself for whatever his 'true' opinion might be.

"Marinette," he started and reached for her, then thought better of it and instead moved to stand in front of her. "Look at me."

When she didn't move, he gently guided her chin up with a gloved, crooked finger. She didn't back away, and the move had its desired effect. Guilt-ridden blue eyes met with earnest green, which only solidified his resolve to dispel her concerns for good.

"Matheo and his soldiers are a hindrance to me. Theo is a hindrance…in more ways than one."

She blinked, most likely in confusion about what he added about Theo. But now wasn't the time to explain that. That was a conversation for another night.

"You, Marinette, are not. I like spending time with you. Your problems matter just as much as mine do. It's not a contest."

"But I'm distracting you!" she objected.

"You're not distracting me," he refuted. "I can't always be fighting the bad guys, sometimes I need a break and you're the person I want to spend those breaks with. You're not just another responsibility, you're a person I care about and want to spend any time I can with. Teaching you how to wield a sword? That wasn't some extra task for me, that was time spent doing what I love with someone I-er, with someone without trying to stab them."

He grinned in what he hoped was a humored look, while on the inside he sent a prayer to the heavens above that she wouldn't notice his slip. He mentally breathed a sigh of relief when her lips turned up in a smile and she quietly snorted in amusement.

"What I'm saying is, you're not a hindrance to me, Marinette. And if anything, you're a welcome distraction from the everyday evils of our kingdom. With you, I feel like I'm not an outlaw and we're just in our own little world."

Did that sound lame? Oh God, that was way too cheesy, he should've stopped after his second sentence. And this was going so great too…

"While that last point is beyond cheesy and cliché," she started with a smirk, as he felt his confidence drop lower and lower. "It was sweet."

He perked up, eager to hear her next words. She was smiling, which was a good sign.

"Thank you, Chat. I just didn't want to distract you from your goals, is all. I love spending my time with you too, and I felt that I was selfish for taking up yours."

"You were never selfish." Chancing his luck, he picked up her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Her answering blush prompted a soft smile to curl his lips. "If anyone is selfish around here, it's Matheo."

She laughed. "You have that right."

Chat snickered, and the pair continued like that until the humor began to wind down, and he eventually stepped back to dip into a bow.

"Well, this has certainly been an interesting night, but it's late enough and I'm sure you would like to get some beauty sleep, although I'd hardly say you need it."

He winked roguishly in a way that she couldn't help responding to but to roll her eyes. He didn't need to know that her heartbeat quickened.

"Till tomorrow?" he asked.

She confirmed with a nod. "Tomorrow. Oh, wait! Hold on, I'll be right back!"

Chat watched her run off and disappear into her room, a confused frown on his face. His questions were answered when her head suddenly popped out of the opening leading to the balcony. She hoisted herself up, all while managing to keep her hold on a plate with…were those cookies?

"Here!" she beamed and presented him the plate. "They're our leftover cat's tongue cookies from today. I thought you'd especially like them, you know, because of your name and all." She giggled at her own little joke and held the plate a little closer to him. "Take as many as you want."

"Thank you, Princess. I'm sure they're delicious." He already knew they were, but she didn't need to know how. He picked one off the plate and bit into it, moaning appreciatively which only caused her smile to widen. He took a few more before moving toward the railing, preparing to make his descent.

He bowed again, spoke one final farewell then jumped off to make his way home. Marinette chose to hold in her squeals over what had transpired that night until she made it inside her room, taking her father's sword with her as she went.