Chat Noir dragged his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time, and paced away from the petite girl in the lounger. "Mari, please, just let it go."
"No." Marinette crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, and glared. "That's abuse, Chat, and it's not ok."
"I'm not abused!" Chat Noir threw up his hands in exasperation. "He's never once lifted a hand to me, or allowed anyone else to do so either."
"Neglect is abuse."
"I haven't been neglected. I've never wanted for anything a day in my life."
"Except time, love, and attention." He flinched, and her expression softened. "You don't have to hit someone to hurt them, and not all scar tissue exists in the open where anyone can see it."
"Damnit, Mari," he growled. "I regret ever saying anything to you about it."
"Well the cat's out of the bag now, you stubborn cat. Why won't you talk to someone about this? Someone who could help you."
He scoffed. "It doesn't matter now, I'll be 18 next week."
Marinette cursed foully under her breath, and Chat's brows rose in surprise. "You father is lucky that I don't know who you are under that mask, Chaton."
"Jesus, would you settle down already?"
"No, because fuck him," she ranted. "No child should be treated like that, and especially not you. God, I thought Adrien's home life was bad."
"Shit." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. One day revealing himself to her just got more complicated.