Firstly, I want to thank everyone that sent me kind words yesterday! They really cheered me up and made me feel better. You're all so lovely, thank you for the support xx

Now, as soon as I post this, I'll be replying to all comments I got lately. I was also asked for sin pt. 2, but I don't know how to sin without raising the rating to M. Softcore sin is to come, then.

And here you see me lying on the floor wishing Chat was my bf. See ya

v: trust me

It is snowing already, and Marinette knows that there are other places in the world that get more than just a few inches of snow every winter, but still... It is snowing.

And Marinette does not like the cold.

She has a scarf up to her nose and wears the warmest coat she could find in her wardrobe, her hair is loose and she found an old beanie with – surprise – cat ears from when she was younger to keep her own very human ears warm, but the wind against her face is anything but pleasant. Chat leaps from roof to roof with her on his back and he claims not to be bothered by the temperature at all, but she doubts it. The skin of her lips feels like its breaking apart thanks to the cold weather, so she buries her face on the back of his neck and grins at the yelp he lets out when her cold nose touch his skin.

Wherever he is taking her right now, she muses, has to be worth leaving her comfortable bed. For the first time in forever, Marinette left her home without her red Kwami; Tikki was just as reluctant to leave as her mistress, and so Marinette decided to let her sleep. She doubted an akuma would attack in a night like this – or any time at all during winter. Besides, someone had to watch after Noire.

Chat picked the name for her female cat himself, pronouncing it with a wide grin that rivaled one of a child who has just learned how to spell their own name. She was not surprised, and while the name was as cliché as naming a white cat Snow, she accepted. Noire was still not fully grown yet, but could already climb up the steps to the loft, and she would sleep by her feet, or curled by her waist, or in the middle of the bed, leaving Marinette much too close to the wall. Noire also seemed to like Chat more, much to her owner's chagrin, probably because the later could meow like a real feline would – and could play exactly as one as well.

Her boyfriend – boyfriend? They never called each other as such before – tells her to hold on tight as they near the Eiffel Tower. Her grip around him can be suffocating, yet she keeps her eyes wide open as he nimbly moves upwards towards the top, catching blurred glimpses of the city she grew up in. The temperature seems to drop the higher they get, and the winds are harsher too. She has to grind her teeth together to keep them from chattering and wishes her gloves were thick enough to keep her hands warm.

They stop at the very tip of the tower and Chat crouches down, moving her to the front of his body, arms wrapped tightly around her shivering form. Despite the fact that she wants to curse him for whisking her away from her many blankets, Marinette has to admit that the view is breathtaking. She has seen Paris from this height many times before, but seeing it now covered in snow, with all the lights so bright and his arms around her makes it more special. She does not stop for one second to ponder how he can balance the both of them without leaning sideways once, or how his legs might be screaming in pain when she loses track of time. Marinette just stares at the city, mouth agape, unaware of his gaze so focused on her face.

Chat nuzzles her behind the ear, causing her to shiver, and whispers in a loving tone. "Happy eight month anniversary." This is his gift to her, and all she had offered earlier in the evening was eclairs that did not turn out to be as tasty as her father's.

Marinette melts into his embrace, head falling back to rest on his shoulder, blue eyes meeting his striking green ones. "Thank you." One of her hands reach up to caress his cheek and he leans into her touch. "Happy eight month anniversary."

He wants to kiss her so badly and it is easy to see it written across his features, but given their position it is best not to, so they settle for watching the scenery. They talk about whatever comes to mind, laugh at one thing or another and grow silent again. His nose is hidden in her scarf and he takes in her scent; this time she smells of apple blossoms, a perfume he recognizes well because he was the one to present it to her. Her flowing hair brushes his cheekbones and he finds himself too captivated by her. Chat is glad that they turned out to be great friends after a rocky start, and he is even gladder that they are together now, even though she does not realize it.

His hand finds hers and the entwine their fingers, each one looking at something different. "My Princess."

"Yes, Chat?"

"No," she says with a slight shake of his head. "My Princess."

She laughs, her pink painted lips stretch into a wide grin and her ribcage shakes. "Yes, Chat." Marinette tilts her head to face him and their noses almost touch. "Your princess."

He smiles, eyes sliding closed, and his heart feels like it is going to burst. "My Princess, may I surprise you with something?"

"Don't you always surprise me?"

Chat nods. It is true; he is always giving her gifts whenever an opportunity pops up. "It's different this time." She seems to ponder his words, lips twisting as she thinks it through, and he waits quietly until his agitation starts to show. "Do you trust me?"

Her face goes blank and she ceases breathing for a second. He can read it in her face, what the hell kind of question is this?, but keeps quiet as her eyes slowly slide back to meet with his. "Well," Marinette starts, "I feel like you're asking me if I need to breathe to live."

He kisses the corner of her lips, the closer he can get to a real kiss for now. "You'll like it." She makes a disbelieving noise, but smiles anyway and voices that she is too cold to remain in that spot for much longer.

The trip down the Eiffel Tower is slow and cautious, though Chat says he wants to go faster so she can reunite with her bed sooner. He makes up for it when they reach the ground, pulling out his baton and sending them to the nearest rooftop as he breaks into yet another run. Marinette's breath fans his ears, warming them up from the cold, and his entire body seems to light up on fire. The exertion from running is nothing compared to how he feels when she is this close and accidentally does something that he finds pleasing, and it is not his rapidly moving legs that make the first traces of sweat appear by his hairline. She huffs against the shell of his ear when he lands awkwardly on another house and Chat keeps on running so he will not stop to do something else.

They reach her balcony, her plants are leafless and the ground is covered in white. Chat helps her down the trap door and sticks only his upper body into her room, looking at her with a foolish grin on his face. Marinette finally kisses him, it is slow and sweet and different for he is hanging upside down, and he finds out that he likes it very, very much.

"Go to bed, my Princess." She pulls away with a smile that is almost timid and her cheeks are flushed from the cold – or from embarrassment. "I'll come back as soon as I can."

Chat blows her a kiss and closes the trap door, and stands on the metal railing for a brief moment. He can hear her talking, and her voice is followed by the meow of Noire. His ears flicker lightly when a third, smaller voice joins the conversation, but he brushes it away as his imagination and leaps towards his home where his own cat, the Siamese one, waits for him.