The first grin since he'd come through the door split Chat's lips, and he offered her his arm in a gesture of courtesy. She took it after a brief moment of hesitation, seeing the smirk in his smile and wanting to avoid making the same mistake she'd made only seconds before - which Chat didn't miss, based on the new crease in his brow.

He led Ladybug to the opened ballroom doors, where some of the party attendees had already noticed their arrival and were sneaking looks towards them in interest.

Chat stopped them under the entryway and said, out of the corner of his smiling mouth, "Look up."

Confused, Ladybug glanced up and saw the clump of mistletoe hanging above them. In a flash of exasperated insight, she jerked her head away so that her partner's lips only kissed air. Sometimes, she enjoyed playing along with Chat's antics, but she wasn't in the mood at the moment - not with Adrien only a room away.

Chat pouted at her, his eyes playful. "Come on, LB, don't be a bugkill."

Ladybug snorted. "Make another pun and you'll be the one I'm killing. You are a bit of a pest," she joked, leading Chat this time as she walked them out of the doorway and into the ballroom.

"You wound me, my Lady," Chat said with a grin, placing a hand over his heart.

By this time, whispers of their arrival had clearly spread throughout the entire mass of party attendees. Mayor Bourgeois appeared from within the crowd to greet them. He was costumed like a French aristocrat from the eighteenth century with his justaucorps and breeches, although he had no wig. Seeing Chloé at his side, Ladybug eyed her and her peacock-inspired dress. Does she know that she's dressed like a male peacock?

"I'm glad you came, Ladybug, Chat Noir," the mayor said, shaking their hands firmly. "We were getting worried that you were held up somehow."

Wondering over who this 'we' was, Ladybug shook back with equal strength and smiled politely.

Mayor Bourgeois's comment reminded her of Hawk Moth, and she let herself fret for a moment that an akuma might appear amongst all of the city's emotionally-charged New Year's celebrations. She and Chat had discussed the possibility after first receiving the invitations. If an akuma appeared, they would already be prepared and transformed. And who else would learn earliest about a rampaging danger other than Paris's elite?

But the thought of them being wrong somehow - and enjoying themselves at a party while they were at it - still itched at Ladybug's conscience. And yet there wasn't much she could do about it at this point.

"I'm glad to be here," she replied, feeling as if she was lying through her teeth.

Her smile was convincing enough to fool the mayor, who cheerfully smiled back in return and led the two farther into the throng of partygoers.

"Your dress is absolutely stunning, Ladybug. A Mandarin gown?"

"Thank you, and yes; I'm part-Chinese."

"Ah, I see! It's good that you can show off your heritage so proudly."

Mayor Bourgeois soon shifted to another topic, but Ladybug found herself distracted by Chloé, who strangely seemed to be anxious as the girl almost constantly scanned the people around them with darting eyes. What was she looking for? And why was she so worried about it? Chloé hasn't even tried to talk to me yet, Ladybug realized, even though she's a big fan of me. While the idolization usually irritated her, this time the lack of it felt like a cause for alarm.

Not necessarily saying that she cared about Chloé. But as Ladybug, she was duty-bound to protect every citizen, and out-of-place behavior was like a flashing warning sign.

"… similarities, don't you think?"

Ladybug blinked at Mayor Bourgeois, who seemed to be waiting expectantly for an answer from her.

"Oh, yes," she said automatically, not quite sure what she was agreeing with; although after noticing Chat looking at her right afterwards like she'd gone crazy, Ladybug decided that she'd better start paying attention to the mayor's words. Chloé could probably wait.

However, she found herself getting distracted again as she herself began casting searching glances around them. Soon, Ladybug spotted Gabriel Agreste near one wall of the room talking to a stunningly-dressed, matching pair of men. So the Agreste family was indeed attending.

And yet, as she continued to look around, she couldn't spot a single sign of Adrien. Noticing Chloé again out of the corner of her eyes, Ladybug suddenly wondered if Adrien's apparent absence was causing all of the girl's worry.

The mayor was still chattering away. "Uh-huh," she prompted him absently, again not sure what he was saying anymore.

If Gabriel Agreste was here, so was his son. With this event's status, there was no justification for Adrien to be absent from it, barring illness or some other emergency. And Ladybug was sure that nothing of that sort had happened, if Chloé's Facebook updates throughout the day had been anything to go by.

But if that was true, then where had Adrien gone?

Despite the fact that the mayor was speaking, Chat Noir could barely pay attention when he was walking right next to an angel.

Okay, if Ladybug heard me think that, she would actually kill me, he thought, shoving his gloved hands into his trouser pockets and gazing surreptitiously at his partner out of the corner of his eyes. So don't say it out loud, Adrien. Don't.

She really did look like an angel though, if angels came down to earth in crimson red silk embroidered gold, black spots, and gossamer insect wings. Chat had to fight hard to not outright stare - the floor-length qipao hugged Ladybug's form snugly, and as they and the mayor cut through the crowd of partygoers, the thigh-high slits in her skirt were exposing glimpses of bare, toned leg at every other step. At this rate, Chat would need a fire extinguisher for his face.

"You know some of the things I have to deal with as mayor of Paris," Mayor Bourgeois was saying to Ladybug. He was ignoring Chat Noir - not that he minded at the moment, as distracted as he was. "Responsibility is a heavy burden."

On one hand, Chat was frustrated by his fluster. Ladybug's normal suit was literally skintight; how did a dress suddenly make her so much more attractive? Was he that shallow? He didn't think he was.

And yet. For the first time since they'd known each other, he was seeing her with her hair down. It fell to her shoulders in loose black curls, pinned in places with ivory-white barrettes, that made his fingers itch to pull off their gloves and find out how soft they were. A pair of red ribbons still extended from her hair, but these were almost as long as his Lady was tall and sided with black on one side, draping over her decorative ladybug wings in a way that made Chat suspect that wires were involved. Her delicate hands - deceptively so; Chat had seen them judo-flip too many akumas to be fooled anymore - wore black gloves to the wrist, thin and gossamer and accented gold at the cuffs. Her mask, Miraculous earrings, and yo-yo were the only thing that remained unchanged, but that only served to make her even more recognizable.

Ladybug looked stunning. Even the fact that he'd already been rejected tonight couldn't put a damper on his mood. Chat wanted to cup her face in his hands. He wanted to pull her to his side right now and color his lips with her glossy red lipstick.

But if I do that, he thought with no small amount of wistfulness, I run a high risk of death by first-degree murder.

It would almost be worth it, too.

"I imagine that your responsibilities as Paris's heroes feel just as heavy," the mayor continued. "It gives us many similarities, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes."

Ladybug's reply yanked Chat from his thoughts. He eyed her in bewilderment. It wasn't that the mayor's talk was all politically-motivated drivel - although it was - so much as that she was agreeing for some—

Wait, Chloé?

Chat was nearly ashamed that he hadn't noticed Chloé walking with them beside her father. He spotted her distress as quickly as Ladybug had, but he also knew without a doubt the reason for it - Chloé knew that Adrien had gone missing. He looked again at Ladybug, seeing her scan the crowd around them with piercing eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Chloé finally murmur something to her father and leave his side to join the rest of the party.

Anxiety formed into a lump in his gut.

This wasn't good. If Ladybug caught on to the fact that an invitee had disappeared, she would make a fuss - and then everyone would know that Adrien Agreste had gone missing.

Damn, Chat thought, arms tensing at his sides. Just when the night was becoming fun… I knew this was too risky, attending as two people. I should've begged off coming with Father.

Nevertheless, he kept walking beside the mayor and Ladybug; what else could he do? He was almost ill with apprehension; it felt like he could only wait for the inevitable moment when Ladybug would stop and shatter his fragile attempt at juggling two well-known identities.

Chat glanced up ahead and saw the string quartet for the first time that night, playing one of their pieces. The music was faintly familiar - he might have played an adaptation of it on the piano before - and as the music rose in a slow, grand crescendo, Chat could tell that it was nearing its end.

He frowned when he saw a grand piano on the same platform, its lid propped open. An accident of poor planning, he guessed - string quartets didn't have a pianist, after all.

But maybe it was also a happy accident.

When the idea occurred to him, Chat's eyes locked onto the piano's keyboard, hidden under the black fallboard. It probably wouldn't be proper, he thought, fingers wanting to twitch in sudden anticipation, but cats aren't meant to be gentlemen. It would be the perfect distraction.

And the perfect way to show off, he added in a deeper, fervid part of his mind - because surely his Lady would be impressed to discover over ten years of piano playing up her stray alley cat's sleeves.

Butterflies of excitement fluttered in Chat's stomach at the thought. All his normal cheer restored, he began to take longer, confident strides, walking ahead of Ladybug and Mayor Bourgeois towards the piano and string quartet.

"Chat?" he heard his Lady chirp in confusion behind him.

He glanced back and bared a full-toothed grin. Just enjoy the show, my Lady.

Ladybug caught a brief glimpse of his teasing smirk, broad and infuriating, and then he was gone. She puffed out a breath of exasperation. What in the world was that silly kitty planning?

She wanted to hurry after him, but the mayor's presence held her back.

"I'm sorry, Mayor Bourgeois," she apologized, turning to him. "I have no idea what Chat's up to - I need to follow him. Maybe we can talk later?"

"Of course, my dear," the mayor replied gallantly.

Ladybug had to suppress a shudder as she turned away - the added term of affection had felt patronizing to the point of offense out of that man's mouth. I need to discourage it in the future, she decided, automatically excepting Chat - he was different, after all. She knew he respected her.

Leaving the mayor to talk to another of his kind, Ladybug scanned the crowds for Chat. He was near-freakishly tall and the only person here wearing cat ears - he would be easy to spot, and she was not disappointed.

He was on the musicians' platform. They had stopped playing, and Chat was now writing on something on the cellist's music stand - an autograph, she assumed - while chatting with her and the other musicians amicably. The cellist, a young woman in an enviously well-tailored suit, was blushing in a very familiar way, and Ladybug groaned to herself. Who knows how much damage control I'll have to do if he seduces that poor girl?

Resolved, she waded through the crowd towards them.

"… feel free. We're due for a break anyway," the lead violinist was saying to Chat as Ladybug approached. "'Sides, not as if one can say 'no' to a local superhero." He was a brunet as well-dressed as the cellist, and had startlingly keen hazel eyes that made contact with hers as soon as she was in view. He nodded at her, and Ladybug did the same, too surprised to do anything else.

Chat followed the violinist's gaze and grinned when he saw her. "This is Ladybug," he said, taking her hand to help her onto the platform.

Ladybug was amused by this - the platform wasn't even a third of a meter off the ballroom floor - but she refrained from pulling away and gave him the usual look when he continued holding her hand for a few seconds too long. He only flashed an innocent smile at her again and withdrew.

"They can probably guess, Chat," Ladybug pointed out, "considering my ladybug motif. And the mask."

"Well, now they know for certain."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at him, smiling.

"Pleasure to meet you, miss." the brunet violinist greeted, holding out his hand. When she shook it, he gripped firmly. "Name's Logan. I'm the first violinist."

"I'm the second," a woman beside him added. She had a mass of curly blonde hair that looked like it was fought into its current state of a ponytail. "Ilona. But everyone knows I'm better than Logan. He's just first because his last name sounds better as the name of our ensemble group."

Logan shrugged as if it was true.

"Victoire," said the second woman, combing a hand through her boy-short auburn hair. She had a small stud piercing on the side of her nose and multiple unoccupied holes in her ears. "But I go by Vic. I'm the violist."

The cellist waved shyly from her chair. She was clearly the youngest of the group. "Hi. I'm Celia. I'm the cellist, if you couldn't tell by my really large instrument case."

Chat beamed at Ladybug as if he'd just proudly shown her something.

She rolled her eyes at him again - honestly, Chat - before smiling at the others. "It's nice to meet all of you. Were you hired by Mayor Bourgeois to play here tonight?"

"Yeah," Logan said. "Although we're about to take a break. Your friend wants to play the piano for a while, apparently."

Ladybug's brow wrinkled in confusion, and then she frowned. "Chat? Please don't tell me he just said what I think he just said."

Chat wandered over to the grand piano and pulled out the bench. "He didn't meow a word you don't want to hear, my Lady," he said breezily, sitting down to face the piano. He laced his fingers together and stretched them out to pop the joints.

Ladybug stared at him flatly.

Chat lifted up the fallboard and grinned down at the octaves of white and black keys. "Not a single speck of dust," he observed. "What is your secret?"

As Logan and the other musicians strolled off the platform, Ladybug stalked over to Chat, placing her hands down on the cheek of the piano and glowering. "Kitty. You are not going to play on the piano," she said sharply. "You'll embarrass us."

"Your lack of faith wounds me, my Lady. But don't worry, I'm sure yule log this."

Ladybug eyed Chat in incredulity as he gazed down at the keys and tapped at one of them with a clawed finger. The note rang out, soft and almost inaudible over the general noise of the party.

Chat hummed, matching the pitch of the note. "Not bad."

He paused for a moment, settling his right hand onto the middle of the keyboard, and then, with abruptly blistering speed, played a simple scale. Ladybug gaped as he did the same with his left, an octave lower.

She didn't know anything about playing a piano, but the easy grace with which his fingers handled the keys, the way his shoulders and arms relaxed into the notes and grew as limber as they did wielding a staff instead, made it obvious to her that Chat knew exactly what he was doing - and that he knew it well.

He finally glanced over, eyebrows raised, and smirked at the sight of her wide-open mouth. Ladybug snapped it closed, glaring to make up for her shock.

Chat's grin grew wider, and Ladybug thought she could hear him say it already: Still think I'll be an empurrassment, my Lady? Doesn't my playing sound pawleasing to your ears?

But to her surprise, Chat defied her expectations; instead of speaking, he turned back to the piano and began to breeze his way through an arpeggio.

Watching him, Ladybug was struck by how familiar his expression was - the same subtle, intent focus she'd seen so many times in the midst of a fight - and yet they weren't meters away from the latest akuma; they weren't battling a horde of unlucky, mind-controlled civilians.

Chat was playing arpeggios on a piano. She hadn't known he could do that. She'd never even considered it, never even entertained the notion that Chat Noir had hobbies, things that he enjoyed doing as much as he was enjoying himself now, besides flirting with every girl he meets or plotting out a future as a professional stand-up comedian.

The thought - or rather, how little thought Ladybug had ever given her kitty - was like the smallest dagger of guilt slipping through her ribs.

You can't blame me, she retorted to herself, watching Chat's hands finally stop their fluid movements, for never thinking about his civilian life. We're not supposed to; what if we discovered the other by accident? And it's not like Chat's ever acted like the piano-playing type to—

Notes suddenly bellowed out of the innards of the grand piano, making Ladybug's hands quiver from the vibrations. She almost jumped three meters off the platform.

"Chat," she gasped, heart racing a thousand beats per second.

Chat was focused utterly on the piano, eyes narrowing and - god, his tongue was poking out - fingers flying across the keys faster than the eye could follow. Chords soon reverberated through the air like thunder, the strength of it snatching the surprised breath out of Ladybug's lungs, until Chat's left hand fumbled once and then suddenly an entire ascending line of notes collapsed in on itself, like one massive, crashing tumble down the stairs that left the stunned silence of the ballroom in its wake.

Ladybug finally sucked in air. She felt almost giddy with the music still trembling in her hands, now fastened like glue to the wood of the cheek.

"Well, damn. This piano's definitely louder than mine." Chat laughed, ignorant of the hush his audience had fallen into. "I can't believe I got that far without screwing it up." He looked at Ladybug, his grin pure exhilarated joy, and a corner of it went up higher in a tease. "But I do have my own lucky charm standing right beside me."

His cheer was utterly infectious, and Ladybug giggled in spite of herself. "As if I belong to you, silly kitty," she quipped, chastising.

Chat's grin grew wider, but then his eyes shifted to a point beyond her and widened; he'd remembered the existence of the rest of the party. They'd already returned to their conversations, but a few corners were still quiet with surprise while others had gone especially lively, and some of the last made it obvious that they were talking about him.

"Shit," he finally breathed, eyes flickering back up to Ladybug. "They heard everything I said, didn't they?"

Ladybug smiled. "Yep."

Chat groaned as if ashamed, but the cheer from before refused to leave his face and altogether ruined the effect. "At least I impressed them," he murmured. "Still think I'll be a—"

"Finish that sentence and this lid comes down," Ladybug said, tapping the upright fallboard with her fingers.

"Meow-ch!" Chat jerked his hands away from the keys, eyes twinkling. "I'd call humbug on your bluff, LB, but I doubt you're kitten around this time."

Ladybug growled at him, but he only grinned.

"It's called a fallboard by the way, not a 'lid', my dear, classically-illiterate Ladybug," he added. Placing his left hand back onto the keys, Chat idly began to play chords, the notes soft again. The fact that Ladybug could recognize them as being from the piece he'd blasted out not two minutes before only made the dynamic contrast more obvious.

"What was that song you played?" she asked, bracing her elbows against the cheek of the piano as she leaned in.

Chat's fingers didn't falter, but she could hear the hesitation in his awkward cough. "'Guren no Yumiya'," he muttered.

Ladybug blinked. "Pass that by me again?"

"'Guren no Yumiya'? First opening of Attack on Titan?" Chat turned to peer at her and grinned at her lack of recognition. "What, not an anime fan, my Lady?"

"It never really caught my interest."

Chat made a noise somewhere between a choke and a snort, incredulous. "Never really caught your interest," he repeated as if this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.

Ladybug stood up straight and glowered, crossing her arms. "I do have a busy life, you know."

"And I have one too. Purrobably even busier than yours. No excuse!" Chat grinned and winked, turning back to the grand piano to plink at the keys. "Bugaboo, I simply must introduce you to the world of anime one day."

"If the akuma's kind enough to wait a couple hours, maybe."

Ladybug immediately regretted her words. She could see the cheerful light in Chat's eyes die the smallest fraction as he stared down at the keyboard, even if the smile remained. No matter how much he liked to pretend otherwise, they only knew each other because of the akumas.

The secrets bothered Chat. He wanted to tear those walls down. In fact, he had never wanted them in the first place.

But they were necessary, and he knew that too, right?

Chat was one of her dearest friends. In a way, she trusted him like no one else in her life. She didn't want him to think she took him for granted.

Ladybug opened her mouth, intent on saying something to apologize.

But Chat, who had decided to withdraw into silence, began to play another piece on the piano. He was playing gentle, solemn triplets in a minor key with surprising intensity, expressionless but for the stiff frown on his face, and it took a moment for Ladybug to finally close her mouth. It felt like a door had just been shut in her face, but he hadn't turned the lock. Give me some breathing room, my Lady, she could hear in the music. I'll be fine in a moment.

Ladybug let out a breath of frustration - not with him, but with herself. Unable to do anything else, she finally braced her arms against the cheek again to listen to her partner's music.

Every moment like this made the decision to hide their real identities feel like a mistake. But they had to - what if their identities were revealed? The mere thought of reporters swarming her parents' bakery with cameras and microphones (and Alya's reaction) made Ladybug want to recoil in horror.

But you're partners, a side of her whispered, a mix of her own voice and Tikki's. Partners. Don't you trust him? He wouldn't spill your secret for anything.

Inwardly, Ladybug scowled. That same argument always appeared whenever she started thinking about this problem as a problem. Accidents happen, she snapped back, following the usual script. And I know Chat wouldn't do it on purpose. I do trust him. It's other people that I don't trust. It's Hawkmoth that I don't trust.

Maybe, the voice said back, and this time, it used a different tactic. But you saw how he's been looking at you for the entire party.

She had. And in favor of the other issues that had been in her mind, she'd completely ignored them.

(And ignored how thinking too hard about those flickers of his glance, constant and vibrantly green and almost hungry in the moments that he thought she hadn't noticed, made her breath want to catch and her heart skip and stutter and leap rebelliously because she was in love with Adrien, dammit.)

You know the real reason why you don't want to tell Chat who you are.

Ladybug's thoughts stiffened, as far as thoughts could stiffen. She refused to think a single word along the lines of that "reason" entirely. It was too selfish and embarrassing.

He has a crush on you. But that only makes you want to cower behind the mask even more. Because without it, would he still—

Ladybug shoved the thoughts out of her mind, taking a deep, stubborn breath, and forced herself to re-attune to her surroundings. Chat had apparently finished the first piece and transitioned into a song that was familiar to her this time, although it took a moment for her to recognize it as "My Heart Will Go On", from Titanic - she could still remember using up an entire tissue box with Alya after seeing the 3D re-release. Chat knows this song?

Of course such a ridiculous, romantic flirt like him had seen the movie. Ladybug couldn't help but smile at the image of her partner sitting in a dim theater, who she could only imagine in costume, blubbering and blowing his nose as the credits rolled.

She didn't realize her eyes had been closed until she opened them and found them meeting green.

Chat was gazing at her. His fingers were still playing the music, undeterred and beautifully flawless. For a split second, he was still looking at her, he was still secure in the knowledge that no one was watching; and looking back at him was like looking at his heart lain bare.

Ladybug tore her eyes away from his, dropping them to her arms still braced against the piano, her heart simultaneously soaring endlessly up and plunging down to the floor. She was suddenly breathless; she didn't notice how the next notes Chat played were stammered from trembling fingers.

No. Ladybug squeezed her eyes shut again, distraught. I will not fall in love with Chat. I love Adrien. He's perfect - the perfect boy. He's so sweet, and selfless, and handsome, and kind…

But when she tried to summon up images of Adrien Agreste, her memories of magazine covers and school days spent in longing blurred and faltered and fluttered away. All she could think of instead was the breakneck pace of the chase beside him, of seamless synchrony and sidelong glances that could convey entire battle plans; his seemingly inexhaustible reserves of clever puns and flirty remarks, and the moments when he would reach their limits and leave the 'why' stubbornly unspoken. Most of all, Ladybug could see Chat - playing the piano as if the music was meant for her, gazing endlessly at her like she was all he needed to live, with a gentle, curving smile and soft, soft eyes.

The quiet, hopeless longing that she could still see embracing his every feature made Ladybug shiver with a sudden desire to kiss his heartbreak away, and she clenched her hands into conflicted fists.

She was spiraling down, down, down into emotions she wasn't sure she wanted; for the first time, she wondered if she'd already been halfway over the edge.

Fingertips, sharp under the gloves and infinitely delicate, touched her cheek, and Ladybug looked up to see Chat gazing at her again, apologetically this time, with the same soft, soft eyes that only made her head spin until she couldn't tell up from down. Heat bloomed like a desert flower from deep inside her gut, burning away the last of her resistance.

"Sorry, LB," Chat murmured, unable to help glancing away for a moment in shame before looking back at her. "I'm really sorry. I just… Sorry if I made you mad."

Ladybug giggled nervously, breathlessly. He had no idea. "No, it's fine," she managed in a bare whisper, mouth dry. "I'm… perfectly peachy." She couldn't stop falling into his eyes.

Chat's eyes widened and he swallowed, finally noticing her intent gaze.

He didn't move his hand. Ladybug didn't twitch an inch.

After a long, heavy pause, Chat's hand moved to cup her face, which Ladybug didn't react to except to close her eyes, her entire world becoming the heat of his palm against her cheek.

Slowly, hesitantly - as if he was afraid of doing something wrong - Chat caressed her cheekbone with his thumb, right along the edge of her mask, and Ladybug shivered involuntarily, her face flushing pink to the tips of her ears as she leaned in to his touch.

Chat's breath was brushing her lips now. In a distant part of her mind, she recalled the one time they had kissed before, during Dislocœur's rampage - definitely impossible to compare to now, as Chat rested his forehead against hers, still cupping her face with one hand. Both their breaths were coming faster now, hot and sweet, and Ladybug could almost feel the tip of his nose grazing hers.

She longed with an almost physical hurt to lean in and close the space between them, but she was already lying across the cheek of the piano - any farther and she would probably faceplant into the keyboard.

It would almost be worth it, too.

"My Lady." The almost inaudible words ghosted across Ladybug's lips, drawing out a shudder from her as she fell, fell into his hands which both tenderly cradled her face now, but his mouth remained achingly elusive.

"I," Chat breathed. "My Lady, only if you really want to—"

"Please."

It was Chat's turn to shiver this time. Ladybug lifted one of her own hands to touch his face, feeling as much as hearing a soft, steady purr begin to rumble from his throat at the contact. Stroking her face with his thumbs again, Chat finally began to tilt her face upwards to his.

He didn't get any farther than that before there was the massive sounds of shattering glass and screams. They both jumped in shock, foreheads painfully knocking into each other, and Ladybug's arms slipped from the piano cheek. She thumped onto the floor of the platform with a surprised wheeze.

"Shit." Chat shoved his way out from behind the piano bench, grabbing his staff from behind his back as he reached down to Ladybug with his other hand. "My Lady, are you okay?"

She couldn't help but notice how flushed his face was. "Peachy," Ladybug said, mind still half-stuck on the past few minutes as she took his hand and was hauled back up.

Another scream, familiar this time, drew their attention, and they looked as one to see that the noise had come from one of the chandeliers, which was now smashed against the ballroom floor. It only took a moment for Ladybug to register that several people had been injured by the glass before she looked farther and saw the akuma standing by the ballroom entrance.

"Hawkmoth has appawlling timing," Chat grumbled, and tightened his grip on Ladybug's hand. "We didn't even get to dance."

A/N:

sorry for taking two months to get this out, go ahead and splatter me with tomatoes i am ready

on another note, the next chapter will be the last! it will also take a while to get out bc i'm working on something for the miraculous march event, but once i'm finished with that i'll get crackin' (and i think you'll like it (; )