"If Paris knew what a bad kitty you were, they might not think so highly," Marinette commented lazily, watching as he ran his tongue over his lips again.
Blond brows raising above the mask, Chat Noir shifted his gaze to her eyes. "What do you mean, My Lady?" Resting his chin on her knees, he peered up at her with an incredulous expression, though his fingers still trailed leisurely over the side of her calves. "I'm not that bad."
"Chat," Marinette sighed, twisting little golden locks away from his eyes. "You ate all of my family's croissants. Literally, all of them."
Gloved hands flew to his heart, and his face seemed even more surprised than before. "My Lady!" He exclaimed, flicking his chin over his shoulder so his messy bangs would follow. "I was hungry, you can't deny a starving cat his meal."
His nose stuck up and arms folded, Chat Noir embodied the epitome of a sassy, stubborn cat. She could practically see his whispers twitching in disbelief.
"You're a glutton, Chat Noir!" Marinette quipped, flicking the underside of his jaw.
"So is your family, then." He remarked, tucking his chin down and away. "What did you need 50 croissants for anyway?"
Marinette deadpanned, the look of utter ridiculousness crossing her cheeks. "My family owns a bakery, silly cat."
One eye peeked open, and his iris traveled to her without moving his head. "Eheh, right…." Shaking his head, with a little tsk of his tongue, Chat Noir rested his gaze back on Marinette. Wide, waiting eyes met his, her toes tapping and cherry stained lips pressed together. Offering a wide, Cheshire grin, Chat Noir wrapped his arms around her legs and squeezed playfully. "I'll pay you back?"