"You are far too trusting, Chat Noir!"

"And you are not trusting enough," he shot back, slashing his hand through the air angrily. "You don't even know who I want to tell, or anything about them. Who are you to judge?"

Ladybug threw her hands into the air in exasperation. "It doesn't matter, Chat! It doesn't matter who you want to tell, because it's too dangerous for us to tell anyone. Or have you forgotten why we haven't even told each other?"

"Oh, of course not, my lady," he sneered, and for the first time in four years, the nickname was not an endearment. "How could I forget that my partner doesn't trust me enough to tell me her name, no matter how many times we've been there for each other or how many times I've respected her wish for anonymity?"

"What, is that what you're doing now? 'Respecting' my wishes? 'Cause right now, it seems like you're trampling all over them."

"What of my wishes, Ladybug? You've utterly ignored them for four years, and now you're pissy because I'm finally doing what I want?"

She stamped her foot angrily, her face flushed and her fists clenched. "I want us to be safe!"

"No," he scoffed. "You want to keep that barrier between us, to keep this life from bleeding into your personal life. To keep me out of it."

Ladybug recoiled as if struck, and her face paled beneath the mask. "What?"

"Our kwamis have both said that we could reveal ourselves now, and yet you stubbornly refuse to do so. What other reason could you possibly have, except to keep me at arm's length?"

"Chat, that isn't it at all—"

"It doesn't matter what it is. I finally have someone in my personal life that I want to keep there, and I believe that honesty is a necessary element of any relationship. I thought that you, of all people, would respect that." She flinched, and he knew his barb had found its mark. "I'm going to tell her who I am, and if she can accept all of me, then I am going to ask her to marry me."

Her eyes widened, and she took a tentative step forward. "You can't—"

"I wasn't asking permission, Ladybug," he said flatly, his expression shuttered. "I've had enough of that in my life, and I'm done."

"I didn't mean—"

"She is the only one who has ever respected me enough to consider what I want out of life, and I love her. She deserves to know the truth. I told you about my plans only as a courtesy to you. I am going to tell Marinette who I am, with or without your approval."

Ladybug gasped, and stumbled backward; a wide chimneystack was the only thing that kept her upright. She stared at him in mute horror, and Chat felt suddenly off balance, as if he'd missed something important.

"Ladybug?" She sank to the ground, shaking, and shaking her head, and he felt his irritation with her shift into concern. What the hell? "Are you all right?"

"No, I don't think I am," she murmured, tears in her eyes as she stared at his boots. "Tikki, spots off."