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Chat Noir's P.O.V
"What on earth is Alya doing here?!" I thought.
I was unaware that she worked as a servant. This must have been a recent development. Still, why a servant of all jobs? Last time I checked, Alya had abominated the rich since the day she arrived in the poor section. I do not know the full story but she has a bit of bad history with the people of the wealthy section.
So, it is surprising to find her working for a rich family. Hopefully, she does not get a position that requires her to do anything awful. If they hurt my friend in any way, I will make sure that they will severely regret ever doing it.
Before Alya came into the picture, my mind was already reeling at the sight of the very man I dubbed a suspect. The Akuma spy. What sort of business does he have with this family?
I can hear them talking but their words are muffled. I was hoping I could make out their conversation with the movement of their lips. Unfortunately, the only two that are talking are the stoic man and the woman (and I could not even see the woman's face).
At times, I glanced over at the younger midnight-haired woman and the large male to see their facial expressions. I was not sure if I am making this out right. Yet, they seemed very on-edge about whatever they were talking about.
After Alya left, the younger woman marched out of the room with outrage burning in her eyes. Whatever happened with Alya and the blonde servant, it upset the heiress very much.
She is quite bold for storming off and showing her true emotions.
I heard some stories where girls had to have certain faces to wear at different events. At parties, they had to look like they were having a merry time even if they were not.
By the way her earlier expression was, I assumed she had to keep a neutral face.
Yet, she showed many different feelings. From fear to anger, she could be very expressive at minimal times. The rest of the time, her face was blank of emotion. She was decent at hiding it and could have kept up the facade.
She did not though nor did she care what everyone thought of her disturbance.
"She continues to interest me more and more," I mumbled to myself. I watched for a few more minutes but realized that I am getting nowhere.
I could not get a closer look.
I could risk the chance of running into Alya and have her recognize me. The staff members and the family could realize that I do not belong there either.
Since I am making no progress at finding out anything, I might as well go see the girl. I am guessing she is making her way back to her bedroom.
The question is, where is it?
I climbed to the top of the roof and made my way over to the sides. I searched for any balconies that might harbor her bedroom. It may take a while to find the right room.
Suddenly, a window opened. Alya stuck her head out for a moment before retreating inside. Out of curiosity, I climbed down the side of the building and peeked into the room.
There stood Alya talking to the very woman I came to see.
"Are you sure you wish to wait until I finish my duties?" Alya asked.
"Yes, I do not want to turn in quite yet. I would like to get a few errands done before I go to bed," the wealthy woman replied.
Alya smiled.
To my surprise, the smile looked genuine and not forced. Alya must have easily taken a liking to this wealthy woman. Alya did not have a good past with the rich. So seeing this development in a short amount of time, it is a wonder.
This midnight-haired woman unmistakably is different from the rest of her class. I wonder how she has not been shunned and abandoned to the poor section yet. I have only met her once before and have seen her again now.
She has gone out of line and has done unspeakable things a rich lady should not do.
She does not act like a cold-hearted rich lady, but more like a...brave princess.
"A fitting name," I thought, "The rich seemed to despise her while the poor adore her. A special woman, indeed."
"I shall return at the stroke of eight," Alya said, walking towards the door.
"I will see you in an hour then," the midnight-haired woman nodded before Alya exited the room. Once the door shut, I climbed onto the windowsill and sat down. I rapped my knuckle on the glass pane to alert the woman of my presence.
She shrieked, nearly snapping her neck just to see me. The woman had jumped and turned at the same time. She lost her balance and knocked herself off of her feet. I winced, feeling a little guilty for scaring her so much that it made her fall onto the floor.
She sat up into a sitting position and stared at me with a wide, startled gaze.
"I apologize, miss. I did not mean to frighten you," I said, sheepishly. This was a bad idea. I should go before she calls for her guards.
"Ch-Chat Noir? What are you doing here?" she asked, standing from the ground. I watched her kick off her high heels, wondering how she walked in ones so high. Her posture seemed to relax after the scare.
"Why is she not calling for help? Is it because I am a hero that she feels safe in my presence?" I questioned in my head.
"Lady Dupain-Cheng! Are you alright?" A deep male voice called from the other side of the door. I stiffened, realizing that some guards must have heard her scream. I watched the woman and readied myself in case I had to escape.
"Yes, I am alright. I just tripped over my foot!" she said half of the truth. I am completely awestruck. She had no hesitation to keep quiet about me being here. Does she really trust me that much? Why? For all that she knows, this is our first time meeting...unless she figured me out at the party.
I heard the guards actually chuckle a bit.
"That is good! Try to be a bit more careful. We know how clumsy you can be, Marinette," a different guard joked.
"Shut your mouth, Charles!" the woman squeaked. I watched the woman's face enflame with embarrassment. I held back a smirk from the silly banter.
She even bonded with the guards. Incredible. By the way that one guard sounded, the guards are protecting her for a different reason other than it is their job. They must care for her, especially when they can joke around with her like that.
What really bothers me is why she did not exploit my appearance?
I am a male dressed in black seemingly sneaking into her room (though I did signal her that I was here). I could threaten to kill her and steal her priceless items for money. That would be scary for any woman who is all alone.
Once the sounds of the guard's footsteps faded out of earshot, I tilted my head to the side in curiosity.
"Why did you not tell them that I was here?" I asked.
The woman scolded me for a moment before her face softened into a smile.
"You are the famous hero, Chat Noir. Are you not? Why should I be afraid of a good soul, who protects Paris from danger?" the woman—Marinette, I have come to learn—questioned me in return.
"So, she does recognize me," I thought.
I hummed in acknowledgment of her answer.
"May I come in?" I asked, politely.
"You shall," Marinette allowed.
I stepped down from the windowsill and looked around the giant bedroom. A nice poor section house or two could probably fit in this glamorous room. What kind of person needs all this space for a singular bedroom?
"What do I owe the pleasure of being visited by a superhero?" Marinette curiously asked.
I returned my gaze to Marinette before thoughtfully pursing my lips.
"You have...intrigued me, per se," I explained a bit vaguely, "I suppose I wanted to understand you a little better, considering the kind of roof you have been raised under. I would like to learn about your lifestyle here and why you are so against it."
Marinette seemed both flabbergasted and perplexed by my statement.
"Really?" she said in almost disbelief.
"Yes," I confirmed, "I was at that party for a classified mission. Even though your life was on the line, you were going to defend that person to the end. I admired that and being the cat I am, I grew curious of you."
"Oh," was all Marinette could awkwardly muster out, her cheeks changing into a shade of rosy pink.
"Well then, it is an honor to have grabbed your attention," she said, curtsying out of gratitude.
"There is no need for that," I said, modestly. It felt extremely bizarre for a wealthy citizen to act like this with me—a less fortunate person. Of course, she does not know that. Would she still be curtsying if she knew my true status behind the mask or would she not care?
Marinette stared at me for a moment before walking over to an expensive-looking couch. She sat down and patted the empty space next to her.
"Come and take a seat. We do not have much time until my personal servant returns," she informed me. I went over and sat on the soft cushion. It has been a long time since I sat down on something that was comfy and soft.
"What is it you wanted to talk about first?" She asked. I noticed her perfect posture is making her muscles rigid as a board. It is like she still cannot unwind, even in my presence.
"You can relax. I am not going to judge or harass you to be flawless," I assured her before letting out a sigh, "Why do all wealthy people have to be perfect? It seems very stressful and draining."
Marinette's face melted into a frown. Her bluebell eyes drifted to the floor and she let her aligned shoulders slouch.
"I apologize. I have been drilled into looking perfect in front of everybody all the time so it is out of habit, I suppose. The reason why we have to is because you have to be on top or whatever nonsense they blabber about," Marinette told me, waving her hand around in an uncaring manner.
"If you are not, your name is shamed by the wealthy class. And as punishment for dirtying your reputation, you are to live out the rest of your life in a dirty and poor place."
I scoffed at that. My anger began to boil over, my calm, water-like nature being heated by her every word. The wealthy pigs are insufferable! I knew that the children were taught to be perfect at events but I had no clue they had to be absolute on a daily basis.
"I have never really been relaxed in front of someone before," Marinette added with a smile that did not reach her face, "It is nice to finally relax with somebody."
"At least, not as Marinette," she thought.
"When she means everybody..." I trailed off in my head. My theory instantly turned into the right answer.
She has to be perfect, even in front of her servants and parents.
How awful.
I simmered down my rage and released a breath of air.
"Then...I am glad to be the first person you feel comfortable with," I declared with a gentle smile.
Marinette's eyes grew in surprise before her already tainted-pink cheeks flushed into a cherry red. The color is very flattering on her. She covered the sides of her face with her hands, displaying a flustered appearance. I raised an eyebrow in mild amusement.
"I-I...I am too," Marinette sputtered out her reply. She had an embarrassed expression etched into her features along with a sweet smile.
I blinked, feeling some sort of a wave of lightning hit me. My heart beat just slightly faster and my face rose in temperature. Various thoughts flooded my mind, all circling into one that sums it all up.
"She is adorable," my thoughts suggested, making me squirm. I forced my gaze away from Marinette, trying to stop myself from such ridiculousness.
Why am I even feeling these emotions? I just met this girl a few minutes ago. How is it possible that I have grown attracted to her already—wait, no!
"Attracted?! Preposterous! I have no inkling of desire for this woman! I must be embarrassed or something. Yes, that is it! I do not have any sort of feelings for this woman I just met!" I finally sorted out my mangled thoughts and found a conclusion I am satisfied with.
But why does it feel as though I am digging a hole of lies?
I know I just arrived...but I need to leave. I cannot continue to follow whatever road my feelings are dragging me down. They are leading me into dangerous territory I wish not to be in.
I had crossed that boundary once...and lost it all.
I could not protect her...
I fear I might make the same mistake again with someone else I care deeply for.
I cannot drag a civilian into this cruel game of war.
Therefore, I must leave and never return. Any knowledge of Marinette and I seeing each other may put her at risk of a threat.
"Is everything alright, Chat Noir? You look very disturbed and troubled," Marinette questioned me. I stared at the wealthy woman sitting next to me for a moment.
"I think it is time that I depart," I told her, earning a confused look from her.
"How come? You had just arrived and you are leaving already," she said in disappointment. There was something else spiraling within her. Something I could not tell what it was.
Was it worry? Was it sadness? Was it rejection?
Maybe...it was a mix of all of the above.
I sighed and stood up from her couch. I have to go. There is no reason I should be here, aside from that mysterious man's appearance here. That is something I should be finding out rather than talking with a girl who caught my interest.
I began my trek to the window when something grabbed my wrist. I was surprised by the sudden grasp and turned to the very midnight-haired woman doing it. She did not look at me, half of her face was covered by shadows while the other wore a frown.
"Can you..." she shakily started, words trailing off as if unknowing of what to say next. I patiently waited for her to gather herself and concluded whatever was on her mind.
"Can you please stay and...talk for a little bit longer? Just until my personal servant returns at the stroke of eight," she asked. My fake ears twitched when catching the loneliness embedded in her voice.
She did seem upset earlier at dinner about something I am unaware of happening. She is devastated and in need of a friend to talk with.
She was desperate enough to ask a mysterious stranger for this request.
I looked to my exit then released a sigh. I gave in to her request and returned to my spot on the couch. Marinette blinked from her despair to astonished disbelief that I stayed.
"As you wish," I allowed, crossing my arms, "just until eight."
Marinette's jaw went slack for a moment before shaking out of her stupor. Relief fell upon her face, showing a small smile. I swore her eyes were slightly glossy but I must be imagining it.
"Thank you," she mumbled.
I gave her a nod before asking, "What shall we talk about?"
There was not much I could answer if she did ask too personal of questions. Plus, this is the first time we had time to actually converse. This fact known, it would mean we have even smaller things to say.
Marinette's face scrunched in thought before a candle flickered to life upon her head. Yet, she did not speak and bit the bottom of her lip in debate.
"Is there something the matter?" I asked.
"This may be a bit of a personal question—in which I am not forcing you to answer—but I have noticed you have a new partner," Marinette rambled with awkward hesitation.
I raised an eyebrow, "What about my new partner?"
I watched Marinette look away and her fingers fiddling with the skirt of her dress.
"I was wondering...how are things with Ladybug?" She asked.
"Can you be more specific?" I urged.
"Well, is she a good partner?" Marinette questioned. She continued with slight sadness in her tone, "I know she may not live up to the standards of the original Ladybug. Yet, I do hope she is doing her best to meet the qualifications."
"No," I answered. In that second, I watched Marinette's entire demeanor drop almost as if her heart had broken on the spot. She placed that neutral mask back over her face.
I decided not to question her about this development since I am running short on time. Instead, I continued with my explanation.
"No, she has no need to meet any qualifications or standards the original Ladybug lived too. My new partner's best is all I ask for of her," I said, "In conclusion, she is an amazing partner."
Marinette stared at me in awe before her smile returned.
"She must be a special one," she said.
I chuckled, "Definitely an odd one."
We talked for a little while longer until it was time for me to go. Marinette walked with me to the window to say her farewell.
"It was lovely talking with you this evening. Once again, thank you for staying. This meant more to me than you know," Marinette genuinely spoke with graciousness.
"Yes, it was a nice chat," I joked, earning an eye roll from the woman.
"With this, I bid you a farewell," Marinette said. She drew closer to me and had to stand on her tippy toes. She brushed her soft lips against my cheek.
I froze from the sudden affection. When she steps away from me, I stared at her with wide eyes. I could not see the look on her face due to her head being bowed.
"Is she not engaged to marry a man?!" I questioned in my head, trying to untie my knotted thoughts, "Although...it probably was an arranged marriage."
"Uh..." was all that managed to leave my mouth. My brain is too jumbled to think of anything to say.
"Thank you for having me! Bye!" I quickly said before hurriedly vaulting out the window.
"What is wrong with me?" I grumbled to myself, returning to the poor section. I would be met with a sleepless night once I get to bed.
Marinette's P.O.V
I watched him go and stepped forward to peek outside. I could somewhat see his figure before it eventually disappeared.
My face feels like it is on fire, burning from my unending embarrassment. Not even the cool night air could cool off my cheeks.
I am such a fool! Why did I do that? I was internally freaking out and attempting to calm down. Many smaller versions of me are probably scrambling around and sorting out the chaos I created inside my brain.
However, I ran out of time to process my undoing when Alya returned just as she said.
"Hello, Marinette," she greeted me with a usual curtsy, "Is it a beautiful night out?"
I glanced from her to out the window. I let a fawn smile grace my lips and happily replied, "Yes, it is a beautiful night."
Alya returned the smile before raising an eyebrow. Curious brown examined me.
"Why is your face all flustered?"
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