Work Text:
Marinette woke to the sound of a light thump on her balcony. Glancing around, she realized that she had fallen asleep at her desk. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she forced herself to look out the window.
Nothing. It was probably just snow falling off the roof.
With a great deal of willpower, Marinette stood up and moved towards her bed. With a little bit of luck, she might be able to get…she caught a glimpse of her alarm clock, its numbers bright green… 4 more hours of sleep. Lovely.
“Marinette.” A pair of eyes, the same color as her clock, peered at her from outside. “May I come in?”
‘Not snow,’ Marinette thought to herself. With an over exaggerated sigh, she shuffled over to the balcony and opened the door. “Chat,” she began “what, may I ask, brings you to my room at 2:57 in the morning?”
“A-actually, It’s 2:58 now…”
“THAT’S NOT THE POINT. I was sleeping. Do you know what—” Marinette stopped.
‘Wait a second… He didn’t call me princess. He hasn’t made any terrible cat puns… He just stuttered . He wasn’t himself during patrol, either. Something is definitely wrong. But I’ll have to tread carefully…’
“Chat, are you okay?” she asked tentatively.
The boy turned toward her, ready to fake a smile. He squared his shoulders and looked right into her eyes, a lie on the tip of his tongue.
But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lie to her… She would see right through his facade. ‘Of course she would. She’s—’
“Chat?” she asked again, taking a step towards him. She moved slowly, as if she were afraid that he would turn and run at any moment. Her outstretched hand came to rest on his cheek.
He flinched and pulled away. “I’m sorry My-M-Marinette. This w-was a b-b-bad idea. I-I’m just gonna l-l-leave now.” He turned to go, but not before he saw the pain in her eyes.
Marinette watched the black figure go, leaping across the Parisian rooftops in a hurry. ‘
“What did I do wrong?” she wondered aloud, the hurt clear in her voice. “Chat stuttered in front of me. What could I have done to make him so nervous?”
‘He couldn’t even say my name. It was almost as if he was about to say…’
My Lady.