unexpected feelings | marichat

chapter seventeen

marinette's pov
he did, of course, end up calling me a few hours later. our calls and hangouts became more and more regular, from small phone calls halfway through a busy study session to movies right before a wild akuma, chat noir became my new best friend, both in and out of the mask. i couldn't quite figure out why, but i found myself more and more excited to spend time with him each day.
finally, it was the weekend before the last day of school, and we lay on my couch watching Titanic. i dug my hand into the popcorn bowl and found it empty, save for a few kernels. frowning, i began to get up and make more, but chat stopped me.
"is it finished? the movie's barely getting good!"
"you eat a lot!"
"not true," he said, scowling. "wait, since you're getting more of that though, bring me some cookies, please?" his expression shifted into a hopeful smile, and i got an idea.
"or, you could make your own cookies."
"i'm not the one whose parents own a bakery."
"i'll teach you, get up," i pulled him up and dragged him into the kitchen. he tried to wrench himself free from my grip, but failed.
"but, but the movie!"
"you can see it from the kitchen. besides, we can rewind it if we need to. you're not missing anything," i said, gathering all the ingredients from our cabinets.
"fine, teacher," he said mockingly. "what's the first step?"
   i grabbed my parents' aprons from a drawer and tossed one at him. "okay, so we need to melt the butter, then- hey, stop eating the chocolate chips!"
   he put one last handful of them in his mouth then put down the bag sheepishly. i started melting the butter after instructing him on what to put in the bowl. just as i began to take it out the microwave, i heard a small yelp from behind me.
   somehow, while mixing the flour with the salt and baking powder, it had ended up all over him, leaving him a powdery mess. "oops??" he said, shrugging his shoulders guiltily. i shook my head at his stupidity and began to add the rest of the ingredients into the bowl.
   "ooh, egg-cellent mixing skills," he said as i cracked the eggs and began to mix the batter.
   "i know, i'm kinda an expert and everything. anyway, now we need to put small spoonfuls of this on the cookie pan." we scooped up the dough and put it on the pan, then placed it in the oven, careful not to drop it.
   "you want to, um, clean up?" i asked, gesturing at the flour that was, well, all over him. he looked down and nodded, so i gave him a towel and grabbed one myself to wipe down the counter.
   "if this doesn't come off me, i'm suing you," he threatened jokingly when i approached him next to the sink to wash the dirty dishes. i giggled and brushed some flour off his mask.
   he looked me in the eyes, an unreadable look on his face. i continued to wipe the -rather stubborn- stuff off his face and tried to pretend i couldn't notice that we were drawing closer to each other.
   of course, as ladybug and chat noir, we were always super close to each other, but i still felt my heart race a little bit. maybe it was because of the different circumstances, or maybe because i was too tired to fully and coherently react, but i didn't stop myself from leaning in, more and more by the second. he didn't seem too eager to stop whatever was going on, either...