The Fearless Kitten | Miraculous Ladybug

Chapter Thirteen - Insufferable Jerk

The sounds of birds chirping greet me as I slowly awake, so warm and content I almost forget where I am, and with whom.

It takes a few dazed seconds for reality to slap me in the cheek, and I damn near gasp. I'm not only sleeping next to Damien Dubois, I'm quite literally snuggled up in his arms. My face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around my body, pressing us together. I feel like a tiny teddy bear in his grasp.

Horrified, I debate between scrambling away and trying to sneak out. I don't want to stay in such a cuddly position, but I also don't want him to wake up and see us like this.

His warmth is so comforting after everything I've been through, that I eventually sink into his touch. It won't cause either of us harm if we share some body heat, right?

It's just that. Survival. There is no dignity in survival.

Nope. Scratch that. Some things you can never come back from, and this is one of them.

Trying to slip out from his extremely heavy arms is actually very troublesome. I wiggle slowly, and try to move him without waking him. However, there is nothing I can do in such a small scale that will free me even the smallest gap to slither my way out.

Why should I be embarrassed? He's the one who is embracing me. I have nothing to feel hot in the face about.

"Damien." I hiss out, but he doesn't move a muscle. "Damien."

"Yo, Damien." This makes him tighten his hold on me for a moment, before relaxing again. Still, he remains dead to the world.

"Oi!" I yell, watching him startle awake. His eyes peer down at me, widening as his face tints pink. The sunlight that pours into the den making it possible to see his bewildered expression.

It's actually the most incredible sight. I've never seen him react to anything so strongly before. It makes me want to memorize this moment and forever cherish it.

The wild face of a boy who is known for being expressionless. How poetic, an author's dream come true.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He croaks, shoving me into the dirt wall of the den as he scrambles back. It's impossible to put enough space between us, so he ends up taking off. I lose sight of him once he steps out of the den.

"What am I doing?" I call out, getting up to follow after him. "You're the one who decided to wrap around me like a koala!"

He looks at me, the sun illuminating the extent of his rose coloured cheeks. Standing out here, exposed by the sun, he looks ages younger than he usually appears. For a split second I can pretend we're just two young teens hanging out in the woods.

Thanks to the black tank top hugging his frame, I see the snake tattoo on his right arm, reminding me he's nothing like a young boy. He's a man, even if not in age. He was forced to grow up far too soon in life. It's long, starting near his elbow and winding around his bicep, before disappearing somewhere beneath his shirt. It's breathtaking.

He glares daggers, a look that would make even the strongest of men quake in their boots.

Except, it's not that easy to take him seriously. He looks so childish with the blush creeping up his neck, feathering over his face. Each passing moment the boy looks more and more flustered.

"You're full of shit." He grumbles, turning his back to me. "Grab the stuff, let's head out now. We slept too long."

"Oh, gee, I wonder why. Maybe because you were oh so cozy." I tease more, watching his shoulders stiffen. I'd bet his muscles would burst from his skin if he tensed up any more.