The Princess and Her Cat

Nine

I laughed at his surprise, suddenly remembering he had no idea who I was. It was the first time I had laughed in... I couldn't remember. I could drop the spots, show him who I really was, but something held me back. I wanted to run to him, taste his lips, feel his arms around me, hear him mumble under his breath. But Ladybug didn't do that. Marinette did.

But he didn't know I was Marinette.

"Thought I would check up on her before heading home," I answered.

"Oh. Well, you can go, I got it." Chat answered.

"But we have a problem, Chat."

"And that is, my lady?"

"Marinette isn't here." She wasn't. Ladybug was.

"She'll be back soon."

"Does she know?" I asked, curious to see his response.

"Know what?"

"Your identity." I said casually.

"Yes." He fidgeted with the bell at the base of his throat.

"Would... Would you tell me?" I asked, suddenly scared to hear what he would say.

"If you want to know," he replied, looking up with excitement in his eyes.

"I do." He called off his transformation, and Adrien stood in front of me, a small smile on his face.

"Adrien, Adrien Agreste. Nice to meet you."

I told Tikki to de-transform me, and stuck out a hand. "Marinette, Marinette Dupien-Chang."

He stepped closer, taking my waist in his hands. "Mari, I swear..."

"You swear what?" I smiled, looking up at him.

"I swear that you are the most ridiculous human being I've ever met." he answered, pressing his forehead to mine.

"You're not disappointed?" I whispered.

"Why would I be disappointed?" he asked, voice low. He pulled me closer still, and I could feel his chest rising and falling as he breathed.

"Because your 'brave, strong, confident' Ladybug is just Marinette."

"'Just Marinette?'" he breathed. "You are so much more than 'just Marinette.'"

"Says who?"

"Says me." I almost couldn't hear him, his voice was so quiet, and when he kissed me, his lips slow and sweet, he mumbled something else I didn't catch. But I didn't care, because between the blood roaring in my ears, pulse pounding, and lips pressed to mine, I could ignore pretty much anything.

He pressed me back toward the wall, pinning my idle wrists above my head. I could feel his heat, red and hot, in his touch, and it seemed to want to devour me. When he pulled away, the sound of our lips parting forever imprinted in my memory, he pressed his lips behind my ear tenderly.

He released my wrists, then planted a few kisses behind my ear before whispering in my ear, "Don't let anyone tell you you are 'just Marinette.'" My hands went to his hair, ruffling it as he kissed my jaw, then came back to my lips.

When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless and I wanted nothing more than tell him I loved him.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't let those three words slip from my mouth.