Miraculous One-Shots

Two Truths and a Lie

He had just been trying to lighten the mood a little. It had started like this:

"I have a game we can play."

From his left, Ladybug groans. Though his gaze had settled over the city of Paris, cast now in the pinks and purples of the twilight sky, Chat still knows his Lady was rolling her eyes.

"I don't want to play any of your games, Chat."

It's the answer he's expecting, but he can tell his plan is already working. There's a curiosity resting on the edges of her words, a lilt that tells him she's more interested than she'd let on.

“Surely My Lady isn’t afraid of losing to this lowly alley cat?” he presses.

Chat turns to her and raises one eyebrow dramatically. He’s able to duck away from the swat she aims towards the side of his head, but he’s completely incapable of ignoring the hot twist in his gut when Ladybug lets loose a laugh at his antics.

Laughter had been scarce in their last few meetings. While he had no idea what life was like for the girl on the other side of the spotted mask, the slump of her shoulders when they met to patrol and the weary sighs that escaped her lips once the thrill of a successful akuma cleansing had cooled told him that all was not well. She’d seemed tired, and distant, and Chat knew he had been little better. School was becoming more demanding, photoshoots and runway appearances more frequent, and akuma attacks more direct. They were up to three attacks a week, on average, with one awful week maxing out at six. Almost always someone he knew. As much as he loved every moment spent saving the city with Ladybug, it was getting harder to enjoy when it meant hours of aching bones and blearily half-completed homework afterwards. He was getting tired of fighting his friends.

“Please,” she says with a snort, “It’s almost not worth playing when we both know I’ll sweep the floor with your fuzzy behind.”

“That sounds like something someone afraid of losing would say,” he teases. He delights in the indignant flush that lights up the skin along the edges of her mask. Ladybug’s cheeks puff out; his heart stammers in his chest.

“Are you calling me… a scaredy cat?”

Chat could kiss her. Truth be told, it doesn’t take much for him to feel that way, but there’s something irresistible about the way her lips quirk up when she turns his awful jokes back on him.

“Me? Call you a scaredy cat? That’s something I would never do on purpose, My Lady.”

This time he lets her land the light smack on his shoulder; the ensuing giggle is worth it. Ladybug pulls her legs up from where she’d been letting them dangle over the edge of the roof and turns to face him. She crosses her arms over her chest, and dieu does the challenge sparking behind her electrifyingly blue eyes send a jolt to his system.

“Fine. What’s this game of yours? It doesn’t involve little mouse toys or string, does it Chaton?”

I wouldn’t play any game with you and string in public he thinks, and Chat’s glad he has the sense to chew the words back before he makes a fool of himself, because really, did that even make sense?

He settles for a purred, “Not this time,” and swings his legs back onto the roof. Chat crosses them and turns to face her - their knees brush.

“The game’s simple: two truths and a lie. Each of us will tell the other person three things. Then the other person will say if they’re right or not. Whoever gets the most right, wins.”

Ladybug tenses, ready to pull away. A frown graces her features.

“You know how I feel about discussing our… other lives.”