Don't look at me like that...you're here for the same reason. Here's a story about these infectious cuties.


"Well done, My Lady," Chat Noir marveled as Ladybug returned the world to its prior state of entropy.

"You too, kitty," she grinned, and they bumped their fists.

It was the same routine as always. Fight. Win. Go home, live their separate, disjoint lives.

"You know," Chat began, snatching her wrist and placing a quick kiss on her knuckles. "We finished pretty quick. Would my Lady care to join me for a late dinner on this beautiful Paris evening?"

Ladybug retracted her hand, and a sadness swept over her azure eyes. "Chat…"

"What? It would be purely platonic."

She giggled softly. "There's nothing platonic about you."

"That's not true!" he complained, keeping his classic smile, though it felt a little tight. "We're partners after all."

The crowd had grown, and they were demanding pictures, smiles, a recount of the fight.

Ladybug waved, walking backwards, and Chat knew she was departing. He understood her body language. He understood 'no'.

"We should keep our personal lives separate, Chat. You know that."

"Do I?" he persisted. "Just us, hanging out as our alter egos? Is that still personal?"

She hesitated, but he knew he couldn't keep her there. She was true to her name—a ladybug spreading her wings for flight.

"Too personal for me."

And she was gone, followed by cheers from the citizens and a forlorn look on her partner's face.


OoO


"You've got it bad, kid," Plagg chuckled.

Adrien sat on his too big of a bed in his too big of a room. He was in love. He knew it, and he also knew it was unreciprocated. He knew that Ladybug loved him in the sense that he was her friend, her partner in crime, someone she needed.

But he wasn't someone she wanted.

Meanwhile he was tearing his hair out over her smiles and her teasing and the way she looked in that uniform—

What a mess.

"Why do I even feel this way? She doesn't want me around!" he complained, and he fell back, closing his eyes.

The kwami swirled around Adrien's face and landed on his forehead. "Don't be stupid. We both know that's not true."

Adrien wasn't so sure. He wondered if she could know him as Adrien, if she'd like him better. They were complete opposites after all. As Chat, he was witty, exciting, adventurous, funny (at least he liked to think so), and so brave. But as Adrien, he was just blah. Blah, blah, blah. On his father's leash, he couldn't so much as cough out of turn.

He couldn't be who he wanted to be as himself…if that made sense. Adrien was his mask.

So even if Ladybug liked him more that way, would it even matter? It still wouldn't be him, not all of him.

"I'm giving up on her, Plagg."

"You don't want to do that."

"No," he conceded. "I need to."


OoO


"Woah, Adrien, buddy. You look like someone gave you a puppy and then took it back."

There was Nino for you—always trying to fish for a grin.

It usually worked, or at least, Adrien would humor him, but not today.

"Why so glum, dude?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Adrien sighed. He moved to open the door, but a slightly shorter, ebony haired girl reached out at the same time.

Marinette. He almost hadn't seen her.

She stepped back awkwardly. "Oh, uhhhh, hi Adrien!"

He smiled his fake smile, and they both stared at the door, waiting for the other to move.

Adrien sighed, chuckling to himself, and pulled the door back, nodding for her to go in first.

She blushed to her roots and stammered a thank you, then proceeded to sprint to her seat.

Man she had a lot of energy. It was kind of cute, he supposed.

Now that he was officially over his lady—er, Ladybug—he could stop and notice other girls.

As he took a seat, he glanced back at the students in his class, most of whom he'd never considered as girlfriend material, considering he'd been loyal to someone else.

But the range of faces did nothing for him. Sure there was Chloe, his last resort, his crutch, but he didn't want to get muddled in her drama. The only one who shone bright enough was Marinette. As soon as they made eye contact, however, it was like she'd been electrocuted. She spazzed out and then face planted on her desk, possibly dead? Alya patted her back.

Okay….?

He didn't understand why she acted like that around him. Had he done something to make her uncomfortable? Then again, he was boring old Adrien.

Figures. She'd been perfectly fine around him as Chat Noir.

In fact, her personality was infectious, and he'd realized there was so much more to her besides 'fashion designer' and 'spaz'.

She was cute, but surprisingly witty and brave. And sarcastic.

Adrien glanced at her again, and she was forcing Alya to stifle laughter, making exaggerated movements with her hands.

Maybe he should pay her a proper visit.


OoO


Marinette was still fantasizing about Adrien on her way home. He'd looked so sad today, not in a particularly obvious way, but enough so that those who paid attention could tell.

Then he'd looked back at her, at her, thoughtful, contemplative, and she'd lost it.

She was such a loser!

She rolled her eyes at herself and marched upstairs, flinging off her backpack. The trek back from school had left her overheated, so she began shrugging off her sweater when she heard someone clear his throat, quite urgently.

She whipped around, yanking her shirt back down to cover her stomach.

"Chat?!" she nearly shrieked.

The superhero was red in the face, and the least suave she'd ever had the pleasure to see him.

"Princess," he finally got out, leaning against her wall.

"What are you doing here?" she sighed.

He seemed surprised at her bluntness, but then he strode in from her terrace, hands behind his back.

"Checking in," he supplied, observing her decorations. He paused when he reached her dresser, and Marinette crossed her arms.

He turned to her, ecstatic. "Who's that?"

She followed his pointer finger to her computer, where Adrien's face was pasted across its entire surface.

She crossed her arms to hide her humiliation. "None of your business."

He was smiling too wide now, strutting closer to her. "Has my princess found another prince?" he purred.

She blushed at his proximity. "Jealous?"

"Maybe," he admitted, and she glared, stepping back.

"What about your precious Ladybug?"

The mention of her alter ego sent a jab of pain across his face, and she frowned. That was strange.

Chat shrugged. "She's not mine anymore."

Marinette's frown deepened. She tilted her head. "What…do you mean?"

"Have you ever experienced unreciprocated love?"

Yes, she thought, her mind zeroing in on Adrien. But then her head exploded.

LOVE?

"You….love Ladybug?"

He looked at her, detached, broken. "Yeah. But I'm letting her go."

She couldn't. She couldn't.

"Why?" was all she could.

"I've loved her for so long, and she'll never feel the same. She doesn't even want to be friends. Just partners."

"Chat…" she breathed, sitting down, her heart too heavy. She'd known he had feelings for her, but she'd pushed them aside for multiple reasons. Partly because she'd also known he was a flirt. She'd never realized he'd actually…loved her. "I'm sure that's not true."

"That's why I'm here," he whispered.

She snapped her head up at him, and she felt her eyes water without permission.

No.

No. She couldn't break his heart twice.

"Not like that!" he assured her, crouching down in front of her, his hands resting on either side of her knees. "I just…I need someone to talk to. Despite my charming good looks, I'm quite lonely, you know."

She rolled her swimming eyes.

"So…will you be my friend, Princess?" he asked, eyes so green and fragile.

"Silly Kitty," she said softly. "I already am."


OoO


She watched Chat Noir leap from the girl's terrace and grimaced.

Why…why was he in some girl's bedroom? She felt tears prickle in her eyes, but then she reminded herself that Chat Noir hardly knew she existed. She shouldn't be jealous.

Even though she was.

She still remembered that day he'd saved her—tackled her to the ground, saving her from being crushed. He'd pulled her to safety, he'd told her that everything would be okay.

She'd fallen for him hard. How could she not? He was gorgeous. He was funny. He was brave, and kind, and heroic.

She wanted him for herself.

A voice, like wind, reached her ears, and her world turned a purple hue. "Then take him."