His lady knew of his attraction to her, undoubtedly. Whilst donning the skin tight magical black spandex and his ridiculous pair of ears (they completed "the look") he was hardly subtle. Flirting at any given opportunity, kissing her hand when she took his. She would have to be completely dense to seriously think he didn't like her, romantically, in any sense.

She didn't know he was playing it off.

She didn't know that his attempts at being the regular Casanova he acted out was his other mask. Another layer.

He loved her so much.

She would never know.

Chat was so head over heels it sometimes made him feel physically ill. She made him so happy and floaty, a warm feeling he wanted to last forever. And maybe it would.

If, he sometime caught himself thinking bitterly, she would hurry up and notice. He was getting tired. He was getting cranky and frustrated.

He didn't want to lose her or her friendship, and he didn't want to tell her, but wanted her to know.

She was scanning the skyline and his heart gave a twinge. It just... DID that- not every time, but often- when he looked at her, and it frustrated him.

It made him want to look away.

Ladybug was lit up beautifully by the Paris city skyline, blue eyes more complex and vibrant than any cut jewel he'd ever seen, courtesy of the electric maze below. All the strength and confidence and kindness in the one person he came to adore, illuminated so... breathtakingly.

She caught him staring and raised a brow. "What's up?"

He could have never looked away.

She had a crush on someone.

It wasn't unexpected, just disappointing. She had her own life too as a civilian, after all. If his kwami was any indicator, he couldn't hope for everything in his life to go smoothly.

She hadn't even told him, really. She had just been lost in thought one fine sunset, and he had interrupted it. Then she had gone on to describe this boy she knew and how sweet and wonderful he was, and how she was feeling sympathetic toward him because of issues with his father. Said father was apparently a grade A asshole.

"He sounds fake." Chat had snorted.

"Rich, coming from you." Ladybug had rolled her eyes and snickered.

It'd be nice if she at least figured it out. If maybe one day she woke up and realized that Chat Noir was an idiot who couldn't say anything properly, and to the person he cared for no less. That he still had a stupid false bravado he carried around with him, that he was still overly private and could never tell her in a million years. Tell her that the flirtations were part of the charade. That he would never act like that should he be truly honest.

He would sometimes try to drill holes into her brain with his eyes after she had pushed away a particularly bad attempt at wooing her. She'd be too busy with the mission, jumping and running from roof to roof, to notice Chat's expression as he followed her just a few feet behind.

Please figure me out, he would think, as if she could hear him. Please at least accept the way I care about you.

It hurt. It hurt to love her.

It hurt to love her for a number of reasons.

Chat Noir was exhausted.

AN/: *rubs my filthy angst loving hands all over your G rated media* ayyy.

chat noir is so sickeningly in love its driving me nuts. i despise him so much that i wrote this.

not to say that adriens entire chat noir persona is false, and that every goofy thing he does isnt from the bottom of his heart, but at the end of the copycat episode he just seemed so tired? like a lot of what he says to ladybug is some kind of defense mechanism? marinette please you're killing him here?

i dont know, take cartoons away from me.