I wish you knew. If Chat knew, though, we might work together differently. So maybe I shouldn't tell him? Would we have the same team dynamic? We're partners, but not in the way Chat Noir wants us to be which is clear. If only Chat knew that I don't like him. - I like Adrian.

Across my desk, the assignment Miss Bustier assigned us sticks out. A poem. She wants us to write a poem. It's not like me to leave the homework assignment 'till the last minute but the akumas had been getting worse recently. I stretch before I begin writing, pencil moving fast across the page, pouring my conflicted emotions over Chat Noir into my piece. Trying to make it as subtle as possible.

I hate the way you think of puns, and the way you always stare.

I hate the way they make me laugh, I hate it without you there.

I hate your animosity and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me blind.

I hate it…

I hate the way you never aim, and that you're always right.

I hate the way je t'aime, even in the middle of a fight.

I hate the way I rely on you, knowing you'll catch me when I fall.

But mostly I hate the way I don't know you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.

I smile down at the page, handing it over to Tiki who reads it over, smiling. "It's perfect Marinette."