Yellow did not hate Pink. She truly loved her deeply. I don’t know why I even considered that for a moment. That being said, I do think something might have happened that she never could have predicted. Something that will ceaselessly haunt her until the end of time.
Serial killer au? Adrien perf model actually a killer calling himself chat noir?
I have to be honest, I wasn’t sure what to do with this at first, mostly because I can’t picture Chat/Adrien as a serial killer. I was like, do I make it angst? Anyway, I came with something and I hope it is okay.
Marinette took a sip of her ginger tea, trying to soothe her nerves. She picked her sketchbook again and continued to design. She had to make it seem as normal as possible. Taking a glance at the tv she saw in the corner of the screen the time. 10 more minutes until midnight. She returned her attention back to the sketchbook, drawing absently. This plan was crazy at best and fatal at worst. But at the moment, there was no other plan to catch that killer.
It all began about two months ago when a body was found on a bench in Jardin des Tuileries. There were no signs of a violent death. After the autopsy, it was revealed the victim died by injected poison. But there was no distinct mark whatsoever, something to set the criminal apart. The procedure didn’t fit with anything in their databases. The only thing that was out of normal were three missing fingers from the left hand. The victim didn’t have any family that could confirm or infirm either it was a revenge or a random act. That case seemed to go nowhere.
Imagine Marinette’s surprise when she came home that night to find a little gift, wrapped with a pink bow. Her surprise changed to horror when she saw inside the small box three fingers. At first, she panicked, thinking the killer might have discovered her identity. Everybody in their department sued a false name for safety reasons, after all. Since then she always sleeps with a small gun under her pillow and takes care to have a knife on her all the time. Marinette checked every window and changed the bolt to the door, but the so-called gifts keep coming as the body count of this murderer grew. Marinette’s level of stress increased as she spent hours over the program trying to figure something, anything. It seemed all those worries were becoming obvious to her friends too.
“Thanks for the lunch and tea, Adrien.” she smiled up at one of her oldest friends.
“Don’t worry about it. You really need a break.” he leaned a little across the table and put a strand of hair behind her ear. He gave her one of those sweet smiles, only reserved for friends, not cameras as he caressed her cheek. “I’m afraid you’ll die from the workload. You should take it easier. You deserve some rest.”
She nodded. “I’ll try to go home earlier and get more sleep.”
“Try some tea before going to sleep. I’m sorry I seem so insistent, but I only want the best for you.” he lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
Marinette tried not to blush because she was a grown woman not a high schooler and yet… Adrien always had that effect on her.
Marinette’s eyes shifted back to the TV. Two minutes until midnight. From what she had got so far, this was the time when the killer appeared with the oh so called gifts. Marinette got up from the sofa and made her way to the kitchen, pretending to go for a refill of her tea cup. She tinkered around with the teapot, her jaw clenched, ready to confront whoever that creeper was. There was a slight noise from the living room. Checking to make sure her knife was still in hand reach, hid under her nightrobe, Marinette gripped her full cup and stepped back into the living room. She took small steps, making sure to not alert the killer that she was waiting for him. She blinked in pretend surprise when she noticed the pink box which was settled on her couch. Putting the cup on the little desk in front of the couch. Carefully she untied the bow and lifted the top. Marinette felt bile piling in her throat at the sight of a heart. It has never been something this big before.
“I wanted to gift you my own, but I couldn’t have delivered it then. I hope you don’t mind a substitute.” Marinette froze as she heard the voice whispering in her ear.
How did he manage to sneak up on her? It didn’t matter anymore. With a deep breath, Marinette turned around. Time to get a profile. Yet, she couldn’t help, but e surprised. She didn’t exactly expect this. Her eyes automatically shifted to him, getting as much information as possible. Tall, around 1.90, blonde hair, medium towards longish length, green eyes, though possible use of contacts because of the cat-like look. Slim, yet muscular build, broad shoulder, a great shoulder to hip ratio, most likely in his 20s. Strong jaw, but face shape not certain because of the black mask. Black cat costume.
“Are you checking meowt?”
And shitty puns, apparently. Marinette tried not to flinch as leaned down to look her in the eye. “Honestly, between the two of us you are the one worth looking at.”
Trying to put on an innocent, ‘I’m totally not profiling you right now’ look, Marinette looked at him with big eyes.
“Who are you and what do you want from me?” she whispered.
“You can call me Chat Noir. And I only want your love.” he said tracing her cheek with a leather covered finger. “But that’s a discussion for another time. I hope you liked my little gift. Till next time. Au revoir, my lady.” making a bow, he grabbed her right hand gently and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
Marinette’s blood run cold. She didn’t even notice when Chat Noir disappeared. She was to concentrated on that hand kiss, her heart beating a million times fast. She knew that gesture. Her whisper fell to an empty room.