Thank you anon! Not sure if you wanted something angsty, but since I’m a goofball, this came out the other way around :p Also, I threw in a tiny bit of adrinette, I hope you don’t mind!
61. “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”
He looks down at the street, his catlike green orbs searching for something, or someone that might cause him trouble for entering a young woman’s apartment at such a late hour. And not just any young woman. An engaged young woman, who is Paris’s new sweetheart and whose marriage is in two days.
He swallows down the lump forming on his throat, his stomach flipping at the thought. It wasn’t everyday that you had such a big wedding and Chat Noir would not let her get married without her knowing how he feels.
Mustering up the courage he needed to face her, and glancing one last time at the street below, he uses his baton to jump out of the roof he was currently standing on to the open window of her apartment. He slides in quickly, closing it firmly behind him before turning his attention to the inside. Everything is tidied up, much to his surprise. She’s usually so disorganized that she would trip over her own things.
The TV is playing in her room, a soft light creeping from under the door. His ears perk up in said direction. He hears her moving around the room, and he instantly knows she’s there. Walking over to the door, he flings it open, walking in in two quick strides. She shrieks, grabbing the control remote and throwing it in his direction. Good thing he was Chat Noir, or he wouldn’t have been able to catch it so smoothly.
“Wow, calm down princess,” he says, lifting his gloved hands up in surrender.
Her eyes widen, “Chat?”
“The one and only,” he walks over to her, getting down on one knee and taking her hand in his, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, glancing quickly at the clock sitting on her bedside table. “It’s past midnight!”
“Princess,” he starts, thinking over his next wods carefully, “I can’t let you get married,”
She raises an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on her face, “What?”
“You heard me. I can’t, and I won’t let you get married to that man.”
“What are you talking about? You’re-”
He raises a clawed finger to her lips, shutting her up effectively. “Please, princess, don’t get married to that guy,”
“But-” she tries again, but he shakes his head and interrupts her.
“I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.” his bright eyes roam her face, searching for answers. First she looks confused, then understanding creeps over, right before her own eyes light up and a small smile graces her lips.
“Silly kitty,” she says, scratching behind his ears. He purrs. “I have to get married. You know I love him,”
“But don’t you love me?”
She looks as if in deep thought, before a dramatic sigh escapes her lips, “I do, but we can’t be together. Not the way I need us to be,”
“Because you could neer reveal your true identity to me, to no one. What would my name be then? Marinette Dupain-Cheng Noir?” she asks and he finally bursts out laughing. Releasing his transformation, he is quick to envelop her in his arms, kissing the crown of her head. He vaguely hears Plagg huffing in the distance, something about them being ridiculous, and he smirks.
“Oh my!” she gasps, looking up at him.
“Please, M'lady, don’t get married to Adrien Agreste. I don’t think he’d be good enough for you,”
She smiles, curling against his chest, “Oh, but I think he would. As will you, Chat Noir.”
Parents can’t help posting pix of their kids sometimes. Even when they get to 21 and are 6’2” tall!
My son & I were horsing around after Crossfit last week throwing sweaty towels at each other and his WOD partner says: “I guess you’re related?” I say, “Yep, I’m his mum”, and the guy exclaims, “Crikey! I thought he was older than me and I’m 40!” Exaggeration mate - my boy could pass for 30 maybe but not 40!
It’s the big beard. If they’re able, the lads in Oz are getting their facial hair happening big-time at the mo (pardon the pun). A lot of our Aussie Rules footballers have been running around looking like Ned Kelly for a good season already. But it’s not just a phenomenon Down Under, many of the pro’s in the European pelton are sporting furry faces too.
But back to the resident pelt; I’m a bit peeved he won’t let me give it a stroke - no-one is allowed to actually - but I’m his mother!