The Final Fight of Paris - A miraculous fanfic

Chapter 3

(5 weeks ago)

"Marinette? Sweety, did you happen to finish the dishes?"

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng is a lovely woman. She, along with Marinettes father, were known as one of the friendliest people in Paris. Marinette used to be included in that statement. Marinette used to be included in a lot of things. 

"Yes Maman! I finished up just a minute ago, actually." She gave her mom a sweet smile, despite the twisting feeling in her heart. 

"Great." Her mother wrapped her arms around Marinettes shoulders. "Good night my love. Make sure you get your work done, but don't stay up too late." Her thumb swept across her cheek. "I can tell that you haven't been getting much sleep lately. Are we putting too much stress on you?"

Marinette inwardly cringed. Was it that obvious? Ugh. She really needed to figure out a way to balance her work life with her superheroine one. 

"No mama, no need to worry. The girls and I have just been working on a project for school. It must have run late enough for me to look as tired as I feel. I won't let it happen again." 

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng nodded warily. "Okay. Good night sweety."

As Marinette walked up the stairs, she let herself slump. Her shoulders were too tense, back too tight. Her feet hurt, and her head throbbed. She felt like she was crumbling from the outside in. She shut her trap door and laid down, back flat on the floor. 

Marinette closed her eyes and breathed deep and loud breaths. She was alive, and yet, not. She was breathing, but not living. And she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. 

A few nights ago, she had made herself research this feeling and how to cope with it. She has to maintain her grades and responsibilities and she couldn't do that if she wasn't able to focus. Multiple websites gave her mostly the same advice on how to deal with stress: meditation, sleep, deep breathing, etc. She found that in times like these, when her limbs felt like lead, and her head felt like it had its own heartbeat, the best tactic to use was deep breathing, preferably when she was splayed across a soft surface like a starfish. But the floor would do. She closed her eyes.

...

A cold surface pressed into Marinettes forehead, causing her to jolt and bump heads with a creature clad in black. A shiny type of black that she knew too well. "Chat Noir?" Her voice came out scratchy, startling both parties. Chat Noir sighed.

"Oh Marinette, I thought you were dead!" 

Marinette laughed, though she didn't know why. "Why are you here kitty? I don't remember inviting any stray cats into my room."

He flushed, "Well...ugh-" his green eyes bore into hers. "Because I saw you lying on the floor! You weren't moving and I- I...You scared me!"

Her eyebrows lifted. Just that movement caused the ache in her head to worsen. "I scared you?" she asked.

"Well of course you did! I was just minding my own business, doing my daily patrol when I happened to glance through your bedroom skylight to see you sprawled across the floor. What was I supposed to do, let you die?"

"For the record, no one was dying."

He said nothing. They stare at each other for a few seconds before they both realized the position they were in. Marinette was still star-fished across the floor. Chat sat above her. One hand propped up next to her head, and the other laid lightly across her cheek, fingers pressed against her temple.

"Are you checking my pulse right now, kitty?"

A small smile blossomed across his face. "I may only have 8 lives but you only have one. A good cat always keeps track."

"Don't cats have 9 lives?"

She knew she stepped into a trap the moment his smile grew into a smirk. "You took one life off this cat when I saw you, laying in all your half-dead glory."

She couldn't stop the smile. It was just something about this guy that always had her smiling. It almost made her forget about the fact that he was her partner, and no matter how much she like the reassuring feeling of his hand against her cheek, she wasn't allowed to enjoy it. She gently brushed his hand away, her head protesting as she sat up. After a few moments of getting used to the change of view, she opened her eyes.

"Marinette?" Chat asked. His tone was softer. "Are you alright?" 

She hated this question. Was she alright - Yeah. She was alright. She was perfectly fine, just struggling to deal with the consequences of her own actions. 

"Peachy, kitty cat." She pushed at his chest. "Actually, I'm feeling a little claustrophobic. Can you move off me?"

He flushed, the kind that spread from his cheeks down to his bell. She smiled, she rarely got to see him like this. 

He mumbled incoherently and moved to sit, crisscross applesauce, in front of her. The pounding in her head worsened as she moved, but she ignored it. He was here and she wouldn't give him reason to worry.

"So...do you always enter girls' rooms uninvited? Or is it just me?"

"Its just you...I-"

She giggles, "Well I'm honored kitty. Though you best not make a habit out of breaking an entering or I might just have to contact Ladybug."

He scowls. "First of all, Ladybug doesn't control me. She can't tell me what to do ALL the time. Besides, with this purrty face, she would be the one taking orders from me."

It's Marinettes turn to scowl. "As if! I- I would like to remind you that you are definitely not the type of guy who takes the handle. Your the guy who-"

He leans forward. Centimeters away from her face. "I'm what kind of guy- princess?"

Marinette's eyes narrow. "Princess? Really. THATS what you come up with? Jesus."

Chat Noir laughs. "Well, you are a beauty in distress. Would you like me to call you my Bell? I can be the beast. Us feline creatures tend to be furrocious."

Her eyes roll so hard they almost get lost between the last two of her brain cells. This guy- amiright?

"Gawd! You are insufferable when its past your bed time." She smirks and pushes a finger into his black-clad chest. "Scratch that, you're insufferable all the time. It's beyond me, how Ladybug is able to deal with you."

He gasps, and falls, back first, onto the floor. "You wound me, my dear princess!"

She laughs, a deep laugh that she hasn't heard in a while. "I'm sorry, I should have known how sensitive a cat's pride can be. Let me go get you a pastry while you lick your wounds."

He helps her to his feet, "Thank you, Marinette. I'll take my time coughing up fur balls and hiding them between your pillows while you're gone. Please, no rush."

She messes up his hair and shoves him towards her desk. "You better not, chat. I will hunt you down and shave you 'till your bald."