Seconds passed as Lila studied him. Then her posture shifted, relaxing by inches, and her face smoothed out into a semblance of friendliness. When she spoke, her voice was deceptively soft.
"Listen, Chat. I’m sorry I was rude. It’s just a little hard to let go of old grudges.” She made her way to the balcony railing, leaning against it with her chin in both hands. “This isn’t something I like to admit, but the reason I disliked Ladybug in the first place was because I blamed her for ruining my chances with Adrien. It’d be petty to cling to that, knowing what I know now. He really isn’t worth my peace of mind.”
She averted her eyes, a pretty picture of embarrassment. “Let’s start over, okay? I can’t take back my mistakes, but at least this way he won’t hurt anyone else.”
God, she was good. As real as a photograph. If she hadn’t kissed him as Chameleon; if she hadn’t bullied Marinette; if she hadn’t gone so far as to try and get her killed—
“Don't worry about it," he yawned. “I might not believe you about the day of the week, but I do believe you about Adrien Agreste. It’s a cat thing, you know? We’ve got asshole radar.”
Lila opened her mouth—perhaps to point out that Chat was a boy in a cat-themed costume, not an actual, technical cat—but seemed to think better of it.
“Good,” she said instead. “Because someone should deal with him before he gets his claws in any deeper. I’m not in your place, but if I were, I think I’d want to pay him a visit.”
“Whoa," he said sharply. "Are you serious, Lila? I’m not about physically hurting civilians. At all.”
“I know, Chat. And I know how it sounds. But Adrien is famous, and his dad is rich. No matter what he does, no matter who he does it to, he’ll never face consequences for his actions.” Her voice dropped to a persuasive hum. “The longer you leave him to his own devices, the more damage he’s going to do.”
Chat sat up, stretching out the kink in his shoulders, before shifting on the balcony railing to face her.
“I take it you have proof, then?”
She blinked. “Proof?”
“Of Adrien doing something bad enough to justify a Cataclysm to the face, besides pissing you off by putting you in the friend zone.”
Lila pinched her nose in frustration.
“It's not as easy as you think,” she said flatly. “Adrien has the world convinced that he’s perfect. I could accuse him of murder, and a dozen of his stooges would crawl out of the cracks to say he was scheduled to meet the Prime Minister, or receive a medal of honor, or nurse a starving kitten back to health, or whatever.”
“So, let’s get this straight. You don’t have proof.” Chat raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Not so much as a photo where he has spinach between his teeth.”
Lila brushed back a long strand of hair and gnawed her lower lip absentmindedly. Turning away from her, he tipped back his head, studiously staring at the stars overhead.
"It doesn’t matter,” she said eventually. "Ladybug trusts you, Chat Noir. Paris trusts you. You can do whatever the hell you want, and they’ll fall over themselves to find reasons to defend you.”
“Listen, Lila. Even if I could beat him up—and I’m not saying I would, just that I could, I could totally take Adrien with my hands behind my back—”
She snorted.
“—the only thing it would accomplish is giving him something to use. If he spins it the right way, I could wind up losing my miraculous. I could lose my lady's trust for good.”
