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Pitter patter... Pitter patter...

The feather light footsteps of Chat Noir running across the Parisian rooftops came as light as the falling rain and though the storm clouds hung heavy his night vision gave him visibility as clear as day. It didn't take him long to reach a certain rooftop, one he'd been visiting for a while now; the rooftop of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

He landed with a gentle thud on her balcony with an easy smile, until he saw the crying girl through the window. Marinette was crumpled into a mess of tears and paper; her sketchbook was open and littered everywhere was unfinished drawings and lists with samples of fabric carefully glued in place. Her eyes, normally sparkling blue, were scrunched, blotchy red and her face was twisted into utter despair. Chat felt a part of him twist and ache in the wake of her pain.

Tentatively, he knocked softly on the window with his knuckle and her eyes slowly travelled to meet his. She wiped her eyes stubbornly and let him in, turning away from him the second he stepped inside.

"Marinette -" he breathed, reaching out to catch her hand in his own but he was just a little too late. He realised now was not the right time for a pun. "What happened?"

When she turned to face him he could see the tear streaks up close and part of him broke because she was still so beautiful, even now, and it hurt him so badly to see her crying so hard and all he wanted was for her to be happy, damn it. Without thinking, he twisted a piece of her hair between his fingers and cupped her cheek in his palm.

"Chat ..."

Her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper and she broke again, her face crumpling up and tears streaming down her cheeks. Chat took her in his arms and held her as she cried into his shoulder, great sobs heaving throughout her whole body and his grip on her tightened. He didn't care how she got into this state anymore. All he wanted was to make her happy, because damn it against everything he felt for Ladybug, part of him loved Marinette so hard it hurt. It wracked him with guilt, but for the moment he needed to be there for her and as long as she was here he would hold her and make sure that whenever she was with him, he would make her his princess.

"I'm sorry -" she sniffed into his chest, "I'm being stupid -"

"Don't say that," he whispered, "please, don't ever say that." Without thinking, he kissed her forehead gently. She lifted her head to look at his blushing face but she wasn't angry. Instead she reached for his collar, running the leather between her forefinger and thumb. Pulling instinctively, she drew him down to her and their lips collided in a rush of heat, tears and pangs of guilt. Her hands ran wild through his hair; his were fixed to her waist, pulling her closer and closer until no space was separating them anymore, only the fabric of their clothes. Chat's breath was hot and desperate in her mouth and her lips were red and wet from kissing. When they drew away their gaze was met through half lidded eyes.

"Chat -"

"Are you okay?" Chat whispered, his hands clasping hers tight. She nodded with a suppressed sob.

"I am now."

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