Chat...Blanc? (EDITING)

Chapter 5 - Tough

Marinette's POV

BEEP! BEEP! BE- I slammed my hand down on my alarm clock, stopping the annoying ringing. I lift my head groggily out of my safe-haven of pillows and blankets, and everything comes rushing back to me.

Chat Blanc.

The very thought of him infuriates me. Who does he think he is?! I thought angrily. I stomped into my bathroom, taking a shower and slipping on my clothes.

I was wearing a normal white shirt with my normal pink leggings, as well as a red scarf wrapped around my neck. I stuck my arms through a red, warm, cotton cardigan, unbuttoned. I slipped on some tan leather boots, and some silver jangling bracelets on my wrists.

 I brushed my hair and stared in the mirror. My face was red, my eyebrows creased in silent rage. I brushed my teeth and came out of my bathroom, and I saw something strange on my desk.

A box? I thought. I popped open the lid and inside was a slip of paper. A note. I picked it up delicately and read it. It said;

To my Cinnamon Princess,

Wow! You sure are an angry one. Good arm, too.We will see each other soon, even if I do not assume my super hero persona. Oh, and it is not nice to throw things at someone's head. Have a wonderful day, Princess!

                                                                                 Chat Blanc

I stared at the note silently, anger boiling in my veins. I crumpled up the note and threw it to the ground, where I stepped on it. "Chat Blanc," I grumbled. "You are gonna regret messing with me."

I slung my bookbag over my shoulder and trudged down the stairs, into the bakery. "Gotta remember to come home and open it up for a couple of hours," I murmured to myself. I snatched a croissant, stuffed it in my mouth, and walked out the door.

As I walked to school, I saw Adrien pull up in his car. Adrien hopped out, bag slung over his shoulder, and walked to school with a dreamy look in his eyes. Then he turned to look at me. He smiled, a natural easy smile, but something was off. His eyes... they sparkled with a mischievous light.  Making Adrien look like he knew a secret. 

But before I could confront him (pssh, like I would do that anyways), he turned around and continued to trudge up to school. I followed suit, quickly bouncing up the steps. I ran inside the hallways, and scooted to a stop when I saw Alya bounding towards me. Alya didn't stop, though.

She crashed into me, surrounding me in a huge hug. She squeezed me tightly, almost to the point where I was suffocating. "Can't--breathe-!" I wheezed. 

Alya released me and giggled; "Sorry!" She took a step back and examined me closely, her eyes in a squint. "So you're feeling okay now?" she asked. I spread my arms out and shook my hands, doing jazz-hands. 

"I'm feeling just peachy," I said with a smile. Alya regarded me with a warm smile and linked my arm with hers. And with that, we marched off to class.

-*-

Adrien's POV

Marinette stared at me, slight recognition flicking across her face. But before she could blink, I grinned at her and bounded up the stairs leading to the school. I ran faster through the halls, and slipped into the classroom. I slumped in my seat, a mischievous grin plastered on my face. Marinette had looked... breathtaking. Not that that was surprising. 

Sometimes my Cinnamon Princess was like a dribble of sugar on a tart. 

Sweet, unexpected, and too much could be intoxicating. 

But when I thought about it, maybe I could approach Marinette again. Maybe she liked me better as regular Adrien. I'll give it a second try, I thought lazily. I tapped my fingers against my desk, already bored. And then I saw Marinette come in.

For the second time that day, I was completely blown away on how good she looked. Her stunning eyes pierced mine as she breezed past me and into her seat, giving herself a regal air of calm. Alya trailed behind her, giving me a quick glare before sitting down.

-*- 

The day lulled by, the only times I was fully awake when Marinette was near. Even though I know she only recognizes me as her Chat Blanc, I'm still hoping that she'll fall for me. Only one way to find out...

-*-

Marinette's POV

It was after school, and it was raining. Hard. Very, very hard. I stood at the front door, waiting for the rain to end, when Adrien came out. He had a black umbrella, and we were both silent. The setting reminded me of the first day we met. He was even wearing the same outfit!

Adrien stopped before walking out in the rain, umbrella ready. He shifted his head, locking eyes with me, and we stayed like that. "Adrien, about yesterday, when you...asked...-" Adrien turned and faced me completely, his green eyes boring into mine. He held his hand out, which I did not take.

"Marinette... I wanted you to know that I made a move on you because... because I was hurt, and vulnerable." He stared at the ground. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words filled me. Instead, I glanced behind my shoulder, not looking at my crush. "Marinette... even though I was hurt, and you were scared, I want you to know that... You will always be my Cinnamon Princess." 

I turned around to Adrien, and he rushed in and kissed me. On. The. Lips. God, he was beautiful, but I didn't want it to happen like this. I pushed him away, shock filling my heart. Did he just? I thought. Adrien grinned at me with his green eyes, and I saw it. The mischievous light.

Wait... he just kissed me. 

Without my consent.

And I cracked. 

I swung my fist with such force it made a slight whistling sound as it glided towards Adrien's face. I heard a startled shriek as my fist collided with Adrien's face, sending him sprawling onto the wet pavement. My fist throbbed with pain, but I didn't care. I was done being manipulated. Angered. A toy for a boy. 

Adrien managed a hysterical giggled as he slowly got up, not looking at me. When he did, I took in a sharp gasp. 

His left cheek was a mottled red and purple, already swelling. From his mouth dripped crimson blood, trickling down the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the wet stone. Adrien rubbed his chin, and gave me a maniacal grin. But the worst thing was his eyes. 

They were a yellowish-orange, piercing and thick. They wandered around lazily, as if he was drunk. 

His eyes, they were enchanting and dangerous and deadly, and they reminded me of someone I knew.

-*- 

When I woke up the next morning, I felt no emotion. I hadn't gotten a visit from Chat Blanc last night, and I had immediately faded into sleep when I got home. I didn't even open the bakery for a few hours.

I did my usual morning routine, taking a shower, brushing my teeth. I left my hair down, letting it frame my face. I slipped on some black leggings, a red t-shirt, and some black combat boots. I hastily put a black leather glove on my right hand, concealing the bruise. I completed my outfit with a black leather jacket, the shoulders studded with plastic diamonds. 

My overall look was very biker. Very rebellious. 

Courageous.

Strong.

I wasn't going to be pushed around anymore. 

I am no longer shy.

No longer weak. 

I am tough.