Miraculous Ladybug: One Shots

Honest Accidents

SONG OF THE SHOT:
Symphony - Clean Bandit

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The rickety creaking of rusty gas pumps blowing in the stormy wind swarmed Marinette's ears. She was located at an old, abandoned gas station that foreclosed half a century ago. The remains were comparable to fossilized and antiquated machinery that captured such whimsy to the girl.

A shimmering dusk settled upon the starry sky, illuminating the otherwise dark night. She sat atop one of the noisy pumps, making a habit of picking at her chipped red fingernail polish. Her constant loneliness was starting to take one serious hell of a toll on the girl.

The air had just begun its frost, despite the fact that Marinette was sporting a loose dress around her thin figure. The chill was hardly reaching her skin, her mind drifting everywhere elsewhere. She swung her barefooted feet about, almost in an unconscious manner.

"Princess?"

The unmistakable voice of Chat Noir echoed around her, forcing Marinette to glance back at him over her curved shoulder. "Hey Chat," she whispered, scooting over on the diminished pump so he could sit near her. "How's it been?" Chat Noir asked, genuinely wanting a real answer from the midnight headed girl. He noticed a slight shiver travel down her spine, reaching out to assuage the coldness Marinette was currently experiencing.

She lent into his warm arms wrapped around her, never wanting him to leave her again. "Busy. This is the first night I've been able to sneak away from my schoolwork and nightly patrols for a long while," she spoke truthfully. Her schedule had been ridiculously jam packed due to the near completion of her first semester of senior year of high school. It seemed as if everything was picking up speed, like that of a bicycle traveling relentlessly downhill. "Too busy, or just enough?"

Marinette sighed in thoughtfulness. "Only a slight bit more than what a normal person can handle but, I'll be just fine. Don't you worry," she said, ending with a ceremonial boop to his kitten nose, a customary motion the two had down pat. Chat scrunched his nose in slight protest, but allowed his Princess to do anything to him, as he never once complained of such torture.

"If it gets to be too much-"

"I know where to find you, Alley Cat."

"Good."

A weary silence fell on the two, falling like a cozy blanket of odd sorts. It was truly comforting just to be in each other's presence. Almost like nothing else in the world mattered.

He held out a paw, wordlessly offering her a dance. "One second," she dazedly responded, reaching for her phone. Turning on a soft, flitting ballad, Marinette allowed Chat Noir to whisk her off into a slow, suggestively romantic waltz. The two moved in a gentle rhythm, falling right into step. With her lack of shoes, wet dew could be felt in the crevices of her tippy toes.

He whirled and twirled her around, almost enough to make her dizzy and lose all sense of balance. Eventually, he halted with his haphazard, crazy moves and pulled her in tight. She sat her heavy head on top of Chat's shoulder. With the hand that was resting against her waist, tugged her hips nearer to his, ridding of a bothersome synapse between the two dancing bodies.

At one point, his hands traced both sides of her body, slowly making his way to her collarbones, fingering the thin edge of her floaty dress.

"What about you? What have you been doing recently?" Marinette inquired, quietly curious. "Roaming, hunting, gathering, some haunting when I feel up to it," he retorted, earning a snort of laughter from the girl. "No, I'm serious!" he countered. Marinette rolled her blue eyes, surprised that he hadn't done anything worse than that.

"If I were you, I'd have a whole list of people that I'd mess with. I guess you're just a better person than I am. I mean, I am the one who got you killed," she slightly lowered her voice, as she had already made a halfhearted peace about causing the unfortunate situation.

The once breezy night stood stiller.

"You know my death was completely my fault. I feel guilty that you feel guilty. So, let's acknowledge that my jumping in front of an attack that was meant for you was all of my own doing. It was stupid, seeing as how you would have missed the blow anyhow. I was the one who killed myself. Don't you dare forget that, M'Lady," Chat informed, never losing steady eye contact with her.

"But that akuma was-"

"Viscous. And there is nothing that can be done now," he whispered.

"I wish there was."

Chat could not allow his dear, sweet Ladybug to see his pitiful tears. So, he sat his chin on the comforting crown of her head. "Now, I'm just a lowly ghost who you visit every once in a while," Chat said, speaking quietly. Something about the way he spoke made Marinette shrivel up inside even more. "It's not all bad! Like I said, I get major kicks out of scaring people," he added, in feeble attempt to lighten the darkened mood.

"Chat?"

"Hmm?"

"Promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Promise me that you'll never stop loving me, even if my visitations slow down just a little bit."

"I think it would be impossible to decrease the amount of love I have for you, Bugaboo."

With that, Marinette arose to the tips of her dew filled toes, dragging him down by his sturdy neck to meet his lips. Initially, it felt real, like Chat was still alive and well, simply acting on his obvious feelings toward the super heroine. After a few seconds, she felt only air pulsate around her lips.

Chat Noir flew off with the wind, leaving a sullen girl behind. Upon deciding their dance was not yet completed, Marinette ceaselessly held her arms out, continuing their languid movements. The flaps of her billowing, knee length dress whipped around her small frame.

With all of her might, she tried with the best of her imagination to picture Chat's face above hers. It was all in vain.

Once others in the small town caught onto Marinette's semi nightly activities of talking to her dead boyfriend, she was viewed as the town crazy. Such a reputation should have made life more challenging, but she walked with a peaceful grace about her. Most of the worthy men of the area commonly lusted after the midnight haired girl, especially upon learning that she was otherwise known as Ladybug. When they were informed of the past Chat Noir, all pursuits were lost.

As for her, only one man's attention was enough. And he just happened to take on a different form than other guys. It was a saddening situation. But it was one she could live with, even if her partner had no life left to give.