"I'm breaking up with you."
Marinette blinks blankly a few times at Chat, trying to regain a coherent thought process after a greeting like that. Once she's grasped the meaning of his words, she raises an eyebrow, still breathless.
"I didn't know we were dating," she says saucily, chest heaving.
"Of course we are. Didn't you read the article about Chat Noir's star-crossed lover? Adrien is starting to look like a constellation prize. . . eh?" She knees him in the hip, making it clear she's not amused. His grin is cheeky - if a bit pained - and he's haloed by the sunset streaming in from the window above. It leaves his face shadowed, but his eyes still smolder even as he smiles. His weight burns into her, heavy and hot, and it makes it hard to concentrate, but somehow she manages.
"You are a mood-killer," she says, sticking her tongue out at him.
Chat's hand flexes on her wrist as he leans back in and runs his tongue over hers, kissing her stupid. She gasps and tries to keep him close with her free hand, but she's too dazed to respond fast enough. He grins again as he breaks away and looks down at her. "Cat got your tongue." His eyes glitter cattishly, voice trembling with lack of breath. "I sincerely a- paw -logize, Princess, but this is im- purr -tant."
She goes limp against the covers, eyes fluttering, as her heart races erratically. "Three in a row? Really?." Her free hand begins to run through the locks of his hair gently despite the looming threat in her voice and his grin softens as he starts to purr, low and sweet, at the back of his throat. He lowers himself down, face against her throat, and once he's released her trapped wrist, she uses that hand to play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
"Did you talk to your dad?" she asks softly, gaining composure.
"Mm," he affirms absently as his breathing slows.
She tries very hard not to think about what it had to be like. What kind of man his father must be, and how disappointed she is. That someone she's looked up to as career goals might actually be one of the worst kind of people imaginable. That Adrien - dear, sweet Adrien - is a victim of neglect. "How did it go?"
"I think it went okay." He pauses before adding, "It just felt good. To fight for myself for once." He closes his eyes and rubs his face against her neck as if in approval of her hands. She feels his eyelashes flutter against her, feels how his whole body relaxes into hers and tears prickle her eyes.
She never understood what his home life was like. Marinette knew Adrien had been lonely but she hadn't realized that all the spaces of warmth in his body had been cruelly carved out by his very own father. She doesn't know anything about his mother - Adrien mentioned once that she left. Did she die? Did she abandon him with a cold-hearted man who had no penchant for kindness? Did she just go missing?
Instead of asking those questions, for now, she runs her fingers through his hair and blinks the tears back, grateful for her own parents, who love her unconditionally (even if they aren't happy with her right now). For now, she'll let Adrien fill himself with her soft touches and her tenderness and her overflowing affection for him. She hopes he can feel her heart.
"Are you okay?" he asks, voice riddled by his purring. "You're all tense."
Marinette frowns, but she might as well indulge her thoughts. That's what partners did anyway, right? Besides, she wants to understand. She wants him to know, more than anything, that he's not alone. "Sometimes you talk about your father with love in your voice," she says.
"And you're curious?" He pauses for a long moment and she thinks at first that he's not going to reply, but then he murmurs against her throat. "When my mother was still around, my father was warmer. Still absent, but warmer. He used to laugh. He used to touch my hair and smile. He made promises that he would break, but at least he promised me something, back then. I think his constant absence ruined my mother's perception of both of us. One morning, about three years ago, she went for a walk and never came home."
