little by little

cast into time

It was three in the morning, and Chat Noir was asleep on his feet as he and Marinette danced along the Trocadéro in the pouring rain.

He wasn't even entirely sure how they had ended up there, but Chat had an inkling that it had something to do with Marinette's insistence that she find inspiration for a personal project. Being the amazing friend he is, he took her around Paris until it began to rain, and then they were soaked.

Marinette kicked up water with her drenched shoes, laughing at the way Chat sputtered. "After all I do for you!" he called after her retreating figure, voice nearly drowned out by the thunder. "You repay me with treachery!" He made a show of wiping himself off, knowing full well that it was fruitless; it was still very much raining.

"You say that like you're not already wet," she teased, peeling her bangs away from her eyes as she came to a rowdy stop in front of him. "Do you think we'll get sick from this?"

Chat waved her off. "Suit protects me." He shot her a look and pursed his lips. "But I suppose you can't say the same." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Marinette rewarded him by splashing him again. "I'm immune," she insisted with a scowl, sticking her tongue out. Plot twist: she wasn't immune, if the week-long cold she'd harbored for the entirety of the week prior had anything to say about it.

Chat grabbed her tongue between his pointer finger and thumb. "Oh, look. Now you can't whine to me about how sick you feel."

He tried very hard to suppress his laughter at the nasty glare she threw him, easily sliding her tongue out from between his wet fingers. "Har-har," she grumbled. "I didn't complain that much."

Laughing, Chat took her hand and twirled her good-naturedly. "You're right, you didn't. I just like your pouty face."

That earned him a wet smack over the head after she regained her balance from the sudden spin. "Mean kitty. Why do I tolerate you, again?"

Chat batted his eyes at her crossed arms and cocked hip. "Because I'm lovely and you're lovely and we're lovely together."

Marinette looked unconvinced.

"...And you love me?"

She seemed to consider for a moment. "Do I?"

The sound Chat made in response was somewhere between an offended huff and a muffled groan. "How dare you."

Marinette giggled behind her hand, raindrops sticking to her long eyelashes like morning dew on grass. The rain has lightened up by then, and the mist dancing around them as an afterthought was a calm contrast.

Chat and Marinette meandered over to the Trocadéro steps and sat down side-by-side. She had this curious glimmer in her eyes that he couldn't explain, and for a moment, Chat considered asking her what she was thinking about.

He immediately discarded the idea; it wasn't his business to know every little thing that troubled her or gave her pause.

She relinquished a long sigh as if the high of their trek had finally been pulled out from deep within her. Chat often found that he forgot what time it was when he was with Marinette, but he supposed it had to have been a while.

Her head found his shoulder as she leaned into him. Lately, she'd become more comfortable casually touching him. The line of her body was cold and slick as he rested his glove-covered hand on her other side, but heat thrummed beneath her skin like a live wire.

Sopping wet, Marinette fell asleep right there. Chat was surprised at the sudden dip into unconsciousness, but then he thought about it, and he realized it was reasonable for her to crash after running around for what was likely hours.

Had it really been that long?

Maybe it was just him that fell victim to time when he spent it with her, odd as that sounded. She simply had this way about her—this pull, this energy, this smile—and Chat didn't feel like it was crazy to be addicted to someone the way he was addicted to Marinette Dupain-Cheng, but what did he know?

Her presence was simply something else entirely.

Marinette's lips parted as she breathed softly. When raindrops fell from her bangs, they landed like soft embraces on her nose, which scrunched in response to the sudden attention.

She had a tendency to murmur things in her sleep; Chat had realized as much a while ago—it had been a couple of weeks since he'd found her asleep on her balcony.

"Gotta...homework," she mumbled, cheek squished against Chat's soldier as her eyebrows creased.

It was a good thing it was Saturday night, otherwise they both would have been screwed for school.

Chat moved slowly, gently hooking his arms beneath her legs as he turned. Marinette grumbled unhappily at the loss of contact—she was a touchy person in sleep—but quickly relaxed into his chest when Chat hoisted her up into his arms bridal-style.

She murmured some more things to Chat as he, with aching caution so as not to jostle her, made his way back to her balcony. He'd discovered that he could find Marinette's balcony from any place in the city now; when an akuma attacked, his eyes naturally flitted there just to ensure that she was safe. If he couldn't see the balcony, he would find a vantage point where he could. More often than not, she wouldn't be there, but he liked to think that she was safely tucked inside of her room.

He liked to think he had control over whether she was safe or not.

Obviously, the same could be said for every other citizen, but...

Chat shook his head, feet touching down to Marinette's balcony.

Those were thoughts for another time.