°•☆ "Love, 
to me is stumbling around in the dark
trying to find the right words to describe the feeling I get when she smiles while she sleeps."

-Atticus °•☆

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✾ ༄ ꧁꧂ ༄ ✾

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“I don’t know her…”

The words hit Alya like a sack of potatoes. Her eyes narrowed, quickly glancing down at the screen of her phone that displayed an obvious photo of Marinette.

   "Erm...yes...you do," the brunette refuted. "She's you..." 

Marinette visibly felt her eye twitch the moment the reporter flashed her the mugshot of herself from the many years ago she had gone underaged drinking at Chloe's New Year's party and was caught. 
   She knew those things were public records, but she never thought the press would be that impertinent to dig up old mugshots of her teenage years and hunt her down for an interview. 

All Marinette wanted to do was grab her pepper spay and be on her merry way. She had only a few minutes for her break and with this new promotion she was ten times more fastidious when it came to her punctuation. 
She was working directly beneath the owner of the Agrestes' fashion line and the last thing she wanted was to be held hostage.

She had promised Chat Noir that she wouldn't speak to the press and she sure as hell wouldn't tip off the serial murderer or incline anymore copycats that wanted to prey on any women that resembled her likeness. 

"I can't talk..." Marinette deadpanned, slowly spinning on her heels and clenching her fists. She pressed her lips together and trained her eyes to the nearest store so that she could find the nearest way out.
  She could feel her heart squeezing within the confines of her chest, but she sure as hell wouldn't be harassed nor hounded in broad daylight. 
She had enough of that the night before when she was sure she wasn't going to make it home only hours prior. 
  
  The young woman sighed, her blood pushing through her veins the moment she could hear the reporter follow her relentlessly without any sort or trepidation. 

  "The public has the right to know of any copycat murderers out on the streets preying on the women of Paris. You have the responsibility to keep those women safe-" Alya retorted, her voice wobbling as she followed.
  Marinette stopped abruptly, her brow furrowing as Chat Noir's voice continued to bounce around in the inner corners of her mind.
"And the public has that right to remain safe," Marinette retorted, turning to face Alya with a grimace of frustration. "If I say anything about what had happened to me, if I mention anything about a copycat murderer I could inspire hundreds of other copycats to continue doing the very same thing. We could put more women in danger." 
Alya pressed her lips together, her chest growing tight as her eyes remained trained on Marinette. 

  "Then I had the right to at least report that there was an incident and that there were no injuries..."
Marinette simply shrugged, a small blush dusting her cheeks as she could recall the night she was attacked and how she only made it unscathed thanks to Chat Noir. 

  She also vividly recalled how he said if she wanted to see him, she could simply ask and he'd come to her.
All sorts of strange things happened that night, but she was glad that it was over. She was sure she wouldn't be able to walk without looking over her shoulder again. 

"I think that would be something you could always ask the police. I don't think I'm interested in speaking to the media," Marinette elucidated with a small smile, a small wave of confidence suddenly enveloping her body the moment she realised that she finally had one over on this one. 
At least this move would be safe. 
Had something leaked to the tabloids, it would be due to police mishandling; it wouldn't be due to anything she had done. 

She'd be in the clear by that point, but she had confidence Alya wouldn't get anywhere with this story. 
Alya sighed, pressing her lips together as she reached up and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a small glare.

  "Sounds fair," she replied, moving her eyes up towards the young woman with a scorn look. "I'm glad you're okay and I understand where you're coming from. I consider what you've said about tipping off a copycat killer. I understand you want to prevent more assaults and possible murders..." her voice trailed off. "But I can always report your story and keep you anonymous, there are strangers worried about your well-being. It's just my job to report the facts to the public."

Marinette pressed her lips together, her blue eyes trained on the brunette with a tight chest. She remained quiet as she had the sense that this reporter was new to the business. Working under the Agreste name, she was approached by the tabloids often, but never like this before. 

   Marinette remained quiet, exhaling as she lowered her glance, listening as she could hear Alya turn on her heels and walk away. 
   She was right, she was worried about tipping off a copycat murderer, but she couldn’t tell why she was so scared of revoking Chat Noir's advice. 
It wasn't like she knew him on a personal level. He was just some dude in a cat suit who happened to save her life. 

A small blush began to coat her cheeks as she was left with her thoughts once more. 

  In a street full of crowds of people, she suddenly found herself alone. She reached up, tucking some hair behind her ear as she turned. Her blue eyes began to rapidly glance around for shops that could possibly have any tools to defend herself.

It had been a scary situation the night before and it certainly left its mark on her. She didn’t want to take the risk and end up defenseless like she had. 

  Marinette felt her heart begin to squeeze within her chest as she was suddenly enveloped in a sensation of paranoia. She needed to grab her things and make it back before her break was over. She didn't want to get on the bad side of her new boss.

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✾ ༄ ꧁꧂ ༄ ✾

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Marinette was tired. She was a little surprised to return to work and not see Adrien, but she had no complaints. He was the new owner of the company and he was thrown into that position rather suddenly. She was more than sure he had a million and one things to do. To do both the paperwork and the modeling, she was sure his schedule was filled with all sorts of things. 

If one thing was for sure, it was that she was incredibly grateful that she made it to the bus stop in one piece. 

  Marinette wondered if she'd see the report regarding her attack the night before but she was dreading it. She kept her promise that she wouldn't say anything about what happened, and she hoped the investigators on the case wouldn't say much about the situation if they wanted to be careful. 

She truly felt bad that she couldn’t give the reporter her big break, but she simply couldn't take that risk. 

  Marinette stepped into her apartment, immediately sliding off her heels and setting them aside. She had every intention to take her routine shower but she was so emotionally and physically drained - she was more than willing to simply sleep in her work clothes and call off the next day, but the workaholic within her denied her that right. 

The young woman trudged to her bedroom, the plans for the following day already sprawling out within the corners of her mind as she began to drag down her pantyhose and ball them up. 

  Marinette simply ran her fingers down the zipper of her pencil skirt and allowed it to drop to the floor. Her fingers moved up towards the buttons of her blouse and she mindlessly undid the buttons of her clothing and drew it away from her body until she was simply standing in a pile of her clothes.

  Marinette ran her hand up her adjacent arm and she sighed, closing her eyes as she faced the curtains of her balcony. 

  
   ○• "Don't worry, you won't even know I'm around. Just ask to see me, if you want to see me. " ○•

Marinette furrowed her brow as Chat Noir's voice echoed inside of her head.

  Just ask to see him? 

What in the world could that have meant? 

Marinette didn’t have the energy to wonder about it, but she knew it would be awkward to call for him while she stood there in her favorite pink and white panties and bra. 

   A small blush had started to coat her cheeks and Marinette had begun to wonder once more if he was watching. 
It would only make sense, if she called him and he showed up, he would see her in her underwear. 
   
Marinette shook her head, picking up her clothes and placing them into her washing bin with wide eyes.

  Now she was just being silly.

She had no time to call Chat Noir or summon him with an imaginary paw print Chat symbol. 

   She needed her shower and she needed to get her ass to bed so that she could be up bright and early for work the next day.

She'd figure out Chat Noir's hieroglyphics some other time.

Though it was true that she couldn’t help but be curious, regardless.