"People want us to be what they like. I say, be you and wait for the right person to fall in love with that."

— Forbidden Love

CHAPTER EIGHT

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When you specifically tell someone to do something or give them instructions that are extremely specific, you would want that person to obey your word, wouldn't you? You would expect that person to listen to you for their own good, instead of letting their own stubbornness drive them back into trouble.

But not this girl.

Oh no.

She was... persistent.

She sure was a stubborn one, wasn't she? He'd been out close to the wall again when he heard her footsteps, followed by her difficult grunting as she purposely tried to climb over and make it safely over to the other side. Did he not specifically tell her to never come back? And in return to keep her away, given her his most trusted valuable? His prized possession which was a carefully crafted, one of a kind, arrow head?

Why in the world was she once again in his world? Any human who dared to come close had gotten some kind of warning from him– without them actually seeing him– and they had left, never daring to return. But this girl? This girl was different.

The raven-headed girl he'd met three days ago had 'accidentally' fallen onto his side of the wall. Now, she was simply allowing herself to fall over. What in gods name was wrong with the human species?

When she did stand to her feet to brush off her clothing, free from any dirt, her back was turned to him, and he took that opportunity to confront her. Although, he himself shouldn't have been this close to the wall in the first place, there was nothing to change the fact that he was already, and had already, communicated with a human being. Even though, he was not meant to be seen or talk with one of them.

"You again?" He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of her once again on his side of the wall, and the sudden voice apparently startled her greatly. She quickly whipped her body around a look of fear and slight embarrassment taking over her features. He offered her a look of slight confusion in return.

Then suddenly, her eyes went wide and she offered him a nervous laugh. "Oh hey!" She beamed up at him. "Just the uh... cat I was looking for!"

He titled his head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She nodded, and as he studied her further, he soon began to notice how she twirled her thumbs together in a nervous manner as she spoke. "I was wondering if you could... you know... come with me while I explore this place? Maybe show me around?" Then, that big smile she'd had a second earlier returned. "Like a personal tour!"

She smiles too much, was the first thing that crossed his mind.

Immediately, his eyes dropped, and narrowed ever-so-slightly. Of course, he thought. The simple human just wanted to stick her nose where it did not belong.

"No."

She gaped at him then. In return, he simply raised a single brow.

Apparently, that had not been the answer she was expecting. "What? Why?!"

And then suddenly, he wondered if she'd been expecting an one-hundred percent certainty of him actually saying yes.

"Hmm, let me see," he brought his clawed fingers up to rub at his chin, pretending to be in though– though, it didn't take a genius to catch onto his sarcasm. "Oh!" And then he snapped his fingers as if he'd found his answer. "Maybe because you do not belong here. That is a valid reason."

Marinette frowned, "And? Have you not heard that rules are meant to be broken?"

"Have you not heard that I do not care?"

Her mouth remained gaped open, and then, Marinette crossed her arms. "That was my line," she pouted, and then she dared to ask, "If you do not care, then you will let me pass?"

"No."

Her tongue clicked in annoyance. "Why not?!"

"Go home, girl." Instead of answering her question, he gestured to the wall behind her with no sense of emotion written on his face. "You do not belong on this side of the wall."

Marinette groaned and stomped her foot in frustration. "I will not leave! I went through enough trouble just getting here!"

He mumbled something that he knew would be unclear, before rolling his eyes once again. Taking a different approach for her to leave, Chat Noir asked, "Does some of that trouble have to do with the fact that you stole a man's clothing? I am sure the poor man would appreciate to have his trousers back."

His sarcasm was beginning to bother Marinette greatly– he could tell– and she frowned even deeper. "These are my clothes, cat. Just because I am a woman does not mean I cannot wear them!"

"Touché," he shrugged his shoulders, because he couldn't deny the truth behind her words.

There is a sudden moment of silence where neither of them dared to speak another word to each other. In that moment, Chat Noir began to inspect the girl (for some oddly reason dressed in man's clothing) from head to toe. The first thing that caught his eyes was her midnight black hair (almost blue to be exact), tied into two pigtails. It was barely visible from the hat she wore over her head, but he didn't miss it. He noticed how pale her skin was, and even noticed the tiny freckles which danced across her nose and on her cheeks. Not to mention that her cheeks were also tinted in a light pink color—

"What are you s–staring at?" Marinette asked, and he could tell she was holding back a nervous laugh. His ear twitched involuntarily, and by the look on her face when she noticed the movement, he was sure she thought the action was odd.

But what did it matter if she thought it was odd or not? Her opinion didn't matter to him.

He scowled, suddenly feeling angry. She had no right to look at him like that, as if he was distasteful. "What did you think I was looking at? The ground beneath your feet? I was looking at you, you fool. You are dressed like a man who looks like he lives on the streets, and has hygiene issues."

Marinette wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I do not!"

He begged to differ, but preferably doesn't bother to reply. Instead, he turned his body away from her– as if to walk away– but he stopped and turned his head to look over his shoulder and back at her. "I told you to leave. Even after giving you my prize possession in an agreement for you to stay away, you return."

"You can have it back if you want." Marinette offered immediately, which he suspected she would, and quickly began digging through the pocket of her coat to retrieve the arrowhead for him. He was genuinely surprised that she even carried it with her, but he wouldn't let her know that.

She pulled it out and displayed it out in her palm for him, hoping he will take it from her hand.

Instead, he shook his head. "Once it is given to another, it cannot be taken back by the giver."

That's what his mother taught him.

"Well then, maybe we can make another agreement?" Marinette suggested.

He shook his head again, this time fully turning his back to her before he replied, "I will not ask again. Go home girl, please."

He refused to face her again, instead keeping his back towards her and his posture perfectly still. He could feel her staring directly at the back of his figure, and he wondered somewhat what she was thinking.

Unaware to him, he had no idea Marinette was actually contemplating on leaving or not.

But no! She thought. Why should she have to listen to a him? A... male? She could make her own decisions for herself, could she not?

Ah, but she could, and for some odd reason, Marinette only sighed in defeat and cautiously asked, "Could you help me back over then?"

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