"What would you do if I killed you right now?"

Chat laughed, a sound that seemed to have struck a chord in my mind for some reason. "Bring it on."

"You forget I'm Ladybug."

"You're not her."

My chest tightened, so I took a deep breath. "Right."

"I mean, you're strong in your own way!" He looked like he might explode from hurting me.

"W-D-Y-M?!"

"I mean, she - Ladybug - comes up with lucky charms that needs to be well thought out to be used. She beats around the bush, both with her powers as well as feelings. You're more straightforward. As far as I've seen, all the lucky charms you summoned give an easier answer to figure out. Something that even I can do." He laughed nervously. "That's saying something."

I blinked. Did he think he was foolish? "I don't think you're dumb. Just narcissistic." I smirked at the quick change in his expression from awe to dumbfounded. "Next question!"

He hummed in response, turning to the map he was working on. Circling some place on Asia, and scribbling something on the other notepad, he asked his question. "Who's your role model? If you remember?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. Maybe some architect?" He shrugged. "How about you?"

"Um." There was hesitation in his voice. Nevertheless, he continued. "Gabriel Agreste, I suppose. He's a great fashion designer."

"I didn't know you were into fashion!"

"It's an universal teenage thing. Aren't you into it, hypocrite?"

"Only when it's necessary."

"Ironic, seeing as Marinette wanted to be a fashion designer," he supplied, passing the completed map over to me along with the notepad. "You can copy them off. That way, they won't notice the change in handwriting." I nodded, accepting them, before starting to xerox his work. He shuffled around, retrieving my math homework. "Next?"

"You. . . like someone?" It was hard to ask, but I wanted to know; I loved each second of his attention, after all.

"No. . .not now." A simple answer to a simple question. It might have seemed bizarre that he chose that answer, given the way I was mostly convinced of his crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng. "Ladybug used to tell that my crush on her distracted both of us from performing our best. That's why. . . I decided it best to forego my feelings."
 
The atmosphere shifted, but my reckless heart did not wish to stop. "Will you ever love, again?"

He shrugged, setting his jaw and going back to the math homework. When I thought that was all the answer I could get, he responded, "Maybe, when Monarch is done and over with."

Silence reigned for a while. Nothing but the scratch of the nib against the paper, and the occasional ruffling of his hair by Chat was heard. Night fell outside the windows of my balcony. Crickets rose to their domain in the darkness, and tranquility settled. However, when it seemed to stretch for a long time, enough to be suffocating, he spoke up. "What about your love department?"

I shuffled, setting the map and the notebook to a comfortable position on the couch. Chat looked up from his place on the mat, his emerald eyes glowing in the light of the lamp. I felt a wave of déjà vu wash over me as my gaze deepened, tracing the faint emotions hidden beneath those gorgeous orbs. "It was always the eyes for me." My voice was very unlike that of Marinette's as I spoke. "Huge orbs. . . that would, oh, so innocently stare at me.

"As far as my memory serves, he treated me as a friend. . . a classmate, a vanmate. That was all I was. Attention is something I crave for. . .but he didn't give me that. Guess it was a heartbreak."

"I'm sorry." His ears drooped. "Perhaps, you'll find someone better. Someone who gives you the attention you crave for, Miss Attention-Seeker." The sympathetic smile turned to a smirk.

"You, pathetic senile old cat!"

"Ouch!" He feigned hurt, tossing an eraser my way. To his luck, it smacked my nose, sending a wave of numbness over.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

"Oh, c'mon, Lady-ette. You're supposed to wield one of the strongest miraculouses!"

I retorted by tossing the eraser back at him. It got tangled in his messy blond hair, eliciting a snort from him. "And you, sire?"

My response was greeted by soft, infectious laughter. The mood was much lighter, and I could feel the excited rumble of my stomach. It was not hunger, I was sure. These symptoms; they were not to be taken lightly.

Something sweet bloomed that night, I realized with horror. Something that would lead me to break the oath I had given to myself and, if I remembered right, Miss Snow.

Hard to find, harder to accept.

Feelings for Chat Noir.

Here's to the sixth chapter. I would love to hear your thoughts on this!

Thank you for reading!

Miyoko x