Ladybug had ran away again; leaving him alone out in the rain as the heavens opened and cried tears along with her. It was clear to see she was broken over something; she was troubled and it broke his heart. But once again she denied it, instead doing the one thing she always did to protect her heart, she ran away. Her distant looks and sad smiles were all the evidence he needed of some sort of chaos making its way into her life, his ray of contestant light suddenly being taken over by dark shadows. She was beautiful and seeing such a face so sad, so broken, broke him too. He wanted to help her; he needed to help her, to let her know she could trust him. He wanted to listen—she needed to talk.

Chat Noir followed her, an action embedded so deep in his soul he was sure it was part of his DNA. Not a day would go by where he wouldn't help her, where he wouldn't follow her to the ends of the Earth and back. He wanted to be there for her so badly; his heart had been fully absorbed by her since the day he had found out she was none other than Marinette. His Marinette. His heart constantly yearned for her, wanting nothing more than for her to want him as much as he wanted her.

The reveal, though planned, had affected them both greatly. They had always been close, the change happening abruptly in their later collège days when he'd tried time and time again to place a kiss on her cheek, or invite her to see a movie, but that all changed once more the day the masks fell. It was almost as though a world of pain had been unveiled with their mask free faces; the wall between them transfering from the opaque and solid structure of brick to a fragile, transparent glass structure.

Looking into the watery blue eyes of the woman he was certain he loved, he could feel the pain of the hardships she faced with the Miracle Box and her guardianship, but that pain was minuscule compared to the pain of knowing she'd always belong to others...that she'd never belong to him.

From that day on, she dodged his moves like the plague; no longer allowing the friendly hand holding and whispered conversations to take place between the two of them, stopping the way they always seemed more than just friends.

He continued his search for where his Lady had seeked sanctuary; lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't seen where she'd headed to, instead knocking at each and every door as he passed hoping to catch a glimpse of his red and polka dotted partner in a hallway or a window — finally finding her in the local laundromat.

He watched outside the window, the rain beating against his hair and suit, rebounding in different directions as it tried to escape into the forming puddles. He watched as she paced the floor biting down hard on a gloved nail, a telltale sign that she was thinking about something deep, something equally scary and unplanned. His heart was calling for her as he pushed the door open and made his way in, a hope she would finally talk.

As the jingle of the bell caught her attention, she stopped and spun on the balls of her feet. Her eyes came directly into contact with his, as his big bulky boots pounded against the tiled floor, slowly and steadily, an clear sign he was there, and a sign he meant no harm.

She stilled, looking at him.

Was she expecting him to speak first?

A roar of thunder reverberated around them once more as Chat Noir stood chin held aloft, waiting for her to make the first move. She looked terrified as well as broken and he would do whatever he could to make it better, to make her smile. He took one more tentative step towards her, his arm out and reaching for her, only for her to recoil backwards out of his reach.

Ladybug shook her head, turning to continue her rhythmic pacing of the floor. Each step a match to the pounding in his heart as he stood and watched her internally argue with herself. He didn't understand what had happened. One minute they were fighting an akuma, once again resulting in him throwing himself into danger, protecting his everything—his Lady. The next minute he was being brought back from wherever he'd disappeared to. He wanted to pound it...she wanted to run. So, here they were; an awkward silence lingering in the air between them. The tension one of thick humidity creating a storm.

Looking around the area he noticed two fleece blankets abandoned in a basket; a symbol of kindness and a demonstration of honor. He'd come back and pay for them to be cleaned again, but right now they were to have a new home, a home on her shoulders— and his, wrapping them both in warmth and friendship. They were both soaked, and he could see the paling of her strawberry pink lips turning to a cold unloved blue as she dithered from the lingering effects of the outside storm.

He wanted to make her feel safe with him, for her to know he wasn't a teenager looking at a high pedestal, one where a lovely Lady perched upon the top. Instead he saw her exactly as she had come to see him—insecurities and all.

He moved, positioning the first blanket over his shoulders, knowing once he had the confidence to place hers onto her small fragile body and bring her into him, he wouldn't want to let go—ever.

As though approaching a tiny kitten, he walked with slight hesitation, the second blanket in one hand an indication of no harm. Encompassing her in the middle of his arms he moved to position the ends of the blanket in each hand, pulling it forward and onto her own shoulders, his eyes firmly placed on hers as he did so.

It was silent in the room, only the frequent turn of a machine, or dryer, or the comforting tap of rainwater against the window. The overflowing pipe on the edge of the storefront created a waterfall down the window, shielding them from the outside world.

Chat Noir moved his hands slowly from her shoulders, caressing down her upper arms, thumbs rubbing over each muscle as he moved. After a dragged out time drying her biceps, his larger hands moved to grip her wrists. He swore the hammering of his heart could be heard as the intimacy in the room grasped a tight hold on the atmosphere. He could feel the tension between them and he was sure she could too.

Chat didn't expect anything; why should he? He'd wished, he'd dreamed and he'd wanted but he wouldn't act. Not anymore.

She had been taken by others on and off for years, Adrien missing his chance by a day or two. Each time another dagger in his heart. She'd had another failed relationship recently, and, as luck would have it, a well timed akuma attack stopped the next suitor in his tracks.

So now, he was finally taking his chance once again.

His time was now.

Chat Noir's time was now.

Adrien's time was now.

...And he was going to show her exactly what she meant to him.

He continued brushing his thumbs over her wrists in search of her knuckles, knuckles he'd kissed more often over the past years to try and get her to understand the intensity of his continuing love; love he felt for both Ladybug and Marinette, after all, what was one without the other?

The thunder crashed once more outside, the lightning flash illuminating the room, and a sign the storm was overhead; they were trapped for a while.

So many times he'd comforted her in the rain, the droplets of water a perfect disguise for her tears, and the perfect backdrop of their story.

She looked up to him; her glistening blue eyes ready to unleash the feelings of hurt, of worry. The moisture on her lower lids was an easy indication the tears hadn't finished spilling. Her lip twitched. A tiny movement trying to display her broken smile, a smile thanking him once again for being there, for being with her.

Her next move was unexpected. Taking him off guard. She launched forwards and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head into his chest and nuzzling him; her safety blanket once more. His now redundant hands looped around her back, pulling her in close before exploring up and down her spine, her body relaxing as she took comfort in his. He prayed she could feel the love he was immineting. That she could feel exactly how much he loved and cared for her, that he was worth the chance.

Chat Noir buried his nose into her hair, using his claws to release the pigtails and allow it to run free.

Beautiful.

She was stunning with it tied up tightly, but when it was down and free, it was just the way she should be. Free from the pain and the hurt, from hiding her real feelings because that's what she did—pushed herself to one side for others; others who didn't matter.

He'd seen her at university a mere day before, taking refuge in Nino's car. She'd 'needed a moment', she'd said, denying him any chance to comfort her, instead he stood guard metres away, keeping a watchful eye out for purple butterflies or any other predators heading in the direction of his Lady. A Lady he would defend against the end of the Earth.

He wasn't sure, but he believed the shift in mood came from him. The recent 'scandal' posted on social media, linking him to another woman. But there was no other woman because his heart had firmly set itself on her, on being with her. This toing and froing they had started months ago resulted in more pain than pleasure.

After years of partnership he could read the signs so clearly. She hears a rumor about him dating, or falls on a picture of a girl kissing his cheek at an event and she runs. It's just one of her ticks; one that had increased when Adrien Agreste was known to her as Chat Noir.

It had been one too many times, he couldn't allow her to act that way anymore, as though the stories about him didn't affect her. He knew it affected him every time she met someone else, someone to replace him. The immense feeling kicked him hard in the gut.

This is where he wanted to be, and he knew for certain it was where he belonged. He just needed her to believe it too.

He turned away, catching her reflection in the cold, wet window, condensation from his hot breath hitting the glass and steaming up the glass. He reached out, unravelling one hand from around her back and stretching to the window, framing her reflected face with a heart.

"Let's stay for a while." He turned his head back to her, brushing a clawed hand through her hair. "Let me make you feel beautiful."

He just hoped this one time she wouldn't push him away, for once she wouldn't say goodbye and leave and that, finally, she'd let her emotions take control.

•••••

Looking into his eyes, she tried to remember how she had fallen completely in love with her partner?

Was it a moment when she knew who he was under the mask? In that moment did it hit her with such pure emotion and intensity that her heart felt like it was going to burst free and run around; wild and without a care, or had those feelings always lingered there?

The feeling that suddenly she could defeat the world single handedly, taking down one villain at a time. The increasing feeling of invincibility mixing effortlessly with flickers of vulnerability; becoming a toxic mix of feelings and emotions.

Did it happen the same way it did when she was younger? Like a lightning bolt striking down in the distance, or a roar of thunder igniting a flame in her heart and making her look into the eyes of this one person who was always standing in front of her, and even more frequently by her side. The wild fire being one she couldn't contain, and one she didn't want to — the feeling of warmth and protection; security and meaning was a feeling she longed to hold on to.

Did this all consuming love come from a simple act?

An act of well-being where her needs were put in front of anything else?

A shelter from a storm?

A warm blanket on a rainy day?

An umbrella to protect her from a storm?

Or was it an action which changed the chemistry between them?

A want for forgiveness after a misunderstanding?

A specific look?

A heart drawn on a window pane as cold rain beats against a warm room, a room filled with tensions and needs?

Or was something more life changing such as a sacrifice of a life to allow the other to live?

She had so many ideas of how she'd fall in love, how she'd meet 'the one' and fall head over heels like that of a Disney movie or romantic comedy? Her parents read stories to her, when she was a young girl, explaining how she was destined to fall deep and hard; so suddenly, that love at first sight was a sign of true, everlasting love and that fairytales did, actually, exist. What they didn't tell her was how love could develop and change, that these so-called 'happily ever afters' were phoney and unrealistic. Life didn't work the way of an unfairly treated stepsister, a girl locked in a tower, or a daughter stepping in battle to protect her father.

True love isn't about hard falling and fast—like she fell the first time.

It's the progression of lust, longing and loyalty—like she fell second.

She was lucky to experience them both. The sudden strike of lust turning into the undoubtable embrace of true love.

True love was the progression of a celebratory fist bump morphing over time into a gentle caress, hand against hand as fingers slowly become intertwined in a similar fashion to how their hearts had.

How her hug of surviving another battle had become a hug of survival, where the only way she knew she was alive was because he was holding her—a craving. To crave those long touches and warm arms wrapped around her body. To feel powerful and complete with the one person who'd seen her at her best and her worst — held together or broken.

But not just after a battle; she wanted him in the brightest of days and the darkest of nights; to hold onto them when she was scared and helpless, but also when that sense of fear was far off in the distance, and instead wanted to immerse them in the euphoria of your success.

Nobody told her how that one person would become her shelter from the storm both physically and metaphorically; giving her the security no inanimate object ever could; protection, warmth, a shield. That person became the thing she couldn't live without, the thing that kept her going with care and attention, the thing that helped her survive.

He didn't judge her, never, instead he became her strength and before she knew it he became her everything.

Her everything, who she had been loving for as long as she could remember. The person she knew she couldn't live without. Was it wrong to finally admit he was right all along? That they were meant to be together, that she struggled to breathe each day without seeing or hearing him and knowing he is alive, and he is there. That he was there for her.

Sometimes the scariest moments are the ones that are the most worthwhile; letting down your hair and freeing yourself from all the tight burdens that were restricting you from what you wanted, and more importantly, what you needed.

Your best friend.

Your partner.

The love of your life.

Sometimes it's worth taking the risk, and she couldn't hold it back forever; her eyes searching for the correct answer to a hanging question, a question of will they or won't they, except this time there was really no hesitation.

As fingers dragged carefully through the lengths of damp, matted hair only one thing mattered — the join of tender lips on a rainy day. A symbol of their love. A love which they'd fallen into once, twice, three times before finally taking the plunge and breaking the wall between them, shattering that fragile glass into a million pieces.

The blankets that were wrapped tightly around them were nowhere near a match to their own arms securely holding the other — warm real bodies.

It was right and it was real; them against the world.