#I had picked Milan as a guess because fashion for Marinette and I had gotten a response of someone being surprised by it

[imthepunchlord]

[komorebirei]

The Water Was Never Afraid - Chapter 15: Indulge

(AO3)

I’m already out… it can’t hurt. I’ll just see if she’s home, Chat Noir reasoned.

He did a swift about-face by the Louvre and made his way back toward the Ȋle Saint-Louis.

It was Sunday evening, the sun was still out, and he had just finished his brief meeting with Ladybug. Nothing remarkable, as usual, but it was nice to get out and stretch his legs.

The week had been particularly busy, with deadlines looming, and Adrien had been working into the evening nearly every day, taking breaks only to spend time with Kagami or his father.

That meant no clandestine rendezvous with Marinette.

Which wasn’t to say that he didn’t incessantly think about her. All he had been wanting to do all week was to don the magic suit, vault across Paris, and throw twigs at his Princess’ balcony doors until she came out.

However… self-control.

Now, though, fate had brought him somewhat near her apartment, and in the supersuit no less, so he latched onto the excuse to indulge in a visit.

As he crossed the Seine, his enhanced hearing picked up something subtle in the air. Music, if he could call it that.

When he arrived, the French doors were thrown open, and he could now clearly hear the sounds of a piano coming from within.

“Princess,” he called out, trying to sound suave instead of desperate.

The sound of the piano stopped, and Marinette’s head peeked out the door. Her eyes immediately locked onto his as he perched on the branch.

“Why, Princess,” he affected a dramatic tone, “I decided to go out on a limb and hazard a guess that you were home. And how happy I am that you are! You look radiant, sweet Princess.”

“Oh, Minou,” she rolled her eyes and indicated with a gesture that he was welcome to her balcony. “Such a clown, as always.”

“Well, this humble jester would be delighted to have the honor to make his Princess laugh.” He bounded onto her balcony and gave her a deep bow.

“Chat, you’re too much!” Marinette laughed, shoving him lightly.

Chat Noir melted under her touch. Do that again, Princess. He trailed her as she made her way back toward the French doors. “Did I hear a piano? I didn’t know you played.”

“I don’t, as you can probably tell. Though, I’m trying to learn.” Marinette shrugged and looked over her shoulder at Chat, one hand on the door. “I just got home, so I was unwinding a little before getting down to work. Wanna come in?”

Chat nodded gratefully. “You have to work tonight?” He tried to recall whether he was supposed to know she worked at Gabriel or not, and decided to play it safe. “Where do you work, Princess?”

“I’m an intern for Gabriel… and it’s not that I have to, I really just want to be prepared. This week we’re presenting winter concepts and I want to put together a few fabric samples to demonstrate my ideas, since some of them might be hard to understand from just sketches.”

“So thorough. I love that about you, Marinette.”

She turned to look at him, and her blue eyes were so clear that he was afraid for a moment she could see him through the mask, that the way he’d said it was too ‘Adrien’ and not enough ‘Chat.’ Did he cross the line? Friends complimented each other like that, didn’t they?

“Well, then, Princess,” Chat grinned, laying it on thick to cover his insecurity. “Back to the topic of piano. What piece are you learning?”

“Well…” Marinette twisted a lock of hair between her fingers in an adorable nervous gesture. “I mean, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1? I read online that it’s a good piece for beginners and I thought it was pretty… I kind of know how to read music from playing the violin for a couple years in école, but it’s been a while and I’m extremely slow.” She giggled nervously as she made her way to an electric piano that was set up on the side of the room.

“Is this piano new?” Chat hovered behind her as she sat down on the bench.

“Yeah, I just got it this week.” Marinette continued to play with her hair self-consciously. “Kind of an impulsive purchase, but… I’ve been wanting to learn an instrument for a while. I love music, and it’s nice to have a hobby for when I need a breather from designing.”

“Hmm… that makes sense.” Chat smiled at her fondly. “Why piano?”

Marinette blushed, inexplicably. “Piano’s a good instrument… I mean, a lot of people start with piano, right?” She laughed—the kind of laugh intended to diffuse embarrassment.

Chat cocked his head, curious about the reason behind her obvious discomfort.

“Okay, I’ll admit it.” Marinette twisted on the bench to face him, wearing a sheepish expression. “The reason I picked piano is… I have a friend who plays the piano. Since I’ve known him, I’ve paid attention to piano music more, and it’s inspired me to start learning.”

Chat’s breath caught. Could that friend be him, perchance? Was the dusting of pink on her cheeks only a result of his rose-colored glasses, or was she really blushing? “Ah… really?”

“Yes, he plays very well. It’s because of him that I love the piano.” Marinette’s eyes crinkled in an earnest smile, then she turned back to the keys and laid her hands on them tentatively.

Chat Noir was afraid to ask who that friend might be. At least, uncertainty allowed him to indulge in hope that he had inspired Marinette in some way. He reached out and raised one of Marinette’s hands slightly, careful not to scratch her with his claws. “Raise your hands and round your fingers. Like this.” He demonstrated with his own hand.

Marinette looked at him in awed surprise. “Hold on, Chat Noir, you know how to play?”

“A little…” He shrugged in faux modesty. “I’ve played since I was five, after all.” He gave her an exaggerated wink to show he was being light-hearted and was only pretending to boast.

“Oh, I didn’t know!” Marinette squealed. “Play something!”

He lifted his hand and waved his fingers. “Can’t, Princess. Have you seen these clawsome paws?”

Marinette pouted.

He probably could have played, but there would be a lot of clicking, and he’d scratch her brand new piano. Plus, he didn’t want to dissuade her from trying. He grinned. “Maybe if you meet me as a civilian.”

“Don’t be silly, Chat. Okay, at least help me then, and don’t laugh. I’m horrible.”

“No, you’re just a work in progress. Now, enough attempts to get out of playing.” He nudged her. “Go ahead.”

She played the opening chords, with long pauses in between, looking back and forth between the sheet music and her hands. When the melodic line was supposed to start, she abruptly folded her hands in her lap. “Ugh. I can’t.”

“What are you talking about, Princess?” Chat cried. “You were doing great!”

“That’s as far as I’ve gotten so far.”

Chat stroked his chin. “It might help if you started memorizing measure by measure, so you don’t have to figure out the notes each time. When I was first learning, I took it slow figuring out the way the piece was supposed to sound and where my hands were supposed to go. I couldn’t play anything up to speed until I had it memorized. But the more you get used to processing the score, the easier it gets to sight-read.”

“That seems like a good tactic—I’ll try. Thanks, Chat.” Marinette smiled. “Anyway, I don’t want to bore you with this.”

“I’m not bored at all, Princess. I’m actually really excited you’re learning to play. If you want to continue, I’ll help you.”

“Help me?”

“Put your hands on the keys. Let’s pick up where you left off…”

When she did, he shifted her fingers around so they were on the right keys, and nodded. She pressed. He tapped the fingers on her right hand one by one to indicate the melodic notes. She followed his lead.

They continued like that for some time, not speaking. The stuttering rhythm of chords played out of time was the only sound that filled the space.

“See? You played the whole first page. That’s not hard, is it?” Chat’s hand lingered on hers.

“I guess not.”

Chat let go and stepped away painfully. “Keep practicing, Princess. You’ll be amazing in no time.”

“I don’t know about that, but… thanks for your help, Chat Noir.” She gave him a bright smile. “Would you like some macarons? Maman brought some over when she came to visit this morning.”

“Sure, Princess. Yes, please.” He caught himself before saying, ‘I missed the Dupain-Cheng macarons’—Chat Noir hadn’t ever had any, not even during that misguided brunch eight years ago. He took a seat at the table—solid polished wood, stained a rosy brown.

“With tea? Or coffee?” Marinette called from the kitchen area.

“Whatever you’re having.” Chat played with the cuffs on his suit and looked around her apartment. He had been so distracted by his revelation last time, he hadn’t really paid much attention to his surroundings.

The space wasn’t large, but it felt bright and inviting. The white walls were decorated with framed fashion illustrations by other designers, among which Chat Noir recognized his father’s work. White shelves built into recessed areas of the walls were lined with books—mostly related to fashion or art, but there were some novels and books of poetry as well. “Milan Kundera?” he asked, glimpsing a title he didn’t expect to see.

“I love his writing!” Marinette piped up cheerfully. “It’s beautiful. The Unbearable Lightness of Being really left an impression on me.”

“I read it a few years ago. I don’t remember all that much about the plot, except that I really liked it.”

“It wasn’t so much the plot that I liked about it,” Marinette mused. “More the way he described things. And captured the essence of people and emotions.”

Chat nodded, making a mental note to read it again.

The palette of Marinette’s decor had expanded beyond the pinks of her adolescence. Splashes of color brightened the room—an orange armchair, a fuschia vase. A string of colorful mini paper lanterns dangled from one corner of a curtain rod to the floor.

The flat was clean, cheerful, and warm, just like Marinette.

She soon joined him with macarons and two cups of tea. “I hope this is okay. Oolong tea—I don’t put sugar in it, but I can get some for you if you want…?”

“No sugar. Thanks, Princess.” He grinned, accepting the refreshments. The macarons were green and pink-orange. “What flavors are the macarons?”

“Matcha and passion fruit.”

Chat Noir couldn’t stop grinning. “My favorite!”

“Which one?”

“Uh…” Chat Noir wondered how common it was to have passion fruit as a favorite flavor. Marinette had already found out today that he could play the piano. How many clues could he get away with dropping before she figured him out? Though it was tempting the test the answer to that question, he decided to play it safe. “Both? I like them both.” He picked a matcha one to eat first.

Marinette looked pleased about this. She took a nibble of a passion fruit one. “Weird combination I guess, but the creamy bitterness of the matcha offsets the tangy sweetness of the passion fruit. That’s why I asked for these two flavors. Plus, the colors look pretty together. Don’t you think, Chaton?” She winked.

“You have the best taste, Princess.” Chat Noir smiled at her tenderly, disarmed by the wink. Taking a sip of oolong tea, he fell silent, contemplating a question that had he had been wanting to ask her. Of all people, she seemed like someone who would have a good answer. “Marinette, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

He hesitated. Even though it was a perfectly normal concern, he still didn’t feel comfortable talking about this to anyone. He bit his lip.

“What is it, Minou?” Now she looked worried.

He gave her a small smile to allay her worries, but it fell away before he spoke. “How do you help a person heal from losing someone?”

Marinette put down the macaron she was eating. “Chaton… is this why you were so upset the other day? Did you lose someone?”

“I…” Chat Noir balked. He hadn’t really thought of it that way—his mother had already been missing from his life for eight years. “Yes, but… it’s my father. He hasn’t been taking it well, and I want to help him, but I have no idea if I’m doing it right.”

“Oh, Minou…” Marinette sighed and pursed her lips, looking down at her hands. She seemed to be considering very carefully what to answer.

“Sorry to dump that on you,” Chat Noir murmured, wishing he could take it back.

“No, no, don’t be sorry,” she emphasized. “I’m just trying to think. I’ve never lost anyone in my immediate family, so I’m not entirely sure what it’s like… but when Maman’s mother passed away, she used to write a letter to her every night. She’d put the letters in this special box. After a year of doing that, she burned all the letters… I was really young at the time, so I didn’t fully understand, but she always seemed happier after writing a letter. Maybe something like that might help.” She shrugged apologetically. “Sorry I don’t have any better advice.”

“Hmm…” Chat Noir pressed a finger to his lips in thought. “No, that’s a good idea, actually.”

“Are you okay?”

He looked up to see Marinette gazing at him in concern. A smile sprang to his lips automatically. “Of course, Princess, don’t worry about me!”

In spite of his words, she got up and circled around him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind. He felt her cheek press against the back of his head, and the vibration of her voice as she spoke: “Don’t forget, I’m here for you. If you’re ever not okay, just come and I’ll give you hugs and snacks.”

Chat Noir’s heart was doing somersaults, but he played it cool. “Snacks, Princess? You just sealed the deal.”

“Silly cat.”

He squeezed her arms. He’d trade all the snacks in the world to hug this girl for the rest of his life.

It was when that thought popped into his mind that a moment of clarity hit Chat Noir. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t right for him to be thinking of another girl this way, and not his girlfriend. He hadn’t even thought about Kagami all night—he couldn’t live a lie anymore. He couldn’t keep pretending with Kagami that nothing had changed, and that he felt the same way she did. It wasn’t fair to her. It would be kinder to break up with her than to continue doing this.

“What are you thinking about, Minou?” Marinette’s voice near his ear was soft as feathers.

His insides were churning as if he’d ingested poison. “Ah… nothing. Just… grateful that we’re friends.” He stood up, dislodging her arms, leaving his macaron half-eaten and tea barely touched. “Sorry, but I need to go. Thank you so much for everything.”

Marinette looked at him in alarm, sensing his agitation. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Princess.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, of course not. I just… sorry. I can’t stay.” He made his way toward the balcony doors, mind buzzing with the sense of wrongness and determination to make things right.

“Wait!” Marinette ran after him, panic rising. “What happened? If it’s my fault—I’m sorry!”

His heart broke at the thought of leaving her distressed and worrying about his sudden departure. Spinning around, he caught her in his arms and embraced her tightly, breathing in her scent. “You did nothing wrong, Princess,” he murmured into her hair. “There’s just something I need to fix. See you later…” Kissing the top of her head so lightly she probably didn’t feel it, he released her and left through her balcony without looking back.