#gigiree

A/n: OMGG the more I see of your au, the more I love it. I know you have the sort of reverse love square set up, so I tried to follow that a bit, but ahhh I’m not sure if I got the right flavor of it at all. Regardless, this is supposed to be a continuation of the previous piece.

He finds himself pacing back and forth across the rooftop, his tail lashing at his legs as his indecision eats away at his composure.

He argues with himself as he shoots occasional glances at the delicately lit-up terrace across from his perch.

“I’m not stalking her. I’m just going there for some peace of mind. It smells nice because of the bakery. It’s a private place to take a nap. There’s a comfy lawn chair. She’s probably asleep by now anyway. It’ll only be for a few moments.”

He lists out all these reasons, and while it seems he’s grasping for straws, his legs seem to have decided for him because not thirty seconds later, he’s made the leap across the street. He lands on top of the Dupain-Cheng bakery with hardly a sound, his claws flexing as he braces his hands against the railing.

He’s done it. He’s come to her house like some obsessed creepy vampire or something. But the orange lawn chair looks so inviting and the roses seem to unfurl their petals in welcome.

His house was too quiet for some good rest. The muted sounds of the city below will serve as the best sort of lullaby for tonight.

He has many reasons for wanting to be here, but the fact that this chair smells like her and that he curls up closer to it when he realizes this tells him that none of those reasons come close to the real one.

She is a reprieve and the sweetness of a dream, and the thought of her helps him sleep at night.

Let sleeping kittens lie, Plagg thinks from within. —- She’s stayed awake until the moon had reached its zenith, bright and round and calling to the anxiety welling up in her chest.

She’s been working on hat designs and her floor is littered with discarded ideas. She wants to cry, but Pollen suggests going outside to smell the blooming roses and the fresh dew that crests them.

So she does, and she tucks her kwami in the neck of her soft pajamas to keep her warm.

She opens the trapdoor with a weary sigh, only for it to turn into a little yelp when she catches sight of Chat Noir curled up ever so sweetly on her lawn chair.

Pollen seems to be amused about the whole affair and merely suggest that he looks a bit cold. It’s enough to get Marinette quietly rushing back down into her room, wherein she gathers up a pink striped blanket. She hoists it up with her onto the terrace, and her steps are skillfully silent as she approaches him.

He’s so pretty, she thinks, crested under moonlight. So pretty and never to be hers. She remembers the ache of his rejection. But he’s still a good friend and he deserves nothing but the best when it comes to friendship.

He doesn’t stir, even as she drapes the blanket over him.

Pollen thinks it’s all a bit heartbreaking when Marinette bites her lip, and indulges herself by brushing back a few strands of hair falling over his eyes.

“Good night Chat. Sleep well.” ——

He wakes when the moon has sunk low on the horizon, hidden behind a few distant buildings. The stars wheel across the sky, marking his time as passed.

He blinks away the dew drops that had condensed on his eyelids. He yawns a bit, stretching out his the stiffness in his shoulders only to notice the blanket sliding off of him while he does it.

His horror at having found that he has overslept mingles bitterly with the fondness he feels for Marinette. This blanket keeps her scent woven well into its folds, and he’s so incandescently happy to have been cared for (again) by her.

Then he feels the sting of mortification.

“God. I’m such a creep.” He tells himself, all the while folding the blanket properly. He’s not sure how he’s going to repay her for this one. As it is, he owes her so much for the coffee and the pastries she brings him on the daily.

But she will never ask for repayment. Her kindness is as natural as the unfurling of those roses she keeps on this terrace.

He pats down the blanket, leaving it neatly on the chair. He indulges the feelings welling up in him, when he decides to cut off one of the red roses and lay it down on top of the blanket.

“…one day…i promise I’ll get you a whole bouquet.” He whispers to no one.

It’s a bit sad. ——

“You look surprisingly refreshed today, Adrien.” Marinette tells him. Her smile seems relieved, but still she places the coffee and pastries on his desk and invites him to share.

He can only find it in himself to nod at her, before hiding his awkward cough into the lip of his coffee cup.

“Did you find a good way to get some rest?”

“Y-yeah. Sort of.” He chokes, taking a sudden bite off the chocolate croissant.

She giggles at his zealousness, and he returns his smile.

She’s as oblivious as ever when she takes a napkin and wipes away the chocolate smeared at the corner of his mouth.

“There. Can’t have that pretty, refreshed face of yours looking messy.”

He doesn’t bother to hide his coughs this time. Nino takes pity on him, and pulls Marinette into conversation to give him a break. —-

The next time she finds him asleep on her terrace, she decides to treat him a little more.

She places a plate of pastries on the table near his sleeping form, covers them up so they don’t get damp In the nightly weather. She also leaves a glass of milk, and covers that up too with a lid.

She tucks him under the same blanket, and still he doesn’t stir. She can’t blame him. Today’s Akuma had been challenging…more so because Scarlet Lady had thought it would ruin her reputation if got her hair wet trying to chase said Akuma…and doubly because Chat Noir seemed to be having a hard time touching her…touching Marigold.

It was as if her confession had pried open the space between them. As if her back was no longer completely covered, because Chat Noir was so distracted by what she’d told him.

Their usual banter had taken on a fragile sort of quality. Too careful and distant. As if he was scared going over a single line might give her the wrong idea.

She’s a little miffed. She’s not stupid. She understands rejection and how to deal with it. She’d been determined to put her feelings away, into a locked little corner of her mind that will always be fond of Chat.

She thought she’d been doing so well and yet…

She doesn’t mean to sit and watch him. He’s so unguarded like this. The planes of his face soften in his sleep, his mouth turns gentle. He’s no longer scowling and the bags under his eyes disappear for a bit.

He looks so young. Too young to bear this burden all on his own. Yet all she can do now is watch…and wait for him to return to their previous dynamic all on his own.

“Please don’t give up on us, Kitty. We’re a team. I need you…” She tells him quietly, pulling up the blanket to his chin once more.

She heads back down into her room with Pollen nuzzling her in sympathy. —-

She wakes to find the blanket folded again, and a rose left on top again.

The cookies have all been eaten and the glass of milk is half full. She’s glad.

There’s a note too.

“Thanks for the snacks! Next time, let’s eat breakfast together!” -C.N

She thinks her heart might beat out of her chest at the sight of it. But there’s a wry twist to her mouth, because it may just be a pleasantry after all.

She’s tired and she’s already tried. There isn’t much use in asking for more. She’s glad she can keep him in her life in some capacity.

Still she presses this rose in between the pages of her sketch book.

Ah yeh 😊 im still gonna do cell shading, spec for animation, but i like what im doing now cause it feels more me? I dunno how to express it, it's something that i felt i could do to push myself and improve.

There is magic in the world she knows, from the top of her head to the tip of toes.

Marinette has magic in her earrings too, in her body, in her soul when the world isn’t quite right and everything is going wrong.

This is certainly a blast from the past.

I LOVE VIA AND GRILL Y

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOU KNEW OF THE SHOW FIRST.

but sure, how did you find my first blog? lmao 

I have absolutely no idea what fic you’re talking about.

At all.