"Just friends," Marinette mustered to herself.

That was all she and Chat were. Just friends.

It didn't matter how many times he claimed his undying love, it didn't matter that he was the person she trusted most in the whole world, it didn't matter that the thought of him hurt beyond what a Miraculous could undo haunted her every thought while in battle. Chat Noir and Ladybug, the protectors of Paris, had too much of a responsibility on their shoulders for them to aspire for anything beyond that. Being just friends.

Besides, as Chat well understood, even if their responsibility was meant to be taken along with his freedom once calm reigned again, his lady would never be his to keep. Her heart belonged to another. She didn't, of course, she was far too wonderful and self-sufficient to ever belong to anyone and Chat would never fathom to think of her as his property even if his emotions were requited. Far too free, far too high for her wings to be ever tied, but her love was not meant for him. It didn't matter how it killed him, it didn't matter how he ran faster and faster through the rooftops of Paris as if to run away from his howling heart, it didn't matter he was certain he'd never love anyone in the same way. She didn't love him back, and he loved her too much to ever betray their friendship by being hurt by her disdain.

"We're just friends," he stopped, taking a break to retrieve the air that his lungs were too stubbornly exhausted to hold down, but it was unclear to him if the exhaustion came from the running or because the lungs, in an act of extreme solidarity, were planning to go on strike if his heart's demands weren't met. His reasonal side knew it was the earlier, but the emptiness inside his chest claimed it was the latter, and as he sprinted once again towards the dark edge of a building lit only by moonlight and his feet sprung to the air, he reminded his feelings that they wouldn't change a thing.

Because him and Ladybug were just friends.

And Marinette knew that. She had set her foot down herself, after all. She was the one that had decided, the one that had sentenced their friendship as such, because how could she give him her heart when it already belonged to someone else? Even if her sunshine wouldn't claim it, she had surrendered it at his feet in exchange for an umbrella a long time ago, and Chat deserved so much more than to allow him to settle for the empty carcass of a Juliet whose Romeo would never call out her name. Ladybug would never dare.

But tonight, as Marinette heard the muffled sound of leather boots landing in perfect balance on the railing where she rested her arms, she found her shell of a heart filling up with guilty satisfaction, knowing well he didn't know her beneath a mask. Beating him on the knowledge that she had a mask at all. And if she used said mask's presence selflessly, why couldn't she use it's absence to keep Paris' heros from being akumatized out of a broken heart?

"What are you doing out here?" Chat whispered, his voice both stopping and fuelling her racing thoughts all at once.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" She didn't wait for a response that knew wouldn't come. Both their voices sounded too tired, both their spirits were so worn down, both their chests were filled with such guilt, neither of them would dare to joke much right now. "Couldn't sleep."

Chat nodded without turning to face her, he could tell she wasn't staring at him either anyway. This had become more or less a habit after a particularly difficult day, and they felt comfortable enough around each other to leave the pleasantries of standard interactions aside, besides their secret identities, they both knew they didn't have to hide anything from each other anymore. It started the same night an ice cream man's pure emotions were turned into hatred by a rejection, and now these visits were so common, neither of them were surprised by the other's presence anymore. Marinette knew herself lucky that her mask's best friend was also her naked face's confidant.

And Chat Noir found solace on Marinette's presence in a way that Adrien had never gotten a chance to explore. Her kindness, her vibrancy, her drive, they were all things he had always admired from afar, and he had long accepted that their chance for a deep friendship had been discarded with the misunderstanding of their very first encounter, the girl disliked him so much she couldn't even say a full sentence around him. In Adrien's life, he had never known much about what being liked was beyond people that only wanted to get on the good side of his last name, so he couldn't shake the thought that every good action of Marinette's for his civilian self was no more than the selfless nature of her own good heart. A heart he was deceiving by presenting himself as someone better than he knew he was, a hero, a hero taking advantage of a girl's cluelessness that she was talking to someone she'd surely rather not.

It was as if his accusations to himself were passed to Marinette as she quietly reached for the fisted glove that rested on the railing after Chat settled to sit next to her. He untightened his fingers and wrapped them softly around hers, both of them as appreciative of the comfort of the touch as disgusted by their own cowardice. They had both promised to themselves they'd stop doing this, that they couldn't keep playing around with someone that held such a dear place in their individual lives, but each time their hearts ached the promise burned within the lighter Marinette used to turn on a candle, her signal for Chat to accompany her if he felt as lonely as her. He showed up every time.

"Chat?" Marinette whispered, thus finally earning a side glance from him without her having to look at him. She didn't need to say more, no one understood the needs of an aching heart as well as himself. In a swift motion, he tensed his legs to hold on to the railing with more security as he turned his torso, pulling Marinette onto his lap without compromising for a second his balance. With a movement they were both staring at the sleeping city in a proximity that felt too right to be wrong. They both needed comfort, they both needed love, as long as they knew they were in love with someone else, where was the harm in wanting a break from all the pain?

"You should just fall in love with me." Mustered him, and she contemplated hitting him on his chest for saying such a daring thing. She didn't, instead, she just laughed along with him and rested her head on his left pectoral, soothing the sting of self hatred with the rumble of his voice.

"It would make things easier, wouldn't it?" Marinette conceded, "but then you'd have to fall in love with me."

"If I could get my heart back, princess, it would be yours." Despite the clear humor in his voice, Adrien couldn't ignore the ached beatings inside his heart at knowing this was truth. What a masochist he was, falling for wonderful women who would never love him back. He pressed a kiss to her hair and added: "but you deserve much more than a stray cat, you deserve someone worthy of your love."

"It's you who deserves more than me, Chaton," and Marinette hurt more knowing that he would never understand as well as her that she wasn't exaggerating.

"If you say so," Chat Noir shrugged.

And so, in silence they remained holding each other for the remaining time the sun took to rise once again in the sky. Neither of them saying anything, just allowing their hearts to relish on the fantasy that they were holding someone they never could.

Chat was holding Ladybug, and Marinette was on Adrien's arms. In this time of fantasy they gifted each other, at least they could pretend friendship wasn't their only bond.