Worth The Wait - Chat Noir x Fem!Reader

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - Human Again

"I thought you'd never ask"

Word Count: 1038

In the hall outside the ballroom, I slide down against the wall in resignation. I lift my skirts to massage the bruises and claw marks blooming across my thighs. My sore legs quiver, rendered useless by him. Curse Chat. I close my eyes and rest my head against the wall gently, letting out a sigh that unsettles the silence.

But it's too quiet.

A coldness enters the air. My overheated skin feels chilled by the unknown presence infiltrating the space.

An akuma.

A purple butterfly marred by strange white markings flits past me towards the darkness veiling the end of the hall. In cruel irony, it's a beautiful creature in the darkness. It spreads a thin veneer of light to the empty blackness, although I know soon the air will be filled with screams.

I force myself up against my aching legs and the soreness spreads through my tired body. With each step, my feet scream in agony. I move towards the akuma to beat it to its victim, yet it's futile. I can only hobble.

It's a race against time and my strength.

At the end of the hall, a distressed girl is curled in a feeble ball. Her messy blonde hair spilling over her shoulders and streaks of sweared mascara running down her face gives her a disheveled look. At the sound of my footsteps, her familiar blue eyes look up to meet mine.

Chloe.

I don't have Ladybug's regeneration or Chat Noir's destruction. I can only hope the illusion of my comfort will stop her from succumbing to Hawkmoth.

"Get away from me," she spits out, her words like a poison.

"I'm just trying to help." I can do nothing but stand and watch. And hope she listens.

She tilts her head. "Why? Why would you care?"

"Because innocent lives are at stake. I can't let that happen." I take a tentative step closer.

"Innocent? Everyone here is guilty." Her words are harsh and bitter. "Always ready to shift blame. That's far from the angels they pretend to be."

"What are you saying?" My eyes narrow.

"Everyone is always expecting the worst of me. Like they're waiting for me to slip up... and make one wrong move so they can condemn me."

"Keep talking..." I still with my hand outstretched, wanting her to explain herself.

"I'm fucking tired of trying. Fuck taking the higher road. This is the only way they'll understand."

"You don't have to do this."

"I try to explain myself, but everyone treats me like a ticking time bomb. Even Ladybug." She raises her voice. "No one fucking listens!"

I take another step closer, nodding once. "I'm listening."

She looks at me as if she's finally seeing me, her face streaked with tears. Her voice is a whisper. "You are?"

That's what she wants. Understanding. Acceptance.

It's a simple enough desire.

She sighs at my understanding expression, her words softer now. She stands up, wiping her tears with the back of her hand as she sniffles quietly. "Why is it that I have to be the bad one so everyone else can feel better about themselves?"

"You're more than this."

Her tone is threatening, as if to warn me to choose my next words carefully. "What would you know about me?"

"I know you're tired of being what everyone else makes you. I know you often play into this 'mean girl' caricature just to receive the little acceptance it gives you. But it doesn't have to always be like that. Make them see you."

The akuma settles on the ground between us, a subtle reminder of the danger negative emotions pose. Chloe looks conflicted, which is reflected in the little butterfly.

"How do I do that?"

I shrug. "Make a genuine attempt. Don't feel pressured to fall into stereotypes and act the way you want to, not the way others want you to. Be the real you."

Something changes in her eyes. Hope.

And just like that, the akuma is gone.

She sniffles. "You should be a therapist or some shit."

I laugh lightly, adjusting her crooked mask. "Fuck no. I have my own problems. I'm not near qualified for that." My heightened senses pick up the faint sound of footsteps. I turn to Chloe, my expression cautious. "You should go. I don't want you to get blamed for something you can't control. Not again."

Her eyes well with tears again. She's unused to simple kindness. "Thank you. For staying and just listening to me. I don't... always have that." She whispers hoarsely, her fingers twitching as if she wants to wrap her arms around me and melt in my comforting embrace. But she decides against it, her gentle smile fading into the darkness as she leaves.

Ladybug sprints towards me, holding her voluminous skirt up over her ankles so as not to trip on its hem dragging along the floor.

"Rena!" She looks around, her head swiveling wildly as she looks for the akuma no longer seeking its victim. "Did you see the akuma? It must've flown through here!"

"I handled it."

"But—" Her eyes narrow as she looks over with barely veiled suspicion. "You don't have—"

"The akuma is no longer active."

Her lips are set in a thin line as she folds her arms, leaning away from me. "How did you—?"

"Not important."

Chat pipes up, raising a finger questioningly. "Was it—?"

"Shh," I pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. We share a knowing look. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Muffled laughter and voices leak into the tense air. The music swells with the strike of a high chord, accompanied by a chorus of synchronized footfalls. I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head toward the door leading into the ballroom.

"Shall we?" Chat looks between the both of us. Ladybug heaves a loud sigh, her posture more relaxed as she succumbs to our antics. She eyes the two of us briefly before sweeping ahead into the ballroom.

I gather my skirts in my hands, curtsying into a dramatically low arc. "I thought you'd never ask."

I take his outstretched hand and let him lead me in the warmth of the ballroom, melding into the bustling crowd.