Chat, or now rather Adrien, flopped carelessly onto his bed, sighing as he did so. His lanky body was soaked with exhaustion, his human form lax and slightly aching.
Groaning, Adrien reminisced about his little chat with Claire.
"We need to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about, Claire. Leave me alone."
Chat could hear her sigh through the door. "Could you stop being a little bitch and open the door so we can talk face to face?" the female akuma asked, irritation clear as a bell.
"I dunno, can I?" Chat mocked, the ghost of a teasing smile flicking across his lips.
"I will murder you, Chat Noir."
"Ha. Fat chance."
He could practically feel her roll her violet eyes. "Fine," she conceded. "I'll just have to talk through a door."
"You're welcome."
"Shut up."
"But I thought you wanted to talk?" he teased ever so slightly.
"If I didn't have business with you, I swear, Chat Noir, you would be dead meat."
"That's animal cruelty."
"I SWEAR TO FUCKIN-"
She paused, regaining herself. Coughing lightly, she spoke.
"Any progress?"
"Not even remotely, no," was his answer.
And it was the truth. Every time he asked Ladybug for her name, her real name, she either brushed him off or changed the subject quickly. If he wasn't so hard set on finding out her identity, Chat would've admired her headstrong personality and thick, stubborn mind set.
"Have you even tried to get her info?"
"Don't patronize me, Claire. And yes. I have."
"Do you have any resources you could use to get her information?"
"...Not that I can think of, no."
A sigh.
Tension coiled in the air.
The oxygen became thick in their lungs.
He could feel Claire slowly retreat, backing away from the door.
"Get your information, and soon."
Silence.
And then;
"Hawkmoth isn't a patient man."
Sorry it's short my loyal readers. Don't forget to vote my little Alpacalites.