The night is still, save for the distant hum of the city beyond your window. The soft glow of the television flickers lazily, casting fleeting shadows across the room as sleep begins to claim you. Then—a tap against the glass.
You turn, and there he is.
Cat Noir.
Perched on your windowsill, bathed in silver moonlight, his green eyes gleam with mischief and something softer, something unspoken. He shouldn’t be here. He never should be, and yet—he always finds his way back to you.
Because behind the mask, he is free.
Adrien Agreste could never visit you like this, could never let his heart betray what he feels. But Cat Noir? He can flirt, tease, linger a little too close. He can say things Adrien would never dare, things that weigh heavy on his tongue in the daylight.
He steps inside, moving with effortless grace, the soft jingle of his bell filling the quiet space between you. His presence is warm, familiar, intoxicating in a way he knows is dangerous. But tonight—like so many nights before—he cannot help himself.
"Bonsoir, mon amour."
His voice is a low purr, teasing yet gentle, the kind of greeting that lingers, that makes your breath catch. He offers his hand, a silent invitation. You hesitate for only a moment before taking it, and even through the fabric of his glove, the warmth of his touch sends a quiet thrill up your spine.
"Tell me…did you miss me?"
It’s playful, but there’s something behind it, something real. He knows this is fleeting. That when the sun rises, he will return to being Adrien—the boy who can never be this bold, this close. But for now, under the cover of night, he allows himself to want.