Black Cats and Green Eyes

                                    

                                          
The day passed by in a flash. She was stuck in a daze, doing her job mechanically as she put herself in program mode. Hell, she was so far gone in her thoughts that she barely noticed her favorite regular – blonde, hot, pretty, was hot already mentioned? – that tried to make conversation with her. Only her thoughts mattered right now, and here's how her thoughts went:
She had a stalker? No way. Why would she, of all people, have a stalker? There was nothing special to her, nothing special to Marinette anyway. Sure, she was Ladybug. But she buried all of that years ago. She gave all of that up when Chat Noir, Adrien , died. And no one else knew about that except for Alya.


Shit, Alya knew. 
Alya, who literally was the Ladyblogger , could have told someone, and said someone probably was devotedly mad enough at Marinette slash Ladybug began to look for her, found her in London, and was now trying to bring her back into famousdom, and then reveal to the whole world that this famous model was actually Paris' incompetent hero who couldn't beat a mass murderer, and now everybody hates her for fraudery? 
Now those thoughts won't do. Not at all.

Marinette clumsily fished her phone out of her pocket, nearly dropping it but catching it right before it fell down the drain. She celebrated for a second, and then called Alya. It rang once, and then twice, and then thrice, and then-
"Hello?" Marinette sighed in relief. "Holy shit, that was a heavy sigh. What's up?"
"Did you tell anyone about my being..." She looked around and having found that she was alone save for the black cat that had apparently been following her since she left the cafe, she continued in a whisper; "About my being Ladybug?" 
Marinette crouched down as the cat circled her leg, rubbing its head on her shin. "No? Why would I tell anyone about that?"  
"Are you sure?" She asked, idly rubbing the cat's ears while she looked at the phone. 
"Girl, believe me. I know how bad everything ended five years ago. I'm not going to ruin your peaceful life there in London for no reason at all." Marinette believed that enough. "Which by the way, you still haven't told me much about. You rarely call and when you do, it's just to ask me about something. Babe, is everything alright with you? You know I'd take the train there anytime if it wasn't for-"
"If it wasn't for your job, I know," Marinette talked over Alya, and the latter chuckled dryly over the phone. 
Alya was able to land a job after the final battle with Shadowmoth. People were impressed by the Ladyblog , and they were even more impressed to find out that she was Rena Rouge s lash Rena Furtive . Alya wasn't the only one, too. Nino, Kagami, Kim, Myléne, Rose, Juleka, Max, Marc, Nathanael, Ivan – they all landed nice jobs after their identities were revealed since there were no threats to Paris anymore. Marinette wondered how all of them fared now. 

"...totally lost you, didn't I?" The cat purred as Marinette stroked the cat's midnight fur, and she smiled. 
"Sorry, Alya. Things are just hectic here, you know how it is, living alone," Marinette said with a sigh. The cat looked up at her, its eyes scarily akin to the green eyes he had. Right, she had that problem. 
"I know, girl, but five years. Don't tell me you didn't take at least a day for yourself?" 
"It's not my fault idling around makes it hurt so badly."
"But it's kind of your fault that it still hurts so badly even now. You're totally avoiding it."
"You're not me, Alya. You don't know what Chat-" She snapped back, unable to say his name, and silence took over the line. There was an audible sigh that came from Alya's end and after letting her bottom lip go from between her teeth, Marinette whispered, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. I can't possibly understand what you're going through, Marinette, but you've been grieving for so much longer than the relationship you two actually had," Alya's voice sounded concerned, and Marinette could guess why, but she just couldn't understand why . 
"I just wish he was still here." The voice that spoke was broken, it was pitiful, and Marinette soon realized that the voice was hers. The black cat looked up to her and pawed her shin as if it was trying to piece the broken pieces that her voice was, the broken pieces that Marinette was.
It felt comforting.

It felt like him .

Marinette's throat constricted and dried, and she couldn't find any other words as Alya tried to preach her best friend back into prime time, but her usual: "I have to go, I'll call you again."
And she will, but it probably won't be soon. Not when clearly, Alya didn't spill the beans to anyone, which meant she had nothing to do about her stalker slash miracle worker of a photographer, and that this is her problem alone. Well, maybe she won't have to deal with it alone. 
Marinette turned her attention back to the cat and caressed its cheek, the creature turning into a mewling putty under her touches and it was so cute, so endearing, maybe she could take it home- oh. 
The cat laid down on its back as she rubbed its back, and something metal glinted, catching the twilight on its plate, blinding Marinette for a split second. She furrowed her brows, frowned when she realized that the silver plate was attached to a collar, and that the collar was attached to the cat. 
"You're lost," she said softly, tracing her fingers over the grooves that were etched onto the metal. 

Athanase.

God, what the hell was it with today and him haunting her today? First the photographer, and now the cat. She looked around to try and find any traces of the cat's owner, maybe someone was playing tricks on her. 
Having found none, Marinette picked the cat up and cradled it in her arms. "Alright, let's take you home for the night. Don't want you not getting seen and getting run over," she told the cat, giggling a little as she smothered its cheeks with kisses. If it was collared, it was clean. She'll be fine.
Probably.