[ yes. yes, it's not that simple, he just wouldn't be able to... know her that easily through a mistake— his mistake, though he can never quite consider his jumping into the fray to make sure she's unharmed a mistake.

inside, there's unwilling deliberations. remember the history book? ladybug's "secret" mission when you had to protect marinette? she's never there but at the same time always there, in the same way you are— all things he shuts down immediately. he'd sworn he wouldn't wonder too hard about it; ladybug didn't want him to wonder.

and if she wasn't telling him now, she still didn't want him to know, did he? she couldn't stay.

there's that familiar disappointment bubbling in his chest, but it's fair, it's her choice. marinette is here, remember, so he gathers the slivers of chat. focuses on her. on the now. ]

I guess the cat's out of the bag, huh? [ hhhow is he supposed to act? like adrien, out of comfort? chat, because that's the truth? beyond the question of ladybug, there's a liberation here now that someone knows, even through the discomfort that the no strings attached freedom's clicking with a part of his very rigid lifestyle (that's a risk, isn't it? it's always a risk in these cases, for marinette too). still, it's the former that gets the shadow of a: ] Princess.

[ out of his mouth, before he even knows what he's doing. it's not quite as strong as it would've been with the black mask. his smile is much more adrien than chat at the moment, too, when he finally wipes the carefully pensive look on his face and replaces it with something reassuring. ]

... Sorry, that was probably— [ weird as hell? too much too soon? shoving this giant everything on her with no warning? just move on from that. adrien shakes his head. probably a mistake, but he ignores the consequences. ] —I mean, thanks for the offer. Would that be okay? If it's not too much trouble. I can't really go home like this.

[ gabriel agreste would never let him out of the house again. ]