Uptown, Downtown (Chat Noir x Reader) - Book 1

4 | Hide Away

You couldn’t help but turn to her, and ask, “Is it always like this in France?”

Juleka couldn’t help but giggle slightly at your comment, which gave you a slight bit of positivity.

The school was promptly evacuated afterwards, and your second day at school was cut short again. Not that you were complaining, dare you say you were enjoying the ridiculous amount of times random supervillains were busting into your school.

(It meant no work.)

“I’m getting concerned about the amount of times your school has been attacked,” your dad murmured, as you lay on the living room sofa, back at your house.

“Yes, me too,” you played along, scrolling on your phone mindlessly, “if we hadn’t moved here, this wouldn’t be happening now, would it?”

“Hey, quit that,” your mother scolded, dropping a book on your stomach, causing you to cough. “And read this book, it’s about anarchy, since you’re into overthrowing the government and all that.”

“That’s child abuse!” you complained, overdramatising the ordeal, before grumpily picking up the novel, and setting down your device with a sigh, deciding to give it a read.

“I do get worried about you and your obsession with politics, (Y/n),” your dad muttered, handing your mum a cup of tea. “I know you want to make the world a better place, but through an armed revolution?”

“Attention must be devoted principally to raising the workers to the level of revolutionaries; it is not at all our task to descend to the level of the ‘working masses’,” you quoted Lenin smugly, side eyeing your parents.

“What kind of child have we raised?” your father mumbled miserably, clearly concerned for your safety.

“One who I feel like has the potential to do things we could never,” your mum replied, with a proud grin.

“And why do you think that?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Because you’re a decent person, (Y/n),” she laughed, sitting down next to your father. “You’re willing to do what’s right and help other people, you’re just a nice kid, ok? Even if you don’t wear spandex and have magical powers… but hey, not every hero has a skintight leotard, huh?”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself softly at the compliment. It was true, you did have a strong moral compass… but if you were to live up to your mother’s expectations, there was one more thing you had to do.

The next morning, you rushed up the steps to catch with two other girls. “Excuse me!” you called out, cringing at your awful French.

They both turned around, and were surprised to see you, as you came rushing up to them; you were about to explain, attempting to think out the best way to put it, but the red haired girl beat you to it. “Hey, you’re the new student! The teacher said you were from Britain, right? Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, I’m Alya!”

“Oh, uh, hello,” you spluttered, “sorry, my French is so shit—err, I mean, bad.”

“It’s no problem,” the blue haired girl held out her hand to you, smiling welcomingly. “I’m Marinette. Who might you be?”