Black Cat, Young Girl

Epilogue

She laced her fingers through his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as they stood before it.

It being Francois DuPont College, which was already buzzing with student life. Chatter rose through the air, yet Adrien couldn't help but tremble.

"What if they don't like me?" he asked, turning to face his love. She giggled quietly, bopping his nose, her smile small yet filled with a curious joy.

"They'll love you for sure, Adrien," the bluenette reassured, her expression warm. The blonde boy smiled, albeit a bit nervously, in response and forced his feet to move up the stairs.

Each step added a question on his scatter-brained mind.

"What if they hate me?"

"What if everyone doesn't approve of my relationship with Mari?"

"What if her best friend - that Alya girl - doesn't approve of me and kicks my ass?"

"You need to seriously chill it, Ch- Adrien," Marinette said, her voice poking through his worried thoughts.

The emerald-eyed boy looked to her for a moment, his anxiousness masking his features, and the bluenette giggled. She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek for comfort, to which earned a squeal a couple meters away.

The couple turned to face an ombré-haired internet addict- also known as Alya Cesaire, Marinette's best friend.

The aspiring reported bustled up to the two, breathless and excited and hyperventilating.

"Alya!" Marinette said brightly, her face lighting up, "I want you to meet the boy I was talking ab-"

"Is this him? Oh, he's really handsome! You snagged yourself a good one, Mari. Oh, look at his hair! Wow, it's really soft! Hey, do you think I could-"

Alya's rambling a were cut short as she monitored the overly-nervous expression that dominated Adrien's face.

She pushed away from Marinette slightly and leaned in close to Adrien's face, nose scrunched in examination.

"You're nervous," Alya noted. She took a step back and examined his whole overall appearance. "You're new to Paris, I presume. You've lived a sheltered life, and your afraid of being judged and
rejected," Alya observed.

"Wha- how- how did you know?" the blonde asked. To this Alya shrugged, nonchalance rolling off her in waves.

"I'm a reporter. I notice things," Alya explained. "Anyways, you guys are adorable! Where did you meet? Did you kiss yet! Oh, please don't tell me you've done the dirty. That's just weird. Do you guys have nicknames for each other?"

Marinette an Adrien struggled to answer the questions in complete honesty and innocence, and everything was going good until the last question.

"Pet names, huh?" Marinette mused, giving a glance at the blonde beside her.

He hummed in mutual agreement. Yes, he had a significant amount of nicknames for the bluenette, but he wanted to make Alya laugh. Impressions were everythig at that moment.

"Well," Adrien started, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Marinette is my old lady."

"Hey!" said girl shouted. "Fine. If I'm "old lady" then you're "stupid cat."

Alya was dying from the fluff. No, literally dying. No, seriously. Can we get a medic for this girl?

"I am not a stupid cat."

"Well I ain't no old lady!"

"PET NAMES!" Alya demanded.

Marinett huffed in indignation, until her lips curled into affectionate smile.

"Well, I guess he's my Chat Noir, my Black Cat."

Adrien returned the same giddy affection as he slipped his arm around Mari's waist.

"And she's my young girl," he breathed.

There sweet and overly-fluffy moment was sealed with a genuine, passionate kiss, Alya practically barfing from cuteness overload.

Well, there you have it friends. A soft story concluded with a kiss. What better way to end a tale, a tale of love and regret?

And thus concludes,

Black Cat, Young Girl

The End.