"The human eye cannot see beneath the surface, so why do we trust them as if they can?"

— Forbidden Fruits

CHAPTER TEN

»»☆««

Marinette was too tired to freak out over the single bed in the center of the room.

In truth, she was more concerned about Chat Noir—which was an odd thing to internally admit, considering she was still furious at him for kidnapping her, but nonetheless, throughout the ride here, she couldn't help but glance over at him several times. Every time she would discreetly look at him, all she found was a man underneath his invincible facade. Chat Noir had been severely dehydrated, and she was honestly surprised he'd remained upright for hours on end in such a condition.

But what confused her the most was his selflessness. Everyone knew the infamous Chat Noir to be a selfish person because of his thieving actions in which he took anything without remorse according to his reputable reputation. Except now, as she rode beside him and watched how he treated his men, she realized rather quickly just how selfless he truly was.

Even towards her.

He'd given her the last of his water and even the hat atop his head, knowing what consequences would ensue on his own health, and yet, he hadn't hesitated for a second.

Despite her not wanting it to, that caught her attention...

...and softened her heart. Just a bit.

Chat Noir moved across the bedroom in silence. He lit the lantern with his match, which only further illuminated the dark space. Then, he turned once more to face her and moved to approach her.

Marinette stayed routed in her spot. She didn't even move an inch when he reached up to gently remove his hat from her head.

His emerald green eyes bore into hers. For a moment, neither of them were capable of glancing away. They stared into each other's eyes, neither wanting to break eye contact for some reason she couldn't quite understand no matter how hard she tried to comprehend it.

This same thing had happened more than once already. Since the first time Marinette had ever looked into his eyes, there had been some sort of strange connection that she couldn't fathom.

But just like the first time, something would flash in the bandit's irises, and he would be the first to avert his gaze, breaking whatever connection she was still trying to figure out.

"You can take the bed." Chat Noir said with his gaze off to the side. It left his jawline entirely exposed to her wide, curious eyes. "I shall sleep on the floor."

Again, a selfless act—something she still couldn't comprehend. Why was he being so kind to her? He was her kidnapper! He had taken her from her home! Why would he even think to show her an ounce of kindness?

And yet, here he was, moving away from her before she could protest. Her eyes followed him as he reached for one of the pillows on the bed. He tossed it to the floor in which he planned to lay his head, and her eyes darted to the movement. The wooden floorboards didn't look at all comfortable.

A part of her was glad for this outcome, but that also meant she was truly conflicted—torn between wanting him to stay on the floor and as far away from her as possible and wanting to repay him for his kindness towards her by sharing the bed with him.

Without even considering what her actions might cause, Marinette lunged forward and grabbed hold of his wrist.

Chat Noir froze, but he didn't pull away. The silence that pooled around them grew thicker as she considered her actions to possibly be a mistake.

But then she shook those thoughts away, and softly said, "You don't need to sleep on the floor. The bed is big enough for us to share."

Slowly, his head moved as he turned to look over his shoulder. When their eyes connected, there was a conflicted look that cascaded across his features.

"Y-You're certain?"

Her eyes widened slightly in shock. She hadn't expected his stutter. She hadn't expected such vulnerability.

Too stunned for words, Marinette found herself only capable of nodding.

Chat Noir studied her features in silence for a few more seconds before he reciprocated her nod. He then slowly extracted his wrist from her hold and bent down to pick up the pillow he had thrown. Marinette watched him move across the room in careful calculation. As he moved to claim his side, she moved to claim the other. He kicked off his boots, and she kicked off her shoes.

Then, they both fell back into the mattress with a sigh.

Now lying on her back, Marinette simply stared up at the ceiling. The bed jostled slightly as Chat Noir fumbled to get comfortable, and the sound of skin against leather indicated that he'd removed his gloves. A part of her was tempted to turn her head and simply get a glimpse at what his hands looked like—

But what was she thinking?! Why was that suddenly something that intrigued her?

With barely any room between them, they simply lay side-by-side on their backs. The awkwardness that lingered between them regarding their current situation was stronger than ever, and with it having no intention of leaving on its own, Marinette vaguely wondered if she would even get any sleep tonight.

She also wondered if Chat Noir was thinking the same thing.

Neither of them spoke a word. The silence was filled by the steadiness of his breathing. Marinette tried to fall asleep by counting sheep... a technique Cody had taught her when they were merely innocent children, but it didn't work. She kept wondering about what he was thinking. She kept wondering about why he was treating her kindly. She kept wondering just who Kit truly was and what she had done to deserve her hatred.

All of these questions were causing her mind to run rampant, and a busy mind is a thief of peace.

So, finally, she found herself breaking the silence with rushed words. "Who is Kit to you? Surely not just anyone with the way she spoke to you earlier, I'm sure of it."

She supposed she could have worded her question a bit more politely, but Marinette was a rather blunt person, and her kidnapper didn't exactly deserve politeness, no matter how bipolar his actions were.

At first, she thought Chat Noir wouldn't answer. The silence stretched on between them like a thick fog after she had spoken, and nervously, she forced herself to swallow the uncomfortable lump that had formed in her throat.

But then, he surprised her.

"She's my sister."

Her eyes widened slightly at that—and not just by his answer. He'd replied, but that wasn't the biggest revelation. He had a sister.

He had family.

"You have a sister?" Marinette's brows furrowed in slight confusion. Despite all the rumors that were pinned to Chat Noir's reputation, not one of them had ever suggested that he'd been capable of having any sort of family. But who was she to make such assumptions? He was a man just like any other no matter what his occupation may be, and that was something she was beginning to learn.

"Yes." He answered. His voice seemed too emotionless. "Last I recall, it is not unnatural to have siblings."

"I didn't mean to sound like it was," She replied somewhat sheepishly, though she was truly astounded by this reveal. "I'm just... surprised, really."

"And why is that?"

She considered his question with pursed lips. "I suppose it's because I never took you for a man who valued the concept of family."

His response was a thoughtful hum, but he said nothing more on the matter.

Marinette cleared her throat. "Why is it that your sister hates me so?"

She was surprised when his answer was instant as if he needed no time to formulate it. "For the same reason that you despise me—misconception."

That caused Marinette to frown, although she wasn't sure why. He was right—she hated him... but why did that fact annoy her so?

Perhaps it was because, somewhere deep down, she was beginning to see Chat Noir in a new light, and a lot of the things that she had been told about him were being proven false.

Like his inability to show any type of feelings. His lack of remorse. His inability to express concern, humor, or even love.

He wasn't a ruthless monster her brothers and basically all of Deadwood had made him about to be. He was human. Misunderstood, but human.

"What impression have I ever made to have her loathing me over a misconception?" Marinette could understand the misunderstanding when it involved assumptions made and believed about Chat Noir, but herself? Marinette didn't have a reputation that did her so ill will. "Unlike you, my reputation is reputable. I'm a woman of high stature, and that's that."

"And yet, you are not satisfied with that, are you?"

That was a bit of a jab at her chest, and she didn't like it. Marinette turned her head, hoping to catch his gaze in a fiery stare down, but instead, all she got was the side of his face as he stared up at the ceiling above them. "Are you implying that I'm not appreciative of what I have?"

It was then that his head turned to meet her gaze. Their eyes connected like she had hoped they would, except his irises weren't ablaze like her own. Instead, they held softness, genuine emerald jewels that fondly searched through the flame that tended to blind her from the bigger picture.

"No." He replied, oddly soft. "Only that you have everythin' a person could possibly want."

She scoffed at that. "Is that so? Well, you would be wrong on that matter, because I certainly don't have everything. Do you know what I lack? Do you want to know the one thing that I am missing that everyone else around me has?"

She could've sworn his eyes twinkled in amusement.

She didn't wait for him to answer. "I don't have freedom. Sure, I might have riches to flaunt, gorgeous gowns that would cost the average man a fortune to fill his daughter's wardrobe with, and perhaps one of the nicest homes ever built by man, but none of that matters without freedom."

He simply blinked at her, seemingly unperturbed by her small, yet powerful, speech, and it was then when she might've thought that he truly was heartless, until Marinette witnessed a rare sight. The right side of his lips twitched upward into a small, lopsided smile. That was the first time Marinette had ever seen the infamous bandit smile so genuinely. In fact, she once believed that he'd been incapable of that too.

And then he said, "It seems you and I are more alike than you realize."

His words only confused her further, because she was nothing like him. "You cannot possibly compare yourself to me."

"And why is that?"

"Because you are free! Nothing stops you from doing whatever you desire."

"Is that right?" His smile faltered slightly. It was then that he shifted, turning fully onto his side to spare his neck the ache of looking at her. "Since you suddenly know me so well, what exactly are my desires?"

She copied his movement. Now on her side, she faced him just as fully. "You desire money and power. You desire to be rich. You desire fame. You desire to be the wealthiest man alive—"

"That is simply what you've been told." He interrupted her with a click of his tongue. "I already know what the people believe my desires to be, but you are certain that you know them. So, tell me."

His words caused her to pause and consider. What did he desire? If she truly pondered over the thought, she came up empty-handed, because she had no idea. All she knew about the man beside her was what others had said about him, but in truth, she knew nothing about Chat Noir other than the few small things she had learned while being under his care.

And so far, most of what others had said about him was false.

Perhaps that was the fault of man's eye. It is so quick to judge what it cannot see.

And she, just like the many others in Deadwood and in every other town that Chat Noir made appearances in, made judgments about a man they truly knew nothing about. His reputation didn't give them the right to do so either. It was simply wrong.

And now that she realized this, she also realized that there was one thing she knew he truly desired.

"Peace." She answered after a long stretch of silence. "You desire peace."

She watched as his eyes widened slightly, and it was then that she realized she'd caught him off guard. Even she hadn't expected her own sincerity, but here they were, eyes locked and searching each other as her answer was left hanging in the air between them like a worshipped whisper.

He blinked at her several times before he replied, barely over a whisper, "Still think we are nothin' alike?"

She was beginning to realize that a lot of her speculations were wrong.

When she found herself at a loss for words, Chat Noir continued on in a low whisper. "I desire many things, and peace is one of them, but my grandest desire is the same as yours: to be free."

"But aren't you already free?" She found herself genuinely asking. This time, the question was asked out of innocence. She didn't understand how he could not be free. He had access to the entire world simply by horseback and could roam the desert plains until he reached the end of the earth. There was nothing holding him back from doing so, and that, to her, was freedom.

He shook his head. But instead of an explanation, he simply asked her a question. "What is freedom to you?"

She always thought freedom was being able to do whatever she wanted... but perhaps that wasn't always the case. To her, her freedom would begin when she left home; left Deadwood altogether, galloping across the desert on her trusty mare as she travelled the world and saw new sights. Freedom to her was being able to decide things on her own terms, to marry whomever she wanted, to be able to wear whatever she wanted without her scornful father ridiculing every piece of clothing that wasn't traditional for a Dupain-Cheng woman.

"I thought... I thought that by leaving home, I would be free." She answered truthfully, but then her eyes widened when realization dawned on her. She was no longer home; she was traveling the desert plains, except she still wasn't free. Because she was under Chat Noir's hand, and perhaps that would always be. But even if it wasn't his hand, who was to say it wouldn't be another? How many people would she come across trying to dictate her life?

"But I was wrong..." she breathed out. "Freedom is just a concept, not a feat."

His lips twitched ever-so-slightly. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her when he offered her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but even despite that, it implied he was proud. "Indeed. No one will ever be truly free. The concept of freedom is fabricated; impossible to reach. There will always be somethin' or someone that will hold you back or stand in your way."

Marinette found herself entirely zoned in on his eyes, amazed not only by what she saw, but just how wise the bandit seemed to be. His emerald irises were the most genuine eyes she'd ever looked into. His expression was so open, as if he had nothing to hide, except even she knew that despite the openness he shared, there were many secrets behind his black mask still waiting to be uncovered.

And perhaps she would be the one to uncover them.

"And what holds you back?" Her own voice was barely over a whisper.

His eyes flickered across her face, and a part of her could have sworn they flickered down to her lips, but his eyes were back on hers before she could even ponder over such a thought. "Many things," he answered, and his tone seemed a bit sad. "But the biggest would be my reputation. The world may be in the palm of my hand, but only to an extent when you have a reputation like mine."

Curious, she found herself leaning in closer. "How so?"

"Well," Chat Noir allowed his eyes to flutter close, presumably due to his tiredness. He kept them that way as he continued, "When you think of an outlaw, what contribution does he have to society?"

None, her mind instantly screamed, but she didn't want to say that aloud.

However, it seemed he was able to read her thoughts when her answer was silence. "With that bein' said, he is outlawed for a reason. Cast out, even. He could never acquire a job, nor could he show his face in public without bein' scorned. In fact, most who are outlawed were cast out long before they ever resorted to thievin', and so, his only two options at a life are either to steal or to be ridiculed. Most of us choose the former for a chance at freedom and peace, only to once again be trapped inside of a cage, a fate which we all consider to be better than death."

Marinette had never thought about it like that. In fact, she always saw it as a choice made simply to avoid the hardship of working. That always seemed like the only logical reason as to why a man would ever steal from another. However, it wasn't as black and white as she'd always thought it to be. There was a lot behind the scenes in an outlaw's life that many did not see. The only reason Marinette was starting to see it now was because he was showing her.

In truth, she wanted to know more. She wanted to understand more clearly. Marinette wanted to better understand this life so that she wouldn't be so quick to judge it, or perhaps she wished to know more simply because this man beside her intrigued her. As she searched his features, thankful that his eyes remained closed, all she discovered was that she wanted to learn more; about him, about his life, about his past, about his dreams and aspirations, about his plans.

She wasn't just interested in curing her ignorance. She wanted to know more about Chat Noir.

Why? Even she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she had some sort of weird connection with this man. Between the lingering hatred to the comfort offered by him, Marinette knew there was something about Chat Noir that she couldn't just ignore.

With his eyes closed, it allowed her to more intensely study his features. His blonde hair was an unruly mess, sticking out on all ends, but she found that its shaggyness fitted him rather well. His skin was fair and freckled, his cheeks a tint of pink from too much sun. His mask, which he never seemed to take off, remained over his shut eyes, and idly, she wondered if he were to take it off, would there be a mark from where the sun hadn't touched?

That thought had her giggling against her will, and she could even picture the sight. Without even realizing just how friendly she was being towards him, she asked, "Will there be a mark over your eyes when you take your mask off?"

His lips twitched at that, but she knew he was fighting to hold back a smile of his own, even as his eyes remained closed, and his voice remained impassive. "Go to sleep, Marinette."

"Indulge me, please!" She playfully begged, "Now I must know."

Wait... playfully? Was she actually playfully bantering with him now?

What was up with her?

One of his eyes peaked open at that. "I suppose it might. Now," he closed his eyes once again, sighing contently through his nose. "Go to sleep."

But, Marinette wasn't tired anymore. In fact, she felt strangely wide awake and wished to continue conversing with him. "But we were having a conversation."

"Yes, and now it has ended."

"But I still have so many questions."

"No more questions." He shook his head against his pillow, eyes still closed.

"Will you maybe tell me why you took me, at least?"

She watched as his body visibly tensed. The lines in his forehead crinkled, his brows furrowing along with them. Then, his eyes suddenly shot open, emerald irises ablaze as they practically glowed in the darkness.

But when their eyes met this time, she wasn't greeted with the warm side of Chat Noir that she was starting to learn existed.

The look he offered her now was from the side of him he only ever showed to everyone. The monster.

"No," he said sternly. His eyes remained fixed on her, and the tone of his voice suddenly felt like the desert night chills. "And I would appreciate it if you stopped askin' me such."

Marinette furrowed her brows at that. "And I would appreciate honesty."

Chat Noir chuckled softly at that, but there was nothing comforting in his laugh. It sounded bitter. It sounded cynical. "I was bein' honest when I told you outlaws like myself enjoy gamblin' with your life. That is all the honesty you need."

"But there must be more that I'm missing! Something you're leaving out."

"I'm only leavin' out the unnecessary information."

"Unnecessary for who? For me?"

"Precisely."

With a defeated sigh, Marinette turned to lay on her back once again, her eyes rising to the ceiling above her. She was frustrated. She wanted to know the true reason why she was taken, and she wanted to know the entire reason. She had a right to know! But Chat Noir didn't seem to agree. In fact, it seemed he would do everything in his power to make sure that she never found out.

But Marinette was a stubborn woman, and she wasn't one to easily give up.

"I will find out eventually." She murmured into the silence between them. She then rolled onto her other side, her back facing him, and stubbornly added with a huff, "Good night."

An airy chuckle escaped past his lips. They both knew she would—some time off in the near future, but that time wouldn't be now.

"Good night, Marinette."

»»☆««

Marinette awoke when the moon was still high in the sky. With a soft, irritated groan, she rolled around onto her other side and stretched out her limbs.

Only to realize that the spot beside her where Chat Noir was meant to be was empty.

She sat up at that, a bit startled. This wasn't the first time he had disappeared from her side—not that she needed him by her side or anything—but she didn't particularly like being alone at night in a town that housed so many outlaws in one place either.

A gentle breeze pooled into the room, and Marinette's eyes followed the source of it. It was then that she realized the double-panel window had been opened, its curtains swaying forward and back as the nightly desert wind filled the small room. Marinette slowly removed the sheets away from her lithe figure, allowing her legs to timidly come over the edge. With quiet footsteps, she made her way towards the grand window. When she reached the fluttering curtains and gripped onto them, peeking out to see if she could catch a glimpse of the mysterious bandit, it was then that she heard quiet laughs echoing from the rooftop.

"That was a close call. You're lucky you have Chat Noir for a brother."

Marinette instantly recognized that voice. That was the bandit himself.

A feminine chuckle followed, as did Kit's seemingly friendly voice. "Oh yes, definitely. What would I do without ya dear brother?"

Marinette simply raised her brows in silent astonishment. She had never heard Kit sound so... human before. It was shocking.

"You'd be dead. Figuratively and literally."

They chuckled in unison again at that, the wind carrying out their voices like whispered songs over the mountain ranges.

Marinette moved to turn away, but a part of her also hesitated. A part of her wanted to eavesdrop; to hear what they were talking about; to see the side of them they never showed to anyone but to each other.

So, she decided to stay and listen.

"What do ya plan to do when we reach The Iron Fist Mountains?" Kit asked, sounding more serious now that their teasing banter had ended.

Chat Noir sighed heavily, "Ideally, we would go around, but if we wish to stay ahead, we should consider goin' through them."

"But... that's bear country. Are ya sure ya want to go through it?"

"Certain 'bout crossin' paths with one of those slobbery bastards? Surely not. However, takin' the long way allows that blasted Reaper to gain all the distance I've strived to put between us, and I ain't 'bout to give him the advantage."

That wasn't the first time Marinette had heard that name. Why was this mysterious man so important?

"Do you ever think the man will give up?"

Chat Noir chuckled a bit darkly at that. "No. He's insane, driven by his vengeance and immense hatred. A man blinded by such emotions will never truly see."

"And with one less eye, even more so."

The blonde bandit snickered at that. "Indeed. We best get our rest though, yeah? We've got to be up by first light, and I ain't a fan of stayin' in Losthollow longer than need be."

Marinette's eyes quickly widened. He could not find her eavesdropping on them.

"And you ain't sleepin' out here on the roof. Don't even try it." He added.

"Well, I ain't sleepin' on the bloody bed next'ta her." Kit retorted stubbornly.

"Sleep on the floor then if you want to be stubborn, but you ain't sleepin' outside. I'll be lockin' this window."

Marinette took a careful step backward from the partially opened curtain. The last thing she needed was for either of them to catch the sound of creaking wooden floorboards underneath her foot.

However, she didn't make it back to the bed in time. The curtain was harshly ripped open, revealing a blonde woman adorned in her hood. The full moon cast her shadow into the room, displaying what looked to be a monster.

Kit eyed her up and down with one sweep of her eyes. She hopped off the windowsill and sauntered past her. "Looks like someone was puttin' their pretty lil ears to good use."

A moment later, the curtain was pulled back as Chat Noir stepped through. Marinette found herself almost cowering underneath his gaze when his eyes quickly found hers in the darkness.

"I-I wasn't—I didn't mean..." Marinette didn't even have an excuse. What could she possibly say? That Kit was right? She wouldn't dare admit such a thing, no matter how true it was. "You were just gone... and I was a bit worried—"

"'Worried,'" Kit repeated the word like an echo with mockery. The laughter underneath her breath was hardly audible, but its intent was clear.

Chat Noir raised his chin. "I know a deer caught in light when I see one. You ought to remember not to eavesdrop on me again."

She simply lowered her head, offering him a silent nod.

Perhaps it was wrong of her to eavesdrop on them; that much she could admit (to herself, of course, because she wouldn't dare admit such a thing to him), but Marinette wouldn't apologize for her actions, however childish they might have been. She wouldn't have to resort to eavesdropping if Chat Noir simply told her the truth. She deserved to know the truth, especially when her life was being turned upside down because of it.

"...but I appreciate your concern."

Her head quickly raised at that, but Chat Noir had already sauntered past her, heading back towards the warmth of the covers. For a second she thought she'd imagined those last words. He'd spoken them so softly, intending them to only be for her to hear. Marinette couldn't help but stare at him in shock.

He reached his side of the bed once more and hung his hat on the post. To no one in particular, he said, "If my sister won't claim my side of this bed, I surely will."

And then he flopped back into the mattress once more.

"Have at it." Kit dryly replied as she flung out a folded blanket. It sent the dust in the room soaring. "It don't phase me one bit. After all, my bed back at home is made outta bones."

Although it was clearly a lie, it still sent a shiver down Marinette's spine.

"Don't listen to her damn lies." Chat Noir's words were directed at her. Somewhat surprised, Marinette turned her head towards him, only to find his emerald irises already on her. "She's just tryna scare you."

Kit lifted her chin, an obvious smirk playing on her lips as her eyes cast over Marinette. "And it seems to be workin'."

Marinette furrowed her brows. It was then when she turned to face the other woman in the room, head-on, and without a single ounce of hesitance or fear laced in her irises, she said, "I am not afraid of you."

The room fell deadly silent at that. Kit's laid-back expression quickly morphed into fury. Her eyes narrowed, her smirk fell into a vengeful grimace, her gloved fists began to tighten around the fabric of her blanket—

"Good." Chat Noir cleared his throat, and their silent stare-down was quickly broken. The two adversaries looked away, one feeling pleased while the other plotted her revenge. But Marinette was no longer concerned about what Kit had up her sleeve. Chat Noir wouldn't allow his sister to hurt her, and perhaps Marinette could use that to her advantage.

As the silence further ensued, Kit laid out her blanket. Her figure disappeared from Marinette's view as she lay down for the night. Behind her, Chat Noir's full head of blonde also hit his pillow with a content sigh.

Exhaling a relieved puff of air, Marinette made her way back to bed.

_______________________________

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! The next one is probably one of my favorites I've written thus far, and I'm excited to share it with you on 6/24/2022.

Vote?
Comment?
Share?