Whatever attracted the criminal to her was beyond Marinette’s comprehension, though she desperately wished she knew so that she could cut it out and he would get lost or, better yet,
get arrested. This had to be at least the fifteenth time he had visited her home, without any clear purpose or plan besides, as far as she could tell, annoying her.
And while the visits were definitely helping her put an end to the crimes of the renowned Chat Noir, thief of the Paris night,
she wasn’t sure if the flirtations and that smug grin of his were worth it.
Marinette had been tempted to admit to him on several occasions that he was dealing with an undercover cop, the Ladybug, hero of Paris, and not just some girl who designed for a living.
But that would be the end of her career, and he definitely wasn’t worth it. Chat Noir was merely an amateur thief who, in contradiction to his name, got lucky enough not to be caught yet.
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