"A mind wants to forget, but a heart will always remember."

❅ ❅ ❅

Remember.

His claws scraped across the tiles of the rooftops like nails upon a chalkboard. The leather suit pulled taut against his skin as he blended in with the starry night of Paris. Heavy gasps of air heaved out of his lungs as he picked up his speed. When the balcony was soon in his sight, he leaped in the air and silently landed on its edge, prowling back and forth like an animal.

Vivid, green eyes scanned the area to find the person he was so anxiously looking for. His heart's pace quickened with worry and it felt as if it could break past his ribs and out of his chest.

He found her, in all of her beauty, wrapped up in a knitted blanket and curled up into a ball on a white, painted chair. Her face was lit up with the dim light above her head and the silver beam shining from the moon. Her hands were pressed against her cherry lips as she parted her mouth to exhale a warm breath upon her dancing fingertips. The freckles on her nose reflected the constellations of the night. Her blue eyes, that were once as clear as a crystal, were foggy, dull, and lacked luster and a yearning for life. They mirrored the Paris sky on a gray morning when the sun refused to shine and the wind was as cold as prickling ice.

A small vase filled with periwinkle and light pink flowers perched on a small table by her seat. Their petals were wilting and wrinkling, most had already fallen off, and their veins visible to the naked eye. The stems drooped and bent, unable to hold themselves upright for much longer.

The superhero blew his blonde bangs out of his eyes as he felt his worry begin to fade. "Purr-incess," He spoke with his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth, accentuating the "r" in the nickname. He slinked down the side of the balcony and straightened up while standing on his two feet. His shoes echoed against the floor as he walked over to her side. He leaned against the wall with a hand on his hip and turned his attention to her. "Were you waiting for me? How sweet of you to do so."

She looked up with those big, blue eyes which he constantly lost himself in. They held the moon and the stars that dotted the night, and he felt like he was floating in space. He needed to constantly remind himself that blinking would be the only way to remain tethered to reality. No words were uttered from her lips, but she lowered her hands from her face and held them out to him. Her blanket slipped down to her back, revealing her dark hair, free from their usual pigtails and falling past her shoulders like a gentle, cascading waterfall.

Heartache filled his entire being. It felt crushing, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders; pushing him down until he could no longer move. He willed himself to move forward and placed his gloved hands on hers. She moved her hands to intertwine her fingers with his own, but she continued to stay quiet. The only sound he could hear was from her steady breathing with each exhale she made. Her gaze was glued to their interlocked hands, and her touch made his gloves go aflame. He refused to let go, however.

He was overly aware of her presence, the very thought of her distracting him from his everyday thoughts, but he didn't know of he was on hers. "Hey, Princess?" The teasing tone in his voice disappeared in the moment and vanished without a trace. He swallowed back his fear and it traveled down to his stomach, where it tossed and churned, making him feel sick as he prepared to ask a question he had asked for the past few nights. "Do... Do you remember who I am?"

Silence was her only response.

He felt as if he were talking to a wall. Impenetrable, unable to get by, hard to get past.

"Princess," He repeated, almost fervently. He tightened his grasp on her hands with the fear that she was going to slip away from him. "Who am I?"

It was quiet, and it was quick. With the blink of an eye, one could have missed the words slipping from her heart-shaped lips. But with all his focus on her, he caught her words in the palm of his hand. He held onto them tightly, placing it in a safe and knowing well that this will be the last time those two words will be uttered again.

The name rolled off her tongue with much difficulty, and almost so silently that the wind would have scooped it up in its embrace, but with her eyes still locked on their hands, the two words were barely uttered.

"Chat Noir."

His smile was sad, painted on to force a facade against his face. He reached out a hand and gently held her cheek, in which she leaned herself into him with her eyes drooping closed. His thumb caressed her face ever so carefully for he feared that she would crumble at his touch, and he could feel his eyes burn from his tears. The ring on his finger beeped and flashed a light of green, indicating that time was almost up, but he refused to leave her side.

"Yes," He said with his words as soft as snow. "Yes, that's me."

He wanted to hold her in his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace and would never let go. He wanted to kiss her face over and over again, constantly reminding her how much he loved her. But it would be fruitless, impossible, even; he could never reach her like he could in the past. He could only touch her the way he did now.

It would be the last time she ever spoke his name again.

---
i'm trying a slightly new writing style, although i'm not sure if it's going to work out consistently through the story.

i like it, though.