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There was a multitude of reasons why Chat Noir would protect his partner. There were a multitude of reasons why he would jump out in front of her to deflect hits, and take them if need be. Thankfully, afterwords the damage was always reversed. The hits he typically took, were nothing to write home about. Bruises and cuts, but nothing like this. The two were resting for a moment in an alleyway, in an attempt to skirt the usual onlookers they sometimes earned on their patrols. While many did support and cheer on the two’s efforts for Paris-- there were of course some people that didn’t. Unfortunately, one of those people was laying in wait in that very same stretch of stone and concrete.
There wasn’t time to think. Only instinct. Only reflex. He’d seen the man coming for his companion, and pushed her aside. Going to punch the man in the gut, but unfortunately he hadn’t thought to disarm him first. The pain was sharp-- a deep gash in his shoulder. “...M’lady, we have to go.” The assaulent stumbled back, clutching his stomach. While he held his shoulder. “Now.”
