sunday six

everything I've been writing is where the firelight fades spoilers, so have a bit I should've posted for Six Sentence Sunday a couple weeks ago, from three square meals for three-squared lives (or: the saddest hungriest cat in all Paris):

The loveliness of ladybugs whisked through the bakery, lights coming on and both warming and refrigerated displays humming back to life. Sabine mimed mopping sweat off her forehead, and Mme Lahiffe murmured (or mouthed or shouted, for all Sabine could tell) a thankful prayer. "OH, GOOD," said Tom over the growl of the generator, "I'LL GO TURN OFF THE GENERATOR."

Outside, Chat Noir held out his fist for the heroes' usual victory sign, smiling, and Ladybug bypassed this in favor of flinging herself into his arms. His wide-eyed, quiver-tailed startlement melted after a moment into something softer and gentler, hidden seconds later behind a flattening mouth and worriedly flicking cat ears as she lifted her head. "—and meet me," Sabine could hear her say, as the generator grumbled to a stop.