For enbyred.
This Fic was beta-read by the lovely Nottesilhouette, she's amazing and I love her! This was also written as part of a private gift exchange, I had way too much fun with Lukanette.
"I'm sorry," Marinette says, her words, half-drowned against the fabric of Luka's pillow.
"So you've said," Luka sighs. Marinette doesn't need to look up to feel the bed shift as he settles next to her. "Thirty-six times since you got here and another fifteen before that."
"Have you really been counting?" Marinette groans in response, sinking further into the pale, blue comforter. It's not nearly deep enough to drown her guilt.
Marinette knows she shouldn't be here right now; staying only drags Luka further into the hot mess that's rapidly become her life over the last few hours. What's worse, she can't even get the satisfaction of pinning the blame on anyone else. Nope, this mess is entirely self-created.
But—Marinette doesn't want to go home—some irrational part of her brain's already sat down and decided that the moment she does, the moment she steps foot into her own house and curls up into a ball on her own bed, means admitting her mistakes.
She's made a lot of mistakes since she woke up this morning.
Coming here being the most recent.
It just...hadn't felt right to go anywhere else. To try and fix anything else. Not without first apologizing to Luka. He deserves that much.
Luka rests a hand on her hunched shoulder, making her tighten already tense muscles. It's an aborted motion: if he'd meant to squeeze her shoulder, to offer the reassurance the gesture lent itself to, he stops himself midway. Instead, he takes his hand away and taps a cool number against the exposed hand by her head. "You going to answer your phone?"
"Is it bad?" If Marinette's being kind, and after today, she's inclined to, she won't focus on the soft laugh that escapes through Luka's throat.
"You have three hundred and eighty-nine new messages. Something tells me at least one of them is important."
"I really don't want to."
"That's okay," Luka says. There is so much kindness in his voice, it makes Marinette wince. "You don't have to."
"You're not going to ask what's wrong?" Luka… he's always understanding, and maybe sometimes it's annoying, but he never pushes. Luka never rushes into anything, and he sure as hell never rushes her.
Maybe that's why she came here. Luka is a quiet moment, a gentle yielding peace.
"No," Luka breathes out in a long exhale that leaves him slumped forward. Distantly, Marinttee hears the faint click of his rings. He always fidgets with them when he's nervous—anxious. Luka gets anxious, which is somehow worse than nervous and not nearly as obvious. "I'm not going to make you tell me what's going on, not until you're ready to."
Marinette shifts, catching Luka's eye as she peeks out from behind her arms. His breath hitches, slightly, softly, the same way his laugh left him a few seconds earlier. Marinette knows her eyes are red-rimmed, she knows her mascara is smeared and runny, and has most definitely stained Luka's poor pillowcase—she'll get him a new one—but she meets his eyes anyway.
It's amazing, how he can make her feel comfortable enough to be vulnerable. More than that, he lets her be vulnerable, he always lets her be vulnerable, whether it's giving her a moment to herself during a disaster ice skating date that left her heart in more pieces than she came with or taking a moment to pull her aside mid rehearsal when the noise and chaos get too much.
Luka has a big heart, and he gives his love so freely—it's hard, not to want to take advantage of that. Even when Marinette knows she doesn't deserve it.
"But you think I'm ready to answer my phone?" Her voice is quiet, meek, and foreign to her own ears. She doesn't like it, she doesn't like being like this, and had it been anyone else, even Chat, Marinette wouldn't face them.
Luka frowns, his finger pressing down against her cheek, swiping away the ashy, black trail that's dripped from under her eyes. "It's just that," he starts, before looking away. He stares at the ceiling, counting his breaths in the same measured way he showed her how to the last time she'd asked about meditating. He doesn't look back at her. "You said you didn't want to, not that you can't. Obviously, you don't have to do it right now, there's no rush. Take your time."
The cabin rocks, and Marinette freezes. "Juleka didn't tell you what's going on?"
"She might have, I haven't checked." Luka shrugs. "I'm ghosting her until she yields and lets me borrow her eye shadow palette."
"What if something important happened?" She blurts out, for a second forgetting how awful she feels.
He smirks, a playful edge creeping into his voice, "Then she'll text mom."
"I can't believe you," Marinette says, huddling close enough to Luka for her face to nearly be pressed against his back.
To his credit, he doesn't freeze, just pouts. "You can't believe me? I can't believe her. I asked her—nicely—to let me borrow hers because I reached pan on the purple from my palette weeks ago, and she has hundreds of purples, but does she let me? No."
"Why do you need purple?"
"To fade the blue I want to use as a crease, black's too strong."
"I didn't know you do makeup," Marinette murmurs.
There's a lot that Marinette doesn't know about Luka yet.
"Really? I guess it hasn't come up. I'll do yours for you, sometime, if you want."
"I'd like that." Marinette smiles, twisting her fingers into Luka's jacket. There's a moment of silence as the boat sways, gently, soothingly along with the current. It's not an awkward silence. The Seine gives them enough white noise to relax. "Luka," she says. "Will you play me a song?"
"If that's what you want," Luka says, even though he makes no effort to move. His guitar sits where it's been this entire time, halfway across the room.
"You don't think I do?"
"No, not really."
"Yeah." She takes a minute to think about it. Does she want Luka to play her a song? She doesn't want him to leave, even if it's only to walk three feet. "You're right. Is it okay if we just...sit like this for a bit?"
"Like I said." Luka reaches down, once again resting a hand on her shoulder. This time he does give it a little squeeze. Marinette does a better job of not tensing. He doesn't seem bothered by her curling into a tighter ball around him. "You can take your time."
"Thank you, Luka. I really am sorry." Marinette's voice is muffled against the small of his back.
"Thirty-seven." His thumb rubs small circles into the hollow of Marinette's collar bone. Luka is a highly tactile person, it's impossible to be friends with him and not get used to his touch. He's always reaching out, grabbing, holding, finding some way to maintain physical contact. It's… nice. "And you still haven't told me what you're sorry for."
In response, Marinette whines. She's going to tell Luka, she will, just not right now. Soon, before she leaves, definitely, but right now? Right now she just wants another minute to calm herself down, this time without the crying that came within the first five minutes of making it into Luka's room.
As always, Luka gets it. He doesn't pry, his thumb doesn't stop tracing invisible patterns into her skin. He simply starts to hum, a low, quiet sound that doesn't match any song Marinette's ever heard.
By the time Marinette finally feels like herself again, Luka's changed the tune eight times, and the sun's starting to fall. It's still early, the sun won't set for another three hours, at least, but it's not nearly as high as it had been when she got here. All the same, Marinette's tired. She wants to sleep. She's half tempted to.
Her phone buzzes, breaking the spell before she gets to. Luka looks almost disappointed when he sluggishly hands it to her. Marinette thinks he didn't want the moment to end either.
She grips her phone, tight, as she uncurls.
She just—"I really, really don't want to answer that."
For a moment, Luka seems to debate, before he turns slightly, taking her free hand into his own. A gentle squeeze. His eyes are narrowed at her, like he's confused, not like he's angry. He has a right to be angry at her. Marinette doubts he won't be, once he finds out. "Want me to?"
"You'd do that?" Marinette asks.
Luka nods. "I'd do that."
It's selfish, she knows it's selfish, already she can feel Tikki's eyes burning a hole through her purse and straight into her heart. But Marinette needs to answer her phone, and she wants to tell Luka what's going on. She knows she won't have the energy to do both.
"I want you to. Here," she says handing the phone back over to him. "My password's nine six six three. Just… don't go through my pictures."
A short hum answers her, Luka's affirmative. She knows he won't look through her phone without asking first, but still. He doesn't need to see what her gallery is like. She's gotten better lately, she's taken down the pictures and schedule from her walls, but it takes a while for love to die—even when you really want it to.
Adrien's no longer her lock screen or her wallpaper, Marinette's outrageously glad she changed it shortly after agreeing to help him ask Kagami out.
"Where should we start?" Luka asks, fingers tapping across the screen. "It seems like most of them are from your group chat, Alya sent a few, Adrien, Kagami, Unknown number, Juleka, your mom."
Marinette bites her lip. "Go with the most recent, whoever just sent that text."
Luka pauses, seeming to debate something, before sighing. He deflates, just a little. "Alright, Adrien it is."
"Congratulations, Marinette! I'm happy for you!"
It's stupid, she knows it is. And more than a little part of her hates her for it, but…
Marinette's eyes burn. Hot and heavy and itchy. It's pathetic. She knows that Adrien doesn't mean anything by it. He's trying to be nice, he is being nice. She doesn't doubt for a second that he's not legitimately happy for her. He's excited, the same way she was excited for Alya and Nino, and Juleka and Rose, and Marc and Nathaniel.
It's just—
Her heart, the part that hasn't caught the hint yet, it hurts.
It hurts because she's loved him so much and for so long. Marinette wants to matter to him.
"Oh." Marinette, she doesn't remember her voice being this hoarse a moment ago. "Can you just—" She sniffles, and distantly she feels something wet make its way down her cheek.
"Yeah," Luka says, shaking his head and powering down her phone. She sees the light die, and the unreasonable part of her heart is fiercely happy for it. "This isn't going to work." Luka stands, cracking his back as he holds out his hand. "Come on."
Wiping her eyes on the corner of her sleeve, Marinette takes it, wordlessly letting him drag her to her feet and down the hall. By the time they make it to the kitchen, her sniffles have turned into hiccups. Her eyes are dry though. She's been wondering for a while when she'd run out of tears. The answer, apparently, is twenty feet from Luka's bed.
Luka sits her down at the table, and she lets him drape a fuzzy, tiger-striped blanket across her shoulders. He might not look it, but Luka, he's a fussy mother hen.
"I—" Marinette starts, only to be cut off by a quiet shushing sound from Luka.
"Not now," Luka says, getting a pitcher of water from the fridge and pouring it over two tea-bags she didn't even notice him take from the cupboard. "Here." He hands them to her. "Hold them to your eyes—yeah, just like that—they'll get rid of the swelling. We'll get to it, I promise, but… let's just… take another minute, okay?"
He waits until she nods her head in acceptance before he turns back to the fridge, his eyes considering. He pulls out milk, and Marinette watches with vague interest as he takes it over to the stove and pours a couple of cups out to boil. She wants to say something, apologize again, but… she's already been this selfish.
She also just… doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to waste on Adrien and unpacking exactly why she can't just let him go.
That mess can wait until she's alone, and can properly sob her heart out. It's been a while since she did that. She's past due for a good cry. Though, Marinette will have to distract Tikki: while her Kwami may be kind, she… wouldn't understand. Human emotions—they're lost on her.
Maybe she can leave her with Master Fu for the day.
A cup is placed in front of her, and Marinette jolts, dropping the tea-bags. Luka's across from her. She missed the scraping of his chair as he sat down. Between them is a can of whipped cream, a bag of marshmallows, and two steaming mugs.
"Careful," Luka says as she reaches out and grabs her own. "I didn't know which you liked better, so I just brought over both."
"Thank you, Luka. You didn't have to."
Faintly, Luka's cheeks tint pink, and he looks away—sheepish. "It's no big deal."
"Yeah," Marinette says, dropping a handful of marshmallows straight on top of the hot chocolate. It forms a fluffy cloud, completely hiding the warm, brown liquid. "It is."
Luka, like the heathen he is, takes the whipped cream, spraying it directly into his mouth, not even bothering to add any to his own drink. Marinette hides her smile around the rim of her cup as Luka looks at her, unrepentant.
"You're judging," he says, a playful edge to his voice. Marinette takes a sip to avoid answering. She is, just a little.
"Oh." Marinette breathes out the word and Luka grins, wide and unrestrained at the surprised look on her face. "This is really good."
"Of course it is, it's a Couffaine family recipe." Luka glances around, before leaning in to lower his voice conspiratorially. "The secret ingredient's peppermint."
"No," Marinette laughs. "I never would have guessed."
"Hmm," Luka hums. "You know what they say, 'nothing like peppermint to pep you up'... probably."
"Probably?"
"I know I've heard my mom say it at least once."
"Is this Couffaine family recipe really just a LukaCouffaine recipe?" Marinette asks, taking another sip of her chocolate. It leaves pleasant tingles across her tongue as warmth seeps into her hands.
"Maybe," Luka admits, taking a gulp of his drink and eating a marshmallow whole. "But it doesn't sound as cool. Either way, you need a bit of cheering up, and it works better than ice cream."
"Yeah?"
"It's a scientific fact."
Marinette's inclined to believe him. It's probably more to do with the thought that goes into making it, than any magical, peppermint-y property, but Marinette really is starting to feel a little better. Her heart hurts. It's going to hurt, but it's not nearly as bad.
Luka waits to bring her phone back out until she's emptied her cup halfway. He's watching her face, carefully. Marinette gives him a shaky smile, chocolate makes everything just a bit easier. "You know the password."
"Do you know what you want to say?"
"No," Marinette answers honestly. She doesn't know what she wants to say. She doesn't know if she wants to correct Adrien, tell him the truth and explain that this is all a big misunderstanding, and that her brain cells immediately nope out of existence the second her love life is mentioned.
It feels cheap though, to explain things to Adrien when she hasn't explained anything to Luka yet.
"How about, thank you so much, I really appreciate it?" Luka asks, pitching his voice into a poor imitation of her own. "That's generic enough to let the conversation die without seeming rude."
"Sounds good." Marinette looks away, focusing on the half dissolved cloud in her cup.
"Should I put any exclamation points? I can't tell if his punctuation is passive aggressive or if he's actually a golden retriever."
"You know, I couldn't either at first, but after all the smileys, I think he's actually a puppy. Scroll up a bit, you'll see." Marinette hears a small ping as Luka hits send and does her best not to think of the implications of Luka looking through her messages to Adrien. Not that they're exciting messages. They're not that close. The last time they held a steady conversation was when she'd been planning his and Kagami's date.
Ouch.
"Oh, God," Luka laughs. "He sent you three of them together, how does he not know that these are passive aggressive. They look like they're damning my soul."
"He's kind of dumb," Marinette says, surprised giggles escaping her. Luka's grin widens.
"I'm going to tell him," He says, taking out his own phone and laying it down on the table.
Marinette swipes it. "Don't you dare."
"Fine," Luka agrees, sounding put out. "If it means so much to you, I won't tell the sweet, summer child what the smileys mean."
Marinette still keeps Luka's phone—for good measure."I have a very good reason for not telling him."
"Oh, and what's that?"
"It's so that, every time he's lovably clueless, which is often, I can get rid of my aggravation by passive aggressively smiley-ing him, and he, not understanding, won't catch on to how little patience I have. It's a win-win."
Luka bites the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to contain himself. "Can I smiley him?"
"You can send three."
"I… sort of feel bad for the guy," Luka admits, showing off the screen where three smiley face emojis stare into her soul. Marinette shivers. They're terrifying.
"Don't," Marinette replies, grinning impishly. "He has Google."
"Yeah," Luka agrees. "But does he know how to use it? Want me to replace the heart by his name with one?"
"That's awful." All the same, Marinette starts laughing. "Do it. Put one on both sides of his name."
"Done." And just like that, Adrien loses another piece of her heart without even knowing about it. "So," Luka says, sombering slightly. "Who next?"
Marinette thinks about it for a moment. She has a pretty good idea who the unknown number is from, the group chat's going to be a mess— "Kagami, let's get her over with."
"Marinette. Adrien told me what happened, I'm glad you stopped hesitating."
That's… incredibly on-brand for Kagami. Marinette doesn't think she's being cruel, but she doesn't know her nearly enough to be able to decipher what she's trying to be. Kagami's straightforward though, so she decides to take her text at face value. She's happy for her.
And maybe, a bitter part of Marinette's brain whispers, she's happy for herself, too.
"What's she." Luka pauses, his lips pursed in concentration. "What does she mean 'I'm glad you stopped hesitating'?"
Marinette finishes the last of her hot chocolate, now cooled, in one large gulp. "You remember when I fell down, back at the ice skating rink?"
"Yeah." Luka inclines his head, she snags a marshmallow.
"Well, when she came over to help me up, she sort of…" Marinette doesn't know how to phrase it, she doesn't want to make Kagami sound worse than she had been. "She told me that she never hesitated. And I get it, from her point of view, I must have seemed pretty wishy-washy. It was her way of telling me that I had to make a choice. I don't think she was trying to be nasty."
She really doesn't, Kagami isn't like Lila or Chloe. She doesn't go out of her way to be mean, she's just… rough around the edges.
Understanding looks different on Luka than it does on a lot of other people, on most people. It's less a facial expression and more of a full body response. Marinette's not sure how anyone can say that Luka's hard to read. He's a physical person, and his reactions are, too.
His face doesn't change, it doesn't fall. His expression is even, but his shoulders slump a bit. He's not holding his head as high.
Marinette doesn't like how understanding looks almost exactly like defeat.
Unlike him, Marinette's facially expressive. Her face is easy to read, or maybe Luka's just good at reading her. Either way, he clears his throat, twisting the black band on his left, index finger. "Have you?"
She's not going to disrespect him by lying. "Maybe? Not in the way you're thinking, or the way she's thinking. I just—it's hard. My heart and brain aren't on the same page yet."
"Okay," Luka says simply.
"Okay?"
That can't just be it. Can it?
"Okay." Luka shrugs. He's still twisting the ring around his finger, even as he relaxes back into his chair. "How do you want me to respond?"
"Just…" Marinette hesitates. She knows Luka doesn't push things, that's why she came here. Luka doesn't mind waiting, but if he asks? She'll tell him. "Just say thank you."
"Exclamation points?"
"No, she'll think those are weird, and I think a part of her dies every time she reads one of my texts without punctuation."
"Can I get rid of the capital, too, then?"
"Please. I can already see her eye twitching." Luka types the message, showing her the screen again so she can give him the okay to hit send. She does, "It's not that I want to aggravate her, I don't hate her, it's just… I…"
Want to mess with her.
Luka lets her trail off, nodding his head along with her words. "I get it." Marinette doesn't doubt he does. He reaches out, taking her hand, twisting it around, and using his thumb to rub circles into her palm. "You still good with this? We can take another break, or stop. It's your call."
Marinette doesn't want to stop. It's easier, doing this together. "No, I'm still good, we can finish."
"Alya, Juleka, your mom, unknown number, or group chat?"
Marinette pauses, who does she want to deal with now? The sun's still out. "What time is it?"
"Almost six." The bakery doesn't close until eight, she has two hours before her parents really start to notice that she's gone.
When she was younger, Marinette hated how busy her parents were, but now, after becoming Ladybug, she's thankful her parents don't have enough time to keep tabs on her. They love her, she knows they do, they just… love her in the only way they know how to. Distantly and with lots of food.
It works out.
She has enough freedom to be Ladybug, and only sometimes takes advantage of her parents' trust. Tikki's a good chaperone after all.
"Let's get unknown out of the way."
"Wow, even I'm surprised. Who knew you were this pathetic. Oh, wait, I did."
"I told Alya not to give out my number." Marinette groaned, thumping her head against the table. "I told her I didn't want Lila having it, but does she listen to me? Of course not."
"You know who this is?" Luka asks, he's gripping the phone tightly, his knuckles almost white.
Luka has a temper. Marinette forgets that sometimes, he makes it easy to, but… she's seen it. Luka's not afraid to stand up for her, he's done it before. The problem is, Marinette's not actually sure how far he'll go. While it would be amazing to see him go off on Lila—she knows he would—it's not worth the trouble. She doubts Lila will take him getting in her face nearly as well as XY did.
"Hey," Marinette says, taking three marshmallows out of the bag. She throws them, and they bounce off the side of Luka's face. "It's no big deal, it's just a girl from my class. She's always like this."
"What do you mean she's always like this, Marinette, that's not okay," Luka says, repeating what she already knows.
Objectively, Marinette is aware that Lila's text counts as cyberbullying. Objectively, because Marinette has dealt with Chloe bullying her for years, and she's not ready to add another person to the list. She'd rather acknowledge Lila as a manipulative liar than as her bully.
She's not ready to.
"Can we… move on to Juleka. She's not worth it." She has enough to deal with without making Lila a bigger part of this than she already is. "Just block her."
Luka hesitates, concerned. He gets up and walks over to the counter, seeming to take a moment to debate exactly what he wants to do. Count his breathing, apparently. Marinette can see the signs, can see how he's breathing in through his nose, and exhaling slowly out his mouth. Doing it ten times, pausing, then repeating. Which is good. An Akuma right now would suck.
He settles for grabbing a tin of cookies from the cupboard, bringing it back over with him, and placing it down in the center of the table, between them. Cookies are good, it's hard to feel hopeless when you're feeling full. Marinette remembers telling him that, once, after Silencer. She'd lingered back after band practice ended, and Luka asked her how she'd never been akumatized.
Tikki had pouted at her, but Marinette hadn't known what to say, so she'd reached into her purse and gave Luka a cookie.
"Fine," he finally says, still gripping the phone tighter than he needs to, but his knuckles aren't white anymore. "I'm taking a screenshot, though."
He does, sending it to himself. Marinette doesn't know why he'd want to keep something like that, but she sees no harm in letting him have it.
She grabs a cookie, nibbling the edges, steeling herself for Juleka's text. Marinette remembers the way Juleka's face had closed off. She hadn't looked happy, staying silent while the other girls crowded around Marinette's desk demanding details. Marinette wonders if she destroyed their friendship, she feels like she has.
"So were you ever going to tell me that you're dating my brother or…"
"We're not…" Luka's face scrunches up, brows drawing together. "What's she talking about?"
"I'm sorry." Marinette can't look at him. "I didn't mean to, I just—Lila just—"
Marinette takes a deep breath. In through her mouth, out through her nose, just like Luka taught her. She picks at the corner of her blanket, twisting the edge between her fingers. She likes the electric, rainbow stripes. They're distracting, a good thing to focus and ground herself around.
And she does need to focus, she starts bouncing her leg. Marinette's always felt like she gets too fidgety when she's nervous, her mind starts going too fast. It's like all her thoughts are accelerated by ten. She needs an outlet, besides her mouth, to redirect the energy away from her brain.
This is not the time to get tongue tied.
That will only make things worse.
"You just," Luka starts for her, trailing off with a clear invitation for her to continue.
"I kind of, may have, told my class that we're dating," Marinette says, her voice getting quieter with each word.
"Oh," Luka says, simply, like it's no big deal, and she hasn't completely destroyed their friendship.
He still looks confused, but there's no judgment. There's definitely not the anger she thought she'd see on his face. Marinette would understand him being mad. She told everyone she knows, everyone he knows, that they're dating. She told his bandmates that they're dating.
She expected him to be mad.
"I'm sorry," Marinette says, miserable. "I really am, and I'll fix it, I swear. I just panicked and you know how awful I am when I panic. It's—Lila was there and so was Adrien, and everyone was looking at me, and I shouldn't have just said that we were in a relationship, but I got overwhelmed.
Luka's looking at her, his brows drawing closer together. It's a funny face. "This," he starts, slowly, carefully, "is what you've been upset about. Why?"
"Why," Marinette says, incredulous, her voice rising with each word, "Luka, I just decided that we were in a relationship, without your consent, and told literally everyone. Your sister. Your bandmates. You have a right to be angry, hell, you should be pissed."
"Well, I'm not." Luka takes two cookies out of the tin, handing one to her and taking a bite out of the other. Marinette's not hungry, but she shoves the whole thing in her mouth anyway. "I don't mind, Marinette. You pulled the boyfriend card. Big deal. Who hasn't? I don't care that you did, I'm more concerned about why you had to."
"Lila," Marinette mumbles.
"The girl that sent the text?"
"Yeah…" Marinette sighs, deflating. "She was trying to get me to admit to having a crush on Adrien, but she was being so loud about it. Literally everyone was looking at us, and Alya wasn't doing anythingto stop her, so I… I sort of said that, 'there's no way I could have a crush on Adrien when I'm already dating Luka'. After that, everything just spiraled out of control. I didn't know how to tell you, over text. It didn't feel right, so I.."
"Came here." Luka finishes for her.
The minute school ended, Marinette had texted Luka asking if she could come over. He said yes, like he always said yes. She hadn't wasted a moment, dodging Alya and Lila and everyone else, who'd suddenly developed an interest in Marinette. Sitting in the back had its advantages, she was able to dart out before anyone could stop her.
"I didn't know what else to do. I knew I needed to tell you, and I know that I have to fix it, and I promise I will. I just don't know what to do or what to say. I have no idea how I can correct them without coming off like a complete liar. Like, who breaks up the same day they announce getting together?"
This time it's Luka's turn to look away. "What if you didn't?"
"Didn't what?" Marinette asks.
"Correct them."
She almost doesn't hear him, she probably wouldn't have, if they weren't sitting so close together. There's something terribly fragile in Luka's voice. Like he can't decide whether he's afraid to ask or afraid to hear the answer. It's both, maybe, she thinks.
Marinette's tempted, she can't lie, to take what Luka's offering. It would solve so many of her problems, but… it's not fair. He's never once hidden his feelings. He's told her on at least five separate occasions. Both privately and publicly. So Marinette knows exactly what Luka wants from her. She also knows what she can give, and while she's slowly reclaiming her heart…
She doesn't love him. Not like Luka loves her.
She doesn't know if she ever will.
"I have to." Marinette shakes her head. "For one, we're not together, and that aside, it's not fair to you, Luka. I couldn't ask you to pretend to be my boyfriend just so I can avoid looking like an ass."
"You're not asking, I'm offering."
"Luka, I don't…"
"Love me, I know," Luka says quietly. "But I love you. I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. This isn't me trying to take advantage of the situation, or trying to push my feelings on you. I'm just saying, I love you, and I don't mind everyone thinking we're together if it helps you out. You aremy friend. So… don't forget that."
"How would that even work?" Marinette asks. She's heading down a dangerous path, she knows Tikki won't approve. She can already hear the lecture, but… Marinette's resolve is a fickle thing.
"Nothing has to change between us," Luka says. Marinette hears the silent 'I promise', even if he doesn't say it with his words. "We already hang out, you come over to my house all the time. We can just… do what we always do, and let everyone else make assumptions."
"Nothing has to change?" Marinette asks, because it can't be that easy…
Can it?
"Nothing you don't want to."
"It's really not fair to you."
"I think," Luka murmurs, low and evenly, his eyes meeting hers. "I think I get to decide what's fair to me and what's not. If I say this is fine, that I want to do this for you, then, all you have to worry about is whether or not you want me to. There's no point in me stepping in if I end up making you uncomfortable, too."
"I want you to. I wouldn't mind you being my fake boyfriend." Marinette wouldn't mind him being her real boyfriend, one day, when her heart's not busy playing Adrien's name on repeat. Provided he doesn't end up hating her for this.
"If we both want to, why don't we?" Luka asks.
Marinette pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Common sense?"
Luka grins, just the faintest bit. "I've never had all that much of it."
"So then…"
"So then." Luka picks up where she left off. "I guess, we're dating—fake dating."
"What's that mean?"
Luka considers it for a moment. "That we still have to text Juleka and everyone else."
"I forgot about that."
"You know what you want to say?"
"Sorry, I should say sorry, and that…"
"It just happened?" Luka puts her phone on the table, so that she can see the screen.
She's not sure how Juleka is going to take it, but Marinette doesn't have the emotional capital to focus on her reaction right now.
"That sounds good," Marinette says, nudging the phone closer to Luka. "We can skip Alya, she'll call me when she's ready to interrogate me, the group chat's a mess, I haven't seen it, but I just know that Alya's spammed it. Texting it will only pour gasoline on the flames."
"That leaves your mom," Luka says.
"Are you coming home for dinner or are you girls having a sleepover? I can't remember if it was tonight?"
The sleepover was actually two nights ago. She'd gone over to Alya's with half the girls from her class and spent most of the night complaining and scheming about her love life.
Without so much as a second thought, Luka asks, "Want to spend the night?"
She hardly wants to tell her mom that. Her parents trust her, and Marinette appreciates that, but she's also a fifteen-year-old girl. She can hardly be blamed for taking advantage of her parents' overbusy lives for more than just Ladybug stuff. It's not like she makes a habit of it.
"Is that okay?"
"My mom gets back late, so if you don't want her to find out, we just have to get up early tomorrow. She won't care, though." Luka shrugs, and yeah Marinette can see Anarka not giving a second thought to her son having a girl spend the night.
"I'm exhausted." Marinette is. She's done with today, she's already spent tomorrow's energy.
"You look like it. Want to head back to my room? We can take a nap, or watch a movie, it's early enough."
Luka gets up, pushing his chair in. He lingers by the table, sliding Marinette's phone back over to her. She takes it, putting her ringer on silent. She'll worry about it later.
Marinette gets up, too, stretching her arms over her head. Her right elbow pops, and she lets out a little sigh. That felt good. She's stiff from all the tension she's been holding. Impulsively, she reaches out and snags Luka's hand.
"I want twelve naps," she says.
Luka laughs, loud and unrestrained as he starts leading her back down the hall. It's not a long walk, the houseboat isn't tiny, but the rooms are all clustered together. Still, it takes longer than Marinette would have liked. Maybe because, even though she doesn't have nearly enough energy for a freakout, she's still a bit freaked out that she agreed to spend the night, sleep over, with a guy.
An older guy.
She trusts Luka.
And that's the only thing that prevents her brain from freezing up and self-combusting into a mass of nerves and anxiety and oh my, God, I'm going to sleep with a guy.
"You can take Juleka's bed if you want, she's not coming back today, or we could share, I'm okay either way," Luak says.
They're standing in the doorway, and Marinette takes a moment to think about her options. She doesn't really want to be alone right now. That's the main reason she doesn't want to go home tonight. Luka's bed is big enough for both of them, she's shared her bed with Alya plenty of times, so as long as he's comfortable with it—
Marinette makes her decision, walking over to Luka's bed and patting the edge.
"Hey, Luka, is this still okay. You're good?"
"I'm good," he says, following her lead and sitting on the bed. He flicks down his privacy curtain, cutting the room in half. "I'd tell you if I wasn't. You would, too, right? Not just if you don't like something, but if something gets too much, or if you need a minute, you'll tell me, right?"
"Promise." Marinette holds out her right pinky.
Luka hooks his pinky through hers.