Disclaimer: I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Author's Note: I apologize, I know it's been weeks since the last update, but I've been busy these past few weeks.

Desideratum

Chapter 14

Fourteen

The second time that he used his key was on a hot summer evening. He had just returned from abroad, and wanted to see the two most important persons in his life before he headed home to catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep.

What he found was Cadence sulking at the kitchen table and Marinette nowhere to be seen.

There was a notebook and a textbook spread out in front of him; his brows were furrowed, and he was looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else but there. His entire face lit up when he turned and caught sight of him; he was jumping out of his seat and launching himself at him before Luka could even fully process the action.

He grinned as he caught him and easily lifted him up into his arms, hugging his small frame tightly against his.

It was almost amazing, how effortlessly he had managed to make a place for himself in Cadence's life, how naturally loving him had come, how easily he had managed to fit in the role of a father, and how much satisfaction it brought. And he knew that part of the reason for that was Marinette—for keeping his place in his son's life unoccupied.

At times like these, he felt terribly guilty for all the things he had screamed at her that fateful night. "You know, it's incredible how I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you find something else to do."

Luka turned around at the sound of her voice to come face to face with the woman that would forever be haunting his thoughts.

She was dressed in a dark blue, short dress, with sleeves that reached her elbows and hems that brushed her mid thighs. Her long legs were clad in a pair of high, nude heels, and she was holding an envelope in her hands, together with her phone and a set of keys. Long dark hair had been twisted in a messy up-do in order not to fall down her back. She was wearing make-up, her eyes touched with the slightest hint of brown, her lips tainted pink, and her complexion as flawless as always.

He had thought the only one whom he had missed had been Cadence. After all, he had been used to her absence. It seemed like he had been wrong, though, because all that he felt in that moment, all he could possibly think, was how to never let this woman out of his sight again.

"It wasn't my fault!" Cadence complained from where he sat in his embrace, his little arms wrapped around his neck.

"I know," Marinette answered. "I was simply curious if you wrote down another word in the time that I was gone."

"It wasn't—"

"Quit," she advised. "Now."

Cadence promptly shut his mouth at her stern tone and the serious expression on her face, but when Luka turned his head to face him with a knowing grin, he was surprised to find him not glaring at her, but rather pressing his lips together in order to keep from laughing.

And he was left to wonder—how much was there left for him to learn about their relationship? How much was there left for him to discover about Marinette, about the mother of his child?

"I'm hungry?" he attempted, as incapable of losing an argument as Marinette herself was known to be.

"Sure," she agreed. "I make dinner, you do homework, and we'll see what happens next."

"I'll help," Luka offered.

Marinette rolled her eyes, already making her way towards the kitchen area. "Yes, you can stay, do nothing, and then have dinner with us."

Cadence and Luka both laughed.

Later, he sat at the table with his son, gazing around the luxurious apartment while he struggled to concentrate on finishing his homework.

When his eyes caught on a particularly expensive-looking bouquet of blood-red roses, he frowned.

Cadence, who had abandoned his sentence in favor of checking up on his father, followed his line of sight, glanced at the vase once, and then shrugged as he returned his gaze to his notebook.

"Alexandre likes her," he offered as an explanation.

Luka's entire expression seemed to darken as his eyes snapped down to look at him. "Who's Alexandre?"

"Her boss," he answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. But she ignores him."

Huffing an amused breath, he smiled. He should have known. "That's good to know," he murmured, more to himself than to his son.

"Kind of everybody likes her," the boy continued. "She's really pretty."

"Is she, now?" Luka asked, grinning now, his gaze rising to watch her move about in the kitchen.

"You proud of her?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "She's prettier than most moms out there."

"That she is, Cadence," he said, gathering all of his willpower to unglue his eyes from her figure and look back down at his son. He ruffled his hair. "That she is."

"What are you two doing?" she demanded, taking them by surprise. They turned to see her standing beside them, hands on her hips. "Chatting?"

Cadence laughed.

"What's wrong?" Leaning against the table with one hand, she gazed down at him.

The boy looked up at her with a confused expression on his features.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You've been staring at that notebook for five minutes, and it better not be because you're being lazy."

"I don't get this," he immediately claimed.

Whether he truly didn't or he said that exactly because he was smart, Luka wasn't able to tell.

He could only watch, with a fond look in his eyes, as she explained the apparent problem to him, leaning over him, wavy strands of dark hair falling around her face. Her voice was patient as she spoke, and he could see the adoration in her expression.

"Is that clear?" she asked.

Cadence nodded.

She rolled her eyes once more as she moved back to the kitchen area. "Stop pouting," she said. "It's not getting you out of this."

"But, Mom—"

"You're doing your homework and that's that," she said in a firm voice.

Grinning, Luka rubbed his back affectionately. "Come on," he coaxed. "The faster you get this done, the sooner you can go back to your normal life."

"I know, but…" he whined, and from experience, he knew he was resisting the urge to slam his head down on the table.

He laughed. "And if I promise to take you out once you finish?"

The young boy still seemed reluctant, but after a moment of deliberation, nodded in agreement.

Luka smiled as he watched him pick up his pen and return to his homework, taking that as his cue to leave. With a new resolve, he moved to help Marinette in the kitchen. She was retrieving a knife from a drawer to cut up the ingredients for a salad when he came to stand beside her. Leaning against the counter with his hands on either side of him, he watched her.

"He seems to be a lot like me," he remarked wryly.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You have no idea how right you are," she said.

He swallowed heavily. "Have you ever… thought about me when he did these things? When he complained, when he…?"

Marinette swore, and he immediately straightened in alarm. She had cut herself with the knife.

"Shit," he muttered. Taking control, he opened the tap and grabbed her hand, shoving it under the cold water. A small hiss escaped her lips; the wound was deep, thick blood trickling out of it and mixing with water to run down the drain. She attempted to jerk away at first, but he kept her in place with a firm grip on her wrist until he spotted a clean rag on the counter and was able to press it to the cut.

Holding her finger tightly, he looked at her in the eye. Neither spoke for a long moment. It seemed like an eternity had passed since they last gazed at each other like that.

"Should I take that as a 'yes'?" he eventually asked.

She averted her gaze. "What we had, Luka… what we had was special. There was no way I could have forgotten it so easily, just because I wanted to. Cadence reminded me of you in every way possible." She huffed an amused breath, shaking her head. "He still does."

"That can't have been easy, Marinette," he pressed, taking a step closer, the movement coaxing her into looking up at him. "It just can't. How did you deal with it?"

"The same way anybody would have, in my place," she answered breezily. "It's okay now," she said, gently taking her hand back. "Thanks."

Leaning against the counter once again, he watched as she walked out of the room, only to return a moment later with a band-aid. After wrapping it expertly around her finger, she resumed her activities.

The words pushed their way past his lips then, long before he could filter them, long before he could think them through. Almost immediately, though, he decided he didn't regret saying them. "Do you think…?"

"No," she answered firmly, abruptly. She didn't need to hear the rest in order to know what he meant, what he was asking her.

Luka, on his part, recognized the signs. The walls were once again rising around her to protect her, like they did every time she was vulnerable—like they did every time she was around him.

And there was nothing he could do to stop that.

A/N: I will quickly update the following chapters.