DAY TWELVE: PROPOSAL
Viperion scarpered immediately, and Ladybug would have followed suit if Chat hadn't attempted to ask her out on a Valentine's Day date—which she rejected, though she wasn't sure if he'd accepted that.
When she was finally able to get away, she only made it as far as the side of the school building when her transformation dropped. "That was exhausting," she muttered, stretching her arms above her head until they clicked. "I hope we don't get another love-themed one tomorrow…"
Tikki nodded in agreement as she nibbled on a cookie, but her eyes were dull with worry. Ushering the kwami into her purse, Marinette set off around the building, intending to go straight home and have a nap before starting on her homework. However, as she neared the front, she found a familiar figure sitting on a low brick wall.
Luka, looking at his phone. She couldn't see his face as he sat with his back to her, but from his slumped shoulders and the knees curled into his chest, he looked either tired or nervous, or maybe both. Before she could call out to him, her phone began to buzz in her pocket.
Luka calling…
Were they meant to meet up? Had she forgotten to put it on her calendar? Perhaps he just wanted to ask her something, but then why was he loitering outside her school? Maybe he was waiting for Juleka, but she'd no doubt left already.
Marinette pressed the reject call button as she approached him, surprised when his whole body suddenly drooped and he raked his hand through his hair. Maybe he was panicking about something and was looking for a friendly word…
"Hey," she said loudly, startling him. "What are you doing out here?"
He looked ill. His skin was pale and his eyes were dark and haunted. He stared at her, almost disbelieving, then stood from his perch and jogged the distance in between them.
"You're alright," he said, hand raised as if to touch her arms, as if to check she was real and not an apparition. His voice was strained and weak.
"Are you alright?" Marinette asked with an odd sense of déjà vu. "What's wrong? You're acting...weird."
"Sorry," he muttered, his hand returning to his already messy hair. "One of those days, you know?"
"Are you sure? You're really worrying me, Luka."
"I appreciate it, but I'm really fine." His smile was forced.
Clearly he wasn't, but she didn't want to push him. Instead she held up her phone. "So, what can I do for you?"
"I...just wanted to hear your voice."
How...unexpectedly romantic. Marinette fought down the blush threatening to stain her face and busied herself putting her phone in her bag as an excuse to look away until she'd regained her composure. "Why are you hanging around outside my school then?" she asked. "Are you waiting for Juleka? I think she's already gone."
"No, I was just passing," he replied. "Can I walk you home?"
"Sure."
They walked first in silence. Luka gradually returned to a normal colour, and his mouth tilted into his usual easy smile. His shoulders relaxed, and when he spoke up to ask how her day was, his voice had loosened.
Usually, it would only take a few minutes to walk home, but Marinette led him on the longer, more scenic route through the park, just in case he decided he wanted to tell her what was really wrong. He didn't reveal anything, but at least he no longer looked as though he was going to collapse or throw up.
He had looked, she realised as he talked about something-or-other that had happened at lycée that day, like she'd felt that morning: bogged down with the terror of confessing something deep, soul-deep, and sick with the fear of being rejected and embarrassed. Maybe that's what was bothering him, the girl he liked. Was he going to confess to his crush too?
Well, she thought, considering the number of people who had told her she ought to just confess and get it done with, maybe he needs to do the same. So, when he had finished speaking—she caught the tail end of something about a music concert his school was going to put on—she took control of the conversation.
"I have a proposal for you."
"What, like a marriage proposal?"
He laughed as she elbowed him. "No, you doofus. A proposal like in an idea."
"I do like ideas."
"If I confess to Adrien tomorrow," she continued, watching his face morph into something akin to discomfort, "you have to confess to this girl you like."
He turned away, mouth pursed. "I don't think that's such a great idea."
"Why not? You're great, Luka. She'll probably be thrilled that you like her."
"She won't. She's...well." He rubbed the back of his head; his fingers were soon lost in the thick jungle of his hair. "I already know she doesn't like me that way. There isn't really much point in putting it out there and getting my heart broken properly."
"How do you know she doesn't like you?" she pressed. "She'd be crazy not to!"
Marinette very nearly gave a lecture about all the reasons this mystery girl ought to like him; after all, she'd written all of the material she needed when she had been attempting a love note, but she barely managed to get the first word out when Luka shook his head with a painful expression.
"I know she doesn't," he said sadly, "because she's in love with someone else."
"Oh." No wonder he looked so upset. Marinette thought back to her double date at the ice-skating rink, and remembered the anguish she'd felt when Adrien asked for her help in dating someone else, and the pain when she watched him and Kagami skating together.
It was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anyone.
Well, perhaps Chloé and Lila deserved it, but she doubted either of them were capable of really loving anyone but themselves enough to suffer true heart-break.
But not Luka. Not sweet, thoughtful, selfless Luka.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, clearly taking her lack of response to be an awkward silence. "I shouldn't have unloaded like that. You must think I sound like a bit of a creep now. Writing songs for someone who doesn't want me."
"No! You're not a creep!" she yelped. "Luka, it's romantic. You'd only be a creep if you, I don't know, broke into her house to serenade her at midnight or something."
"Ah!" He threw his hands up, feigning a look of annoyance. "There go my plans for tomorrow."
"Luka!"
"I suppose there's always plan B: kidnap her and keep her chained up under my bed."
"Luka!" She tried to sound serious despite her giggling, not made any easier by his laughter. "No! There's only one clear solution."
"Oh?" One side of his mouth quirked up in a playful grin. The expression suited him a little too well and Marinette nearly forgot to reply.
"You have to murder her and the person she likes," Marinette said. "It's what Shakespeare would want."
"You are a woman wise beyond your years."
"Finally! Someone realises it."
By the time they reached the bakery, Marinette felt in far better spirits and Luka looked it too. However, when they reached the front door, and she turned to say goodbye, she found that haunted look had bled back into his eyes as he stared at her. Not her face; just slightly below. Her neck. Did she have a dirty mark? Had the collar of her jacket gotten rucked up? Had she dribbled some of her lunch down her chin?
She went to touch the spot, but then his eyes shifted up and he smiled. "Have a good evening, Ma-Ma-Marinette. I hope tomorrow works out for you."
"Too you! I mean, you too!" she scrambled, prompting a chuckle from Luka before he turned and left. She watched him walk down the street, his hands tucked into his pockets, head tilted back as though gazing at invisible stars. Then he turned a corner and was gone.
Inside, Sabine was wiping the bakery counter with a damp cloth. "Your father is in the kitchen," she said, tilting her head towards the door. "He has some left over dehydrated passion fruit and tempered chocolate. We thought you might like to use it to make some sweets for your friends for tomorrow?"
"Thanks, maman." Marinette gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "That sounds like a good idea."
