A pretty simple yet still sweet chapter this time around. After Alya leaves for the night, Marinette calls Luka and they talk in more detail about the past few days, picking up the conversation from where they'd left off earlier in the night. This is mostly a look at communication in relationships -how poor communication can harm them and how good communication can help to mend damage. Mentions of Marinette's past trauma and a brief examination of trauma responses. All topped off with a sweet moment at the end. Hopefully, this is an enjoyable read.
Chapter Eight
Built on Communication
After a couple hours of restless slumber, Luka finally surrenders, accepting the fact that he just won't be getting any sleep. He's been tossing and turning since he laid down. It's obvious what is behind this terrible night's rest. The situation with Marinette. It doesn't seem to matter that he'd already spoken to his girlfriend and supposedly sorted out some of their troubles earlier, the events of the last several days continue to weigh heavily on his mind.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sluggishly rolls over onto his other side, eyes seeking out the digital alarm clock on his nightstand. One forty in the morning. One freaking forty. He's just not going to get sleep tonight if he doesn't take action now.
Tousling his already unkempt bedhead, he searches out the smart device in the folds of his blanket. It takes a couple minutes in this darkness to find it, but as soon as the item in question is found, he types out and sends off a quick text. It could be a long shot at this point in the night, but maybe Marinette is still awake and enjoying her movie night with Alya. If she is still hanging out with her friend, he wouldn't interrupt, but maybe just sending a few messages back and forth will ebb his restlessness to the point where he can get a few hours of sleep.
In her own home across town, things are finally winding down and the 'girl's day' is coming to an end.
Though Marinette thought Alya might just spend the night, she does decide to head home in the very early hours of the morning. She insisted her best friend stay and crash here for the night and yet the other woman excused herself, citing the fact that she had agreed to keep today's visit short and it turned into the complete opposite. The conversation goes in circles for several minutes, and after failing to convince the stubborn redhead, Marinette gives up the fight. Ensuring the woman knows she has in no way overstayed her welcome and that their plans simply changed, the discussion tapers off.
After collecting all the clothes she'd bought at the store and the remainder of her Chinese food, Alya wraps Marinette in another tight embrace. Even on the way out the door her reporter friend is sure to reiterate that avoiding problems never solves them, following that up with another request to be kept up to date on the progress of Marinette and Luka's relationship. With a thankful smile, Marinette agrees as she sees her friend out.
Now that the company has gone, the young designer is left to the quiet of her single-occupant household and suddenly feels like she needs something to fill the emptiness. An app game might do the trick, even if it only lulls her into a relaxed state so she can fall asleep. Glancing down at the phone in her hand, she notices Luka has messaged her again. Despite the early hour, this particular text is from only moments ago. It's the middle of the night. She thought she'd be the only one awake at such an hour, but it looks like, tonight at least, she isn't the only insomniac in her social circle.
It's not exactly a deep discussion. He wants to know how the movie marathon is going.
She grins at no one in particular, alone in her darkened living room, the last few moments of a movie playing on the TV she now ignores.
He had said he'd let her go so she could have fun with her friend, but it's clear he's still thinking of her and hoping for engagement. Her actions over these last few days have made him feel justifiably insecure, so the attention-seeking is to be expected. She wonders if even after her earlier assurances during their phone call, he still feels anxious about the standing of their relationship. Obviously, she is going to have to remedy this situation if it turns out her suspicions are grounded in fact.
As an idea begins to form in her mind, she nervously chews on her lower lip. It's not exactly like she can take time out of her work schedule last minute to set up another date with him. But…she may be able to work time with him into her schedule in another way. There are many reasons she hesitates, but the reasons which top her list are in no way surprising. Asking to spend more time with him could be perceived as pushy and overbearing. If she can, she'd like to avoid doing that. But asking him to consider what she has in mind may be pushing the envelope a bit too far regardless -especially considering what happened when he visited the bakery. Nevertheless, she is compelled to at least offer the option.
Sending a reply to his text, the bluenette lets her boyfriend know Alya has gone home for the night and that now she's alone in her small duplex once again.
His reply only takes seconds to arrive. He's happy she had a good day with her friend and that she was able to slow down and take it easy, if only for a few hours.
Now that the ball is back in her court in so far as guiding the conversation is concerned, she takes the opportunity to repeat back to the man a question he had asked her earlier.
[Marinette Dupain-Cheng 1:47am: Can I call you?]
The answer to her question is practically instantaneous, leaving her wondering how he'd managed to read it and type a response in so little time.
[Luka Couffaine 1:47am: Of course.]
She wastes no time, quickly hitting the telephone icon on her screen to call. The call is immediately picked up and she can hear some rustling in the background as she offers a quick greeting.
"Hey…" Gone are all traces of the awkwardness and tension his voice had been riddled with during their earlier chat. Now his tone of voice is lower and rougher around the edges, almost husky-sounding.
"I'm sorry…were you about to sleep?" Guilt seems to be a common theme in her mindset today. This had been an attempt at taking the first step to repair whatever damage was done by her ignoring him the last few days. It sucks if really all she's managed to do instead is keep him awake. He probably has work or other obligations in the morning and needs the sleep. "This can wait if you need to-"
"No, don't go…" Now he feels more alert. Suddenly, the urgency in and volume of his voice spike as he cuts her off, followed quickly by a rough clearing of his throat. "You're not keeping me up. I dozed off for a while and just kinda woke up before I sent that text."
Something about this entire interaction -from the rush he'd been in to prevent her from ending the call to the groggy lilt in his speech- makes her smile to herself, his behavior nothing apart from endearing. He's clearly only semi-conscious and still comes off as eager to keep their conversation going -to keep spending time in her company, in one form or another. The only way to describe his behavior at present is adorable.
Still, in spite of his insistence, she must wonder if this is really okay. Given the late hour, the fact that he is also a person with a schedule to keep in the next few hours and the guilt still simmering quietly within her over this past week, checking in just one more time feels right. For certainty's sake.
"Are you sure you're good?" The feelings of concern are clear in every word of this question, even to her own ears.
A small huff of amusement can be heard through the phone before a real answer comes.
"Marinette, you're important to me. You can always call when there's something you need. I'll do what I can to make time to talk." His tone is gentle and somehow still firm as he reassures her. "You had Alya over and I didn't want to be rude, but I was hoping we could talk longer when I called earlier. There's a lot we've gotta work out still…since someone's been avoiding me for several days…"
Even though she's well aware he's teasing, the guilt she's been carrying around jumps from a quiet simmer to a boil. It wasn't right to protect herself by causing him undue stress. Even if she is now almost hard-wired to believe that keeping quiet is the best thing for everyone, with Luka, she's learning that is simply not true. Explaining her position would have prevented a lot of stress for them both. Instead, her fear of oversharing had guided her actions on an instinctual level. Swallowing thickly as heat rushes over her skin, it is obvious another apology is in order.
"I really am sorry, Luka…" Her voice trails off as the words begin to fail her. Given that she has already apologized once and still feels terribly guilty, re-hashing the same sentiments just doesn't seem like enough to cover the scope of her poor behavior. Still, the words bare repeating. "You didn't deserve any of that. It was wrong."
"I was only joking…but it probably was too soon to tease. I'm not mad or anything…well, not anymore. You haven't told me about this stuff, so I'm sorry if I'm way off-base here but I kinda picked up on this idea that there was someone in your life who made you believe that anytime you share your feelings, you're doing something wrong or being annoying. Am I right?" Shuffling in place on his bed, he turns onto his other side to make himself more comfortable while holding the phone.
Her jaw falls slack. She's never once brought it up as the whole ordeal brings up a lot of terrible memories and emotions. Still, just from spending time with her, he'd formed a pretty accurate summation of that failed venture.
"W-well…y-yeah but…how?" She hadn't been trying to make herself so obvious, but looking back, there were probably a lot of things combined that gave her away.
"Your actions…and, well…I have a past too." The volume of his voice drops an octave or two, taking on a somber tone. A heavy sigh follows the words.
Okay, fair enough. When you've been through a lot of terrible things, it has to be way easier to recognize someone displaying behaviors that suggest they have a checkered past.
"I feel awful that I'm letting the past dictate how I treat you." Her voice swells with emotion. Volatile emotions brought on by visions of the past and by her own guilt over making these things Luka's problem rock her as she fights off becoming choked up by it all.
"I'm not going to lie and tell you I was fine with being avoided. It did hurt. It worried me and made me upset, but I understand why you would do what you did. Maybe you feel like you made a mistake, but you're doing your best and you made the effort to fix it, so be gentle with yourself -this isn't easy. It's all good." He runs a hand through his hair, hoping that the truth will help to ease her conscience. That's what he'd like her to take away from this miniature Ted talk, if possible. He laughs softly to himself as he realizes that is what his encouragement ended up sounding like. "Thanks for coming to my TED talk."
Despite everything, this comment does draw a small laugh from the woman on the other end of the phone line.
"Actually, part of the reason I called is because I still feel awful about the last several days. I know I was being an idiot," even as she opens up this dialogue, she worries that it might be a bit too much for him, "and I wanted to keep making an effort to fix it."
"I'm listening…" Now that he's spent a number of days in a limbo of confusion, fear and anxiety, he's eager to hear what ideas she has in mind. If she wants to do more than simply verbally apologize to make amends, he won't get in the way.
"Well…I'm not really sure if it'll be okay for you…but it was all I could come up with…" The words pass over her lips in a thoughtful, hesitant manner.
"It's okay. Tell me." A tent forms in his brow as he encourages her to share.
The damage from this third-party abuser from her past is complex enough that it might not be something which can ever be undone. She's so afraid that no matter what she says, she'll be wrong somehow. It's rooted so deeply in her mind that even when she wants to trust others, she can't do it. Then, she takes action to protect herself by simply not sharing her opinions and ends up feeling guilty for doing what she has been conditioned to believe will keep her safe. It doesn't only make the man hurt on her behalf, it makes him angry as well.
"Well…any time I'm not at home working on clothing, I'm at my parent's bakery to help them out. I'd invite you to come by while I'm working on clothing design, but I'll be focused on that and not being good company. I feel like what might be the best way to see each other for a few hours is for you to come over and hang out at the bakery…" Her voice trails off as she goes on, tension rising as the silence from his end of the line continues. "but…my dad…I don't want to put you in that position after what happened last time. You can say no…I just wanted to throw the option out there."
A moment of empty air follows these comments. And the stress begins to mount.
In the quiet of his room, the loudest sound to be heard is the thudding of his own heartbeat. Saying he isn't afraid would be a massive lie. Though there is no sufficient cause for it, the thought of interacting with the large, burly man still results in a huge wave of anxiety. In spite of this, the allure of being able to spend time with her is strong enough to nearly override the less desirable feelings. It isn't something he feels any need to make a secret of. During this short period of minimal communication and active avoidance on her part, he's really missed her. The absence of her attention and companionship created a much larger void than he had expected and putting it as bluntly as possible, he's been sulking.
"L-like I said…you don't have to!" The panic in her tone startles him out of his train of thought. "I-I just wanted to see what you thought… so, uhm…well…"
"Whoa, slow down! Please…please don't be upset." The words fly out of his mouth in a rush. It only takes seconds to realize that she will completely misunderstand him if he doesn't jump in and explain the prolonged silence.
"Right…uh, yeah…well, it's hard not to feel nervous, though. When you go quiet like that…" The parallels between his position for the last several days and her own position right now cause the woman to trail off into silence as awareness of her own hypocrisy rises. Her eyes follow the characters on the TV screen as she awaits a reply.
"I got distracted thinking about things." He feels the warmth sweeping along the back of his neck and over his nose and cheeks as the meaning of his own thoughts seems to settle in. Missing someone and feeling lonely aren't necessarily new to him, but they are new in this context. He missed her. Her absence left him wanting for something. And, perhaps most importantly -he was afraid to lose her. Even as in touch with his own emotions as he would consider himself to be, he is still surprised by them. Each moment like this one appears to contain a profound epiphany about himself -a moment in which he rediscovers his ability to feel things he thought had vanished some time ago. As these moments accumulate, they become convincing evidence that he's falling head over heels in love with this woman. Though the sentiment remains unspoken verbatim, it's plain as day it is the truth.
"What things?" Her soft inquiry echoes through the phone's speaker, sounding taken aback by his pensive tone.
"I missed you -talking to you, and it was lonely not being able to." Though alone, a warm smile lights up his features as he replies. This isn't information he feels compelled to hide. He wants her to know what his feelings are. More and more, he finds himself wanting to share it all with her.
She has to admit, she'd been feeling a few similar things, though the immense guilt had overshadowed those emotions by a pretty wide margin. It brings her peace and comfort to hear him admit this. A bashful smile brightens her features as she replies. "Even though it was my fault for being stupid, I missed you, too."
Oh man. Though he will try to express himself when he replies, he's sure he won't be able to properly describe the weight it takes off his shoulders to hear these words from her. It's like finally catching his breath after a long period of struggling to move air in and out of the lungs. He'd become genuinely worried she might end things entirely. The last few days have been nothing but a stress-heavy emotional minefield, each curt response and extended period of silence causing more intense distress.
In moments, all that confusion and frustration is wiped from existence.
"That's such a huge relief -hearing that, that is." Though his words are not "thank you", they certainly sound a lot like it.
"The feeling is mutual." Ta not only feels good to say it, but to know that that he's happy to hear it.
In keeping with the goal of this open discussion they're having, he has to make sure she knows where he's at mentally.
"I'm really glad you want to spend time with me, but I think you're probably right that I'm not ready. Your dad is a good person, so I feel crappy for saying this...but I'm still afraid. I'm…sorry." Even as much as he would like it to not be true, this fear still has a tight grip on how he interacts with the world. Trying to force himself to ignore it would do much more harm than good.
"No, don't be! I don't think you're being crappy. It was just an idea." She knew it was a long shot in the first place -he was likely to decline from the get-go. A frown tugs the corners of her lips down, her brow knotted tightly as she pouts. Even if she knew this was the likely outcome, it doesn't stop the disappointment. Though the main objective was to make amends with him, part of this invitation had also been for the simple reason of wanting to spend time with Luka.
"I still really want to see you, though." He runs a hand through his hair fitfully, biting down on his lower lip as he flops over to lay flat on his back, staring up at the darkened ceiling and considering his options for a rendezvous, however brief. "Do you think I could come by your place for breakfast tomorrow before you go over there?"
In an instant, her heart is off and racing again, face flushed all the way to her hairline. It would seem the two of them are on an identical wavelength. They both seek the same things.
"There won't be much time…" Still every bit as happy to get to see him as always, there is an audible pout in her tone of voice. It can't be helped when she'd wanted more time together.
"I'm okay with that." Here too, the feeling is quite mutual, but options are limited and for now sharing a quick meal tomorrow morning will have to suffice.
"Then sure." A wistful smile plays on her lips as her wispy reply makes its way out over her lips and into the receiver. "Breakfast it is."
"Cool…" With the conversation now sounding as thought it will wind to a close, he finds himself sorting through a list of phrases in his mind, trying to come up with a new topic of discussion. Maybe it's greedy, but it seems he wants to monopolize all her time now that he's been presented with an opportunity to interact even a little.
"So…you were a big part of what Alya and I talked about today." Her ears burn as she realizes what she'd just said. It was the first set of words that floated through her mind, and she just blurted it all out haphazardly. Well, there's no taking it back now. She's been keeping enough from him lately anyway so there's nothing left to do but continue to roll with it.
"Oh yeah?" Ultramarine eyes widen in surprise at this sudden admission.
"Mhm." Still somewhat embarrassed, her answer is relatively short and flat.
"Should I be worried?" He's hovering between feeling flattered that he'd been on her mind enough that she felt the need to talk about it with someone and somewhat worried she'd been bothered enough to have to vent to a friend about the stress she felt.
"No…you don't need to be worried. I let her know how things were going and she called me out for acting like an idiot. She also encouraged me to talk it out with you." Another rush of gratitude runs through her as she thinks back on the entire day. Even if there are times her friends can be a little too overprotective, every once in a while, it turns out to be a good thing.
"So, what you're saying is that I owe Alya a thank you." With a light, airy laugh, Luka makes a mental note to be sure and let Alya know he's grateful the next time he sees her. Marinette had been too afraid of a negative reaction to share her real feelings and the redhead is the one who helped her through that confusion. It's pretty much the reason why he has this chance to lay out all his worries and hear hers. Now they can take this chance to build up understanding and practice good communication, strengthening the bond they've formed and move forward. It feels freaking good.
"Nah. I'm saying I owe her." Much like her boyfriend, her gratitude for Alya's bluntness has never been more acute than this moment.
"Alright, the compromise is obviously that we both do." Honestly, the man is still so caught up in the rush of thankfulness that he is nearly compelled to get Marinette's extroverted friend a gift. A huge portion of his anxiety is gone thanks to the boisterous woman. However, a pretty big question remains unanswered. He'd tried to ask it when he first called but couldn't quite form the words and then he lost confidence knowing there was another person in the room during a conversation that he would have liked to have more privately. Now that they have that privacy and he's considerably more confident about what way she might respond, it seems easier to ask. "Do you mind answering something for me?"
"Anything." Even the most ridiculous, nonsense question from him right now would be one she'd look for a way to answer.
"Being in this relationship with me is what you want, right? What we have is making you happy and you want to be part of it still -is that true?" Even as he says the words, he can feel his body tensing. This is what he'd been most in need of having answered definitively earlier. Unconscious of it, he holds his breath as a brief silence ensues.
For a split second, she's stunned at the words she hears from the other end of the phone line. Just how badly had she scared him during her short period of avoidance? Though a similar worry was present in every message and short conversation up until now, nothing makes the gravity of it clearer than these words. Another pang of guilt hits her hard now that she can fully grasp the extent of the damage with a bit more clarity. An image pops into her mind of exactly what the expression on the musician's face must look like right now. If they were sitting in the same room and not having this conversation via telephone, she would already comforting him and assuaging his doubts.
"Yes, absolutely. I'm happy and I want this. I'm so awful…I can't believe I worried you that much…" voice beginning to waver with emotion once again, she trails off into silence.
"Hey…you're not awful. Okay? We've been through this already. I get it was your way of protecting yourself and I can't be mad about that. I'm not asking this to make you feel bad. Yes, I want to know we're okay, but this is more of a general check-in," trailing off for a moment, he finds himself feeling the slightest hints of something akin to awe, "to see where we stand. Communication is important in relationships. So, stopping to figure it out when there's are problems or just to stay on the same page is something I hope we can do regularly."
"Yeah," almost a little breathless, the bluenette does her best to get a response out, "I think we should. But you know…you're kinda amazing." She can't help but to feel a little awe-struck. His approach is new to her, but it is entirely welcome. He is not only transparent about his own feelings and needs, he accepts hers wholly and without accusation or judgement.
"How so?" The question falls from his lips impulsively. She's given him a few similar compliments and while he knows she's being sincere, he still struggles with simply accepting kind words or praise.
"You're pretty much the only one out of anyone I've dated who cares about these kinds of things. Thinking about how to solve problems and wanting to talk about what's going on in your head when something bothers you, that kind of thing. It shouldn't be, but it's incredible." It isn't exactly the set of words she'd meant to use, but she still manages to express some of the sentiments she'd been attempting to share.
"I feel a little annoyed hearing that…" If Luka is understanding the interpretation of her words correctly, then he's very annoyed. Communication may be uncomfortable sometimes, but it's essential to relationship building and it isn't often hard to do.
"Someone jealous?" An amused grin touches her lips. It wouldn't be the first time he's been jealous, but it isn't any less cute.
"Nah, I don't have anything to be jealous of," a languid shrug of the shoulders punctuates his words in the dark of his room, a barely-there haughty smirk tugging one corner of his mouth upward, "I'm the one you're in a relationship with right now."
"So…then why?" An intriguing concept indeed.
"If you value a relationship, good communication and respecting boundaries are the most basic ways to show it. If you're not gonna do that, you shouldn't start something serious. I just think you deserved better." A thoughtful light touches his eyes as he stares up at the darkened ceiling and rattles off the facts of the matter.
"Then I've got some good news for you: now I have better." Touched, her response contains nothing apart from the first unfiltered thought to run through her mind as she digests the sweet words he'd spoken. In all her years, she's never felt quite so cherished and if she could have one wish granted, it would be that these few simple words could somehow make him feel that way too. A tender gleam highlights her bluebell eyes as she watches the TV screen but focuses her energy on the conversation. A rosy color begins to highlight her cheeks.
Now it's his turn to feel a flush heat his skin. His heart rate picks up and he bites down on his lip, his grip on the smartphone in his hand tightening. Sure, it's a wonderful compliment. But those words aren't so shallow as to be ones he can equate with simple flattery. She is openly and honestly affirming how deeply she values him as her current partner. The phrasing makes it sound as though her opinion is that he's indisputably the best of the lot. Letting the idea sink in for a moment actually begins to make him feel a little choked up.
"T-thank you…" delight continues to consume him until he simply can't maintain composure anymore, "fuck that feels good to hear."
"That's not a word I hear you use often." Though she is genuinely surprised he'd used this particular bit of blue language, the comment is more or less only made in jest. An issue with swearing is nowhere on her list of grievances with the world.
"What you told me isn't something I've heard often either." So, in his estimation, it was warranted.
"That's gonna be different from now on. Promise." All the sudden, she feels overrun by a strong surge of determination. Not a single romantic partner from his past had thought it necessary to make sure he heard this. Everyone who puts time and effort into their relationships deserves to have that effort acknowledged and appreciated. The fact that this doesn't seem to be his experience is unacceptable. It's a wrong she'll do her best to right moving forward.
"Really? Can you start right now? I'd love to hear all about how handsome and talented I am." He can't stop the smile that takes over his features. Though his tone sounds playful and he speaks these words as if they are a joke, he's quite serious.
"You're incorrigible." The words come out caught halfway between playful and scolding. Suddenly finding herself back in this familiar playful banter pattern with her boyfriend after a short bout of stupidity on her part has really improved her mood.
"Hey…that's the opposite of nice…" He plays up a pouty tone, counting on it egging her on. A content smile plays on his lips as he brings one hand up to rest beneath the back of his head. This conversation is beginning to take a more light-hearted and playful tone. It's great to just be silly like usual.
"Aww, now you're pouting. How cute." She is fully aware he's only acting. Playing along seems like a lot more fun than taking this conversation in another direction, so she responds in the way she knows he wants her to.
"If you like cute, I'll take it. Compliment accepted." A soft chuckle escapes the man along with his comments.
"Cad." Though she does her best to get it out in a quick snap and keep her voice serious, she finds herself laughing. It's true that he's behaving mischievously, but she kinda digs it, so it's hard to take herself seriously.
"Prude." Luka does somehow manage to get his comeback out without breaking his even tone but finds her laughter so infectious that he can't keep up the façade for long.
Within seconds, both people are laughing out loud. The fit lasts for another several seconds before they manage to collect themselves. Honestly, the whole thing wasn't as funny as the laughter might suggest. They're both just feeling so light after really getting down to it and addressing the issues. The dopamine and oxytocin output inside both their minds has gone berserk.
"I'm glad you called. It was really good to actually talk to you." Luka is the first to speak again, his tone colored by the warmth of affection.
"It was really nice." Her reply comes out softly, some hesitation lingering within the words. She finds herself wondering if she's told him how much she cares in so many words even once during these last few weeks. Though she'd just been teasing him over fishing for praise, she is honestly considering giving what he'd been asking for. Right now, a particular phrase hangs in the forefront of her consciousness, demanding to be spoken aloud. On an emotional level, she feels closer to him than ever right now. Her attachment to and affection for this man are at an all-time high and she aches to speak the feelings aloud. However, the right words escape her.
If she goes with a phrase like "I really like you," it feels lukewarm at best and even somewhat childish. On the other hand, she really isn't sure how ready he is to hear something like "I love you." It's only been a few weeks. He has said in one form or another that he cares for her but has refrained from using the word "love" as well. Generally speaking, he's pretty open about what he feels, so to her, it's telling that he has held off on using that one particular word. If there's some form of boundary there, she wants to act in accordance with it.
However, the entire reason they needed this phone call to hash things out is because she hadn't told him how she was feeling about seeing his band play at his mom's place. If she had, none of this would even be a concern. A little at a time, Marinette knows she has to work at becoming comfortable with saying what she feels, thinks or needs. And she's going to start right now. This conversation cannot close nor can this phone call end without deciding on something.
"Luka?"
"Yeah?"
"Look…I'm not sure what words are the right ones right now but…I have to say this, even if it comes out kind of awkwardly. Apparently, no one thought you deserved to hear it often up until now, so I'm gonna change that." Steadying her nerves, she takes a long breath in, holds the air for a few seconds and then exhales at length. Her neck is flushed. Her cheeks and ears burn. "I feel lucky I met you. It hasn't been that long, but I want you to know that I think you're an awesome boyfriend. You've been amazing and I appreciate you a-and…" It does convey her message, but it still doesn't feel strong enough. "I…care about you, so much."
She hears the way his breath hitches at these words and bites her lip, anticipating his reaction. Shifting in place on her couch, she feels a little irritation well up within as she takes in the degree of surprise in the man's reaction.
On impulse, Luka opens his mouth to respond, but no words make it past his lips. His lower jaw hangs open in surprise. He draws in a deep and somewhat trembling breath, feeling his heart rate ticking along much faster than his usual resting rate. After a couple seconds, he realizes he feels warm all over. Sitting up, he glances in the mirror hanging on his bedroom wall, finding that even in this darkness he can see how dark red the blush spread over his skin is. He's never been more thankful for the conversation taking place over the phone and not in person.
An uncharacteristically bashful smile turns his lips upward as he finally collects himself, finding enough composure to say something.
"I…I uhm…I mean…wow…" Running a hand through his hair, the young musician stutters his way through some form of response, ultimately unable to land on the right words to express gratitude. He understands very well the emotional turmoil it opens up for her to lay her thoughts out before him so plainly and honestly. It had to be incredibly nerve-wracking.
"W-was…th-that…" Throat suddenly dry at the startled sputtering that comes through the phone line, she too finds herself failing at making words. "Was that…too much?"
"No!" He jumps in immediately. "Hell no! I know that took some courage to say and thank you." He has had his doubts -especially in these last few days. "That was perfect. I always wonder if I'm doing the right thing, so it's a relief to hear you say exactly what you think…and it feels, really, really good. Honestly, If I were there and not on the phone, I probably could've kissed you just now…" The words had spilled out entirely unconsciously, but now that they've entered the equation, his shock at hearing them leave his lips has him trailing off into silence.
A little thrill runs through her hearing this. Those words had just flown out with no filter. Does this mean that on a subconscious level, the idea of intimacy doesn't frighten or repulse him? One can hope.
"Oh?" Her confidence is bolstered enough at his words that she finds herself launching directly into playfully teasing him for his apparent enthusiasm, rather than feeling embarrassed. "Funny, I seem to remember you caring a lot about having permission first…" grabbing the drawstring of her pajama bottoms, she twists it between her fingers, a devious smile playing on her features "and I don't remember saying it was okay."
"Uh…I…I'm sorry, I…don't know where that came from," Holy shit, he really said all that out loud. 'What the hell, brain?' He scolds himself internally, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose and massaging the area to relieve tension. "I wouldn't ever…without asking…" Feeling as though the amount of bumbling through this conversation is increasing by the second, he begins to trail off. The blue-haired woman on the other end of the phone line takes the opportunity to speak up.
"I know. I was just messing with you." She giggles through her own comment. "I didn't mean to stress you out." Another few seconds of silence pass before Marinette takes the initiative to end the conversation. If he's coming over for breakfast, they should both at least try to rest for a few hours. "It's getting late. I'll be eating in like…four hours…so, if you're going to come over…"
"Sure, I'll let you get some sleep. I'll see you then." It's only fair. He wants her time in the morning, so he can't keep her awake now.
"Yeah, see you."
Plugging in her phone and crawling into bed, she finds that sleep comes much easier than usual and ends up not being nearly so fitful -however few the number of hours of rest she will be getting might be.
After the briefest night's sleep, Marinette is rushing through getting ready when there is a knock on the front door. Dropping the hairdryer onto the bathroom counter, she scurries out of the room in such a rush, ending up taking her hairbrush with her. The toothbrush she'd been about to use she now holds between her teeth. Turning over the lock, she pulls open the door to let her company inside.
Their eyes meet for the shortest few seconds, each person flushing as they recall the emotional conversation from only a few hours prior. She can see his oceanic eyes flood with intent, watching as he shifts toward her before halting. Something even more raw and intense flashes in his eyes as he straightens up. A small smile ghosts over his features as he gazes down at her. Like that, whatever moment had been about to happen is lost. Her eyes fall away from his and she steps aside, ushering him in to the newly opened space.
"Wornin' wuka…" wanting to avoid making it awkward, the young woman rattles off a greeting though she's currently using her toothbrush and she reclaims the hairbrush she'd abandoned on the stand next to the door a moment ago before turning quickly to make a beeline back to the bathroom. "Awll onwy we a winute." She calls from inside the restroom.
"Mornin." He replies, still feeling some the heat lingering on his skin from that moment of pointed eye-contact. Mentally, he's still stuck on all the sweet words she'd given him earlier in the morning. Meeting her eyes was all it took to know that it's on her mind, too. And in that instant, as those sparkling bluebell eyes caught his, he'd very nearly caved completely in the face of his baser impulses. The desire was covert, simmering quietly from within until he'd seen that look in her eyes. Then, suddenly he'd been overwhelmed by the impulse to hold her.
Reminding himself he hadn't done anything untoward; he steadies his overactive nerves with a deep breath.
Waiting for his companion to return, he lingers by the door, holding in each hand some offerings he'd picked up on the way over. He had been about to ask if she'd ready to eat, but she'd disappeared into the bathroom too quickly to allow for the short question. She sure is in high spirits this morning for someone who had gotten so little rest. She's pretty much running circles around him energy-wise.
"You hungry?" His call echoes down the hallway as he hears water flowing from the tap. It's been a number of months since the last time he stayed up so late and, unlike her, he is absolutely drained. He'd barely been able to shower, brush his teeth and dress himself before he'd left to get the food and come here. After a moment or so, the water stops, a toothbrush clinking into the stand before the designer appears in the hallway once again.
Only now does Marinette notice her companion has brought some goodies with him. Her eyes hover over the bag of food quickly before landing and lingering on the coffee in his other hand. A smile brightens her features at least, which up until now had been obscured by hygiene practices.
"What'cha got there?" The strong scent of prepared, hot breakfast food wafts through the room, piquing her interest as she makes her way toward the man standing by her front door.
"Breakfast sandwiches, hash browns and coffee." He grins despite his fatigue, charmed her enthusiasm. "You said we wouldn't have a lot of time, so I grabbed something quick. That okay?"
The only reply she gives to this is to quickly gather plates and utensils before plopping herself down in a seat at the table in her kitchen. He hangs back by the entryway, just watching her continue to fly around like a well-rested person. He watches, stunned at the amount of energy she has to expend after a full day with Alya, staying on the phone with him until after two in the morning and then barely even resting.
"You can come sit down." Perplexed as to why he's still hovering near the door when they have so little time, she invites the man to join her in the kitchen.
"I'm shocked you're not more tired." Shaking off the surprise, he offers this small comment as he joins the blue-haired woman at the table, dividing up the food and coffee between the two of them.
"Oh, no, I'm exhausted, I'm just used to not sleeping much. Anxiety disorders, am I right?" With another small smile, she digs into her food eagerly.
He is slower to get started on his meal, his eyes stuck on the woman seated across from him. All the sweet things she'd said echo in his mind. He hasn't stopped thinking about them since the moment they entered his ear through the receiver.
"I feel lucky I met you."
"You're amazing and I appreciate you."
"I care about you, so much."
And perhaps the statement that stands out above all the others in his mind was one of his own.
"I probably could've kissed you."
He just had to go and say it. He just had to. Now its primarily what his mind wants to start focusing on. And unfortunately for him, the more he thinks about it, the more tempting it becomes to act upon. It's a bit confusing, to say the least. Desiring physical affection is a first in many years for the guitarist. Honestly, he doesn't know what to do with the feelings. A flush runs up along the back of his neck as she sets down her coffee, her eyes finally leaving the plate of remaining food before her to glance questioningly at him.
"Not hungry?" Her eyes trail between him and the plate in front of him, a considerable amount remaining on it compared to hers. Brought back to the present by this question, he quickly picks up and takes a bite of his breakfast sandwich.
"I am…sorry…" He knows he should be eating because they don't have much time, but his mind is keen on wandering. He'll chalk that up to a lack of sleep. "I'm not used to only sleeping a couple hours. I guess I'm just spacing out."
She nods. There's more to it, but he has his reasons not to state them. Absently, she wonders if maybe some part of his behavior is brought on by being distracted over thoughts of last night. She'd be dishonest to say that recalling the things they said to one another doesn't have her feeling a little extra jittery. But neither of them brings up the topic and they finish their meal in relative silence.
With all the recyclables and garbage separated into their proper receptacles, she sees her guest out and they walk together until they reach her car.
"Well, I guess that's it…" The woman trails off, fiddling with her keys.
"I guess…" His tone is darkened by disappointment.
Hearing this, her gaze rises, lifting to meet his. She is met with an unwavering alpine gaze and a fiercely determined expression.
"Marinette…before you go…"
"Yes?"
"About last night…I wanted to say…" Ugh, why is this so hard to say? He's brimming with gratitude and affection for her. He wants to show it. She's never said he couldn't before. Why be so nervous only now? "I want you to know how happy everything you said last night made me."
"You told me already." 'Multiple times, actually.' Though she's thinking it, she chooses to leave that part out.
"Right." It may make him a broken record, but saying thanks only once doesn't feel like enough.
"Is that it?" Seems like things are wrapped up in a pretty bow from where she stands.
"No." He apparently disagrees.
"So then…what else-" What does he feel hasn't been addressed yet?
"Look, this is pretty strange for me. I haven't wanted to be physically affectionate or intimate in a long time. Until this relationship, I thought I probably never would. But…after what I said last night, I can't get the idea out of my head. It wasn't hyperbole...I think I just want to kiss you." It's more than just a little awkward. This isn't normally something a person just announces, but an explanation was required. What else could he do?
Her eyes widen as they hold his gaze, something serious flickering within them. Her lips part, a soft gasp of surprise making its way out. She must admit she's been thinking about that comment over and over since their phone call. She'd already imagined it more than once but dismissed all the mental images as wishful thinking. Saying he could kiss her while in an emotional state and being able to act on the desire are two very different things.
"Are…are you sure you're really okay with it?" Even as she asks this question, she is stepping closer. Her heart is bounding in her chest at a mile a minute.
"I think so." A nervous and shaky breath tumbles from him as his eyes follow her movements.
"Luka, this time it has to be either 'yes' or 'no.' It wouldn't be right if you're not sure."
As he looks into those deep periwinkle eyes, he spies the hints of protectiveness swirling amongst the enthusiasm and desire. She may want this, but still practices consideration for his touch aversion. But there's more to it that just that. She wants to ensure she has his consent before anything happens. His enthusiastic participation matters to her, and she believes she would be acting against her own conscience to proceed without having it.
This realization touches him deeply and before can contemplate his feelings any further, he's acting.
"I'm sorry, I need this…" His voice trails off as his arms wrap tightly around the woman. Leaning down into the hug, he buries his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling the skin as the need for affection completely overwhelms him. An equally needy sigh escapes him as he holds this person who has quickly become so incredibly precious to him. He feels her shift within his grasp and his arms tighten down, only embracing her small body more tightly. "I know I didn't ask…"
"Don't apologize." Her muffled voice can be heard as she somehow manages a reply while pressed into his chest. Her arms come up to rest on his back, pressing down into the fabric of his shirt before clutching fistfuls of the clothing. Snuggling in closer against the front of his body, her arms tighten in place around his upper back. This is so warm, so nice and she can't help but want to show him more tenderness. Hesitating for only a millisecond, she nuzzles against his chest, feeling his heart beating against it from the inside.
A shudder runs through his body at the small but incredibly intimate behavior she displays. Within seconds, he is pushing the woman back and out of the mutual display of affection to get a look at her face. Her bluebell eyes remain averted, but he can see the happiness shimmering in that gaze. Her lips curve up into a bashful smile as she pulls one hand away from the man to push a mussed lock of hair out of her face. Everything about her broadcasts her enjoyment of their closeness. All at once, he knows what the answer to her yes or no proposition is. It's an unequivocal yes.
Finally lifting to catch his own, those bluebell eyes search for the resolution he's already settled upon.
The very moment he's about to request permission, the cellphone in her back pocket starts going off. Both people sigh heavily in unison. After a second or two he backs away, shoving his hands into his pockets, his expression a rather disgruntled pout.
"It's probably your dad. You should take it." He puts forth some combination of words, mostly in an effort to not sound as disappointed as he feels.
Picking up the call, it's her father asking if she's going to be late and after a quick conversation to reassure him that she's on her way right now, the call is ended. Glancing apologetically at her boyfriend, who appears understandably irritable, her hope that a romantic moment between them might happen now is dwindling rapidly. It appears the moment has passed. Such a shame.
"Well, I gotta go now." Aware of the pout that dampens her expression, she pushes through her own resistance to leaving. Her parents need her to be there for them. She slowly opens the door, preparing to climb down into the driver's seat.
As this is happening, he reaches out, his arm landing on the top of the vehicle just behind the driver's side door. Not yet. Just five more seconds. That's all he needs to make his feelings clear. She blinks once, startled, then turns to glance up at him.
"I know it's time for you to go but I'll just say one thing real quick. The answer was yes." Backing off, the musician gives her a one more slightly rueful smile before stepping away and walking in the direction of his own car. It takes a considerable amount of his willpower to leave her in this moment, willpower he's sure would crumble were he to turn and steal even a cursory glance in her direction. With each step, he reminds himself not to.
Left completely speechless by his admission, for a moment she is frozen in place next to her car, only able to watch his back as he moves away. He was really okay with it. He wanted to. Disappointment that they had been interrupted doesn't even cross her mind. Her unbridled joy, elation and excitement over this development leave little room for anything else. It's enough just to know that it isn't impossible for him to want intimacy.
She climbs down into her own vehicle, unable to stop the rush of feel-good chemicals flooding her brain from that one small comment. It's much easier to see how healthy relationships can be built on communication when you're not afraid of the reaction to your honesty. As she drives to her parents place, she finds herself happily humming along with a song on the radio, feeling lighter than she has in some time.