Well...it's really been a long time this time around hasn't it? What can I say...I don't think anyone made it through 2020 unscathed and I'm NOT an exception. Many things happened not just in the world but in my life too. Somehow, I made it to the other side and here I am with more content after more than a year of absense. The long wait has been pretty inconvenient for anyone who has been following this collection from the start, so I apologize for that. At this time, there is one other active writing project I am working on for this series and I have a few ideas in mind for other things I might like to do. Please stay tuned if you're interested (and patient.)This is a *Lukanette* series, always has been and always will be. As always- Please enjoy if you're into it and please select something else you'll enjoy instead if you aren't. Without further delay, this is "I Can't Tell You Why." Story is based off a song By The Eagles. Please enjoy.
Like any other interaction the two have had, this one was as fleeting as it was bittersweet. The rush he felt when their hands brushed against one another as he slipped a ticket to his band's upcoming show into her palm was akin to a powerful electric current. If he knew what feeling being struck by lightning produced, he'd swear this was that feeling's twin. When had such a small thing become enough to leave him mentally reeling? It was exhilarating and somehow frightening at the same time.
Though the small slip of paper reading "admit one" was more of a formality for this kind of open-air, summer festival type event, he still wanted something tangible in her hands to connect them. It was physical proof that he had left an open invitation on the table for her to act upon should she choose. Her widened blue-bell orbs connected with his cool pools of ultramarine. A smile ghosted over his roguish features as he held her gaze. The simple upward curve of his lips combined an air of playfulness, genuine enjoyment and small hints of flirtation he'd swear up and down was force of habit.
His hand fell away from hers, leaving behind the paper in her grasp.
"I hope I'll see you there," He whispered in an intentionally husky tone that instantly caused a rosy blush to bloom across her cheeks. Not waiting for a reply, he turned, giving a languid wave over his shoulder. The rush of nerves as result of both their impromptu meeting and the adrenaline rush at working up the courage to invite her was more than just a bit overwhelming. His feet moved more swiftly -almost as though responding directly to his quickened pulse- as he hurried to catch up with the bandmates waiting for him down the block.
The sun hangs low in the Parisian sky on a June evening as his band readies itself for the show. As throngs of people pass them by, filing through the crowded pathway created by the rows of stalls and games, their group quietly sets up the instruments and equipment. The smell of cooking food wafts temptingly in the air. Bells, chimes, music and the laugher and idle chatter of the groups of people make the space feel full. Every outward appearance gives off the feel of a happy and festive atmosphere.
As he goes about his tasks, however, a certain guitarist's anxiety is rising and this time he doesn't know quite how to quell it. This is a special performance, after all. Once the final sound checks are preformed and they have had the chance to do a final rehearsal, the host announces them. Just like that, they begin with the first in the line up of their songs for the evening.
As the faces of strangers fill the space around the front of the stage, the absence of one face in particular helps to shift his anxiety into unwanted disappointment. Really, this is an unfair attitude for him to have. It was an invitation, not a command. She is an autonomous human with a will and a life of her own and probably has other things to do. It's not like he stuck around after inviting her to find out. Additionally, he does not consider himself to be the kind of person to force someone's hand through guilt or other means. The bottom line is even the very idea of her attendance being compulsory is detestable. He could never be satisfied or happy with making an obligation out of a relationship.
Reminding himself of the facts does nothing to alleviate his irritation or improve his worsening attitude. The anticipation of maybe seeing her out in the audience, enjoying the music he helps to create had gotten his hopes too high. Somehow, the fanciful thinking turned into expectations -though he hadn't meant it to happen. Childish though it may be, her approval and praise mean a lot to him. Having her here matters more than he would like to admit. He just…can't help but want her to see this side of him. The side that showcases all his good points. His skill level with musical instruments, his dedication to his dream, the hard work he puts in to cultivate his talent and grow as an artist. Ultimately, to have her look at him -only him- and hopefully, appreciate him for who he is.
Perhaps, at the end of the day, this is all just an exercise in futility. No one can forcibly make someone else fall in love with them, after all. Luka knows well that he is no exception to this rule. There have been times when it seemed easier to just give up and even times when that was what he thought he resolved himself to do. Any action that would hinder her chances of finding happiness -even in the case that that happiness is found in another- is something that simply ought not be done. Despite this knowledge, a fierce longing combined with a tiny, lingering hope propels him onward. There is not a person alive that could love someone like this and not hope for and strive for the reality of that feeling being reciprocated. Difficult as it may be to come to accept, the truth is unassailable- he wants her. He just...wants her. Desperately.
Time marches on without any sign of the young fashion designer showing up. As does the show. Luka's mind continues to wander, his muscle memory -tuned to perfection through years of diligent practice- takes over for him. The sun dips slowly below the horizon and the spotlights automatically come on, the harsh synthetic lights seemingly illuminating the mounting disappointment and loneliness he's trying to dismiss.
After two or three more songs, the group heads backstage during a brief interlude in the show to rest and get some refreshments. Though he engages in some banter and light conversation with his bandmates, Luka's unpleasant feelings seem amplified now that his song cover is next on the program. He wanted -still wants- her to hear him sing this. This was a chance to speak to her, tell her -to some degree- what is on his mind. A chance to feel heard. A chance that might be wasted.
Juleka gives him a five minute warning as he takes a few long sips from a water bottle.
It is so difficult to get himself to be in a good frame of mind for this performance. The more he thinks about it, the more hopeless the situation he's in seems. Reality isn't always kind. Romance is hard. Feelings are complex and at times uncontrollable. Just as his feelings for her continue to grow, she has been wrestling with her own feelings for someone else. Even though by all accounts, this other person had long ago begun a happy relationship with someone else, it seems she's never truly been able to move on. And though he'd certainly felt his fair share of jealousy over her hopeless devotion to this one person, it's not exactly like he has any right to tell her to move on. He's no different -as completely hung up on her as he is.
He is given a two minute warning. Drawing in a deep breath, he attempts to calm the the thoughts swirling around in his mind.
'Focus, Luka. This is about the performance now, not your feelings. Sideline your agenda and get your work done. There will be other opportunities.'
Getting to his feet and grabbing the acoustic guitar he'd brought for this portion of the show, he slings the strap over his shoulder and steps back onto the stage, waiting for the announcer to finish the introduction of the next segment. The background noise from the surrounding festivities fills his ears, sounding almost louder than any time during the day as the young man attempts to re-focus himself.
The announcer wraps up and he is called out onto the stage. With a final deep breath to steady himself, he steps out into the area visible to the crowd and heads toward center-stage to where the wooden stool is set out. He'd been fitted with a small microphone prior to the start of the show.
"Hey again, guys. Everyone hearing me okay?" Though he can clearly hear the sound of his voice through the speakers, he still checks in with the small crowd gathered around their stage. Noting that several people are nodding and several more call out a 'yes', he continues. "Thanks for stopping by to listen, the rest of Kitty Section and I appreciate it. I know you are all used to Rose's voice now, but do you think you could do me a favor and put up with mine, for just this song?" A few smiles break out on the faces of the small audience and some people nod once again. "Awesome. Since you're willing spare me your time, I want you guys to know this won't be like our typical sound. It's not a Kitty Section original, but a cover..." Trailing off for effect, his eyes scan the crowd, hanging on to a futile hope he is mistaken about her absence.
As he searches the crowd of people off to his left, his eyes catch sight of unusual movement in the open space between the rows of entertainment and food. Shifting his gaze ever so slightly, what he catches sight of nearly makes him loose his balance and slide off the stool. His breath hitches and he just barely contains the compulsion to do a double take. In a full sprint, Marinette is making her way quickly through the thin string of other fair goers and toward the stage. After a few bouts of clumsiness that almost end up causing a fall, she finally comes to a stop near the back of the crowd, bending over and resting her hands on her knees, panting heavily. Surprise consumes him for another few seconds until he once again becomes aware of the fact that he's on a live stage.
Here he was thinking he'd have to make some changes to this speech, but it looks like he'll get to say it after all. The small smile that brightens his expression is unstoppable as he straightens up and continues.
"For this part of the show, I'm taking over vocals for a personal reason. I've been told I make more sense when I'm playing an instrument and so, I thought this would be the best way to make my thoughts clear to a person in the audience tonight. This person -I don't think has realized how much they mean to me. I hope that they will be open to hearing what I'm thinking," His eyes again shift through the crowd to where the person in question is standing, lining up with hers for a short few seconds as she finally appears to steady herself after her mad sprint, "Just listen to these things I have to say. That's all I need. If there's a time they want to tell me their thoughts, I'm always ready to listen. No matter what, I want them to do what will make them happiest. Out of respect for their privacy, I won't say anything more specific. I hope you all enjoy. The song I'll be covering is titled 'I Can't Tell You Why,' written and performed originally by The Eagles."
He leads in with the acoustic guitar, followed a beat later by Ivan's drums and Juleka's bass. Their harmonization is as close to perfect as it can be, beat for beat. Exactly as he'd hoped for it to go during months of practice.
As time ticks by, and the instrumental segment draws closer to the twenty-two second mark when the lyrics begin, suddenly he feels himself begin to tense.
It's strange -almost foreign even- to feel a swell of nervous energy rise up inside his chest. What a surprise. It's been so long since the last time an experience like this came up in a live performance. Though, realistically, this is his first time doing the vocals in one of his own shows. His first time in front of a live crowd.
And also...
His eyes search out the same blue bell orbs from only a moment ago. Their gazes align like a set of magnets. He feels the flush rush along the back of his neck before it sweeps over his ears and across his face at the intensity in her expression. He can feel the heat of that gaze even at this distance. In this moment, her attention is definitively directed on him and his insides all but turn to jelly. It's not only that expression on her face that gets him, but another sudden stark realization that breaks upon him like rolling surf crashing along the shore.
This is the first time in all his life he's sung with the intention of speaking directly to someone he cares about.
Singing to that person with the purpose of revealing the depth of his feelings.
Those thoughts are both sobering and exciting.
No time remains to dwell on the emotion swelling from within. Each and every second of instrumental introduction is behind them and they've hit twenty-two seconds. The lyrics begin, forcing him to channel all the mounting, muddled and confusing feelings into the words that pass over his lips. Though to his ear his voice is still the same clear and practiced tenor it has always been, there is a certain gravelly lilt present in it today that hasn't been there before. The emotion colors the lines and verses as he presses on, not missing a single note.
He can't bring himself to break eye contact as his performance continues, not once. Right now, singing this song is a rather cathartic experience for him. It is like a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders -each time he finishes a line, the pressure lifts away a little more. All his thoughts and feelings can flow freely into the world from inside his very bogged down mind and the relief it provides is incredible. For her though, it's really anybody's guess what hearing these things makes her feel. All he can do to try and understand is hope he reads her reactions right, given that he is not in a position to ask her. The woman before him doesn't appear to be angry, though it's clear she's experiencing her own surge of emotions. He counts himself lucky that she has even shown up for this show. Being present and allowing her vulnerability to show in front of him is something he will treasure for a long time.
As he hits the lines expressing loneliness, encouragement and finally love, he sees her cover her mouth, head bowing slightly as her brow knots tightly in a way that makes it obvious she is feeling a bit overwhelmed. Two minutes in, there is another instrumental segment before the final verse.
The song closes and he gets to his feet as the majority of the crowd begins to applaud, a few whistle and someone even calls out an "encore!" His eyes don't stray from Marinette as he offers a bow in return for the praise. She has broken eye contact with him, but he can't look away now for an entirely different reason. She's crying -and not a simple tear rolling down the cheek or welling up in her eyes, either- it's more accurately described as sobbing. Really sobbing. Her shoulders shake and she wipes away tears as she steps back from the crowd only slightly to give herself space.
Guilt and bitterness instantly course through him at the sight of her grief, intense and all-consuming, scorching him from the inside like a wildfire.
Outwardly, his expression doesn't change in front of the other listeners. He forces a smile and waves, thanking the crowd as Ivan and Juleka step into place beside him, doing the same. He excuses himself and the rest of the band as politely as he'd offered the crowd his humble speech. Asking for a few minutes to ready themselves for the few remaining songs in the program, the other group members turn and head toward the backstage area. He remains entirely professional as he steps back from the stool and is the last to exit the stage.
Once out of view and informed that his mic is off, he can no longer contain the fury and frustration he feels toward both himself and the situation he put himself in. It boils over like a pot left unattended too long on a hot stove. Gritting his teeth, his hand grips the strap of his guitar until his knuckles turn white and he can feel his nails through the thick fabric. His only goal had been to have her attention for a few minutes to tell her what he has been thinking. It was supposed to stand in for offering his view point in a normal conversation. At the end of the day, that was all he set out to accomplish.
But...He'd never intended for this to hurt her. If he weren't currently in the middle of a show, he would have jumped from the stage, gone to her and apologized before telling her to forget the whole thing. He still has half a mind to do exactly that -and on top of it, anything else required to make things right.
"Dammit!" The curse he spits out is by no means a whisper, yet still is only loud enough to attract the attention of his sister, Juleka, who is sitting in a folding chair nearby.
"Luka? Is everything okay?" When he hears her questioning him, his eyes shift quickly toward her and up from the spot on the ground he's been staring daggers at. "You don't get this way-"
"No! This isn't okay! Alright?! It's not...it's so damn messed up!" Still bursting with frustration at what just transpired, he has trouble controlling his biting tone.
Looking a bit stung, Juleka shifts uncomfortably in her seat, falling silent.
"You didn't mess up," Rose adds her opinion, trying to be helpful, while completely misinterpreting his words, "I thought your vocals were perfect. Your voice is great and you weren't off key once-"
"This isn't about the gig!" This time, when he sees the concerned and shocked expressions, he takes a deep breath, attempting to reign the anger in a little.
"S-sorry. I'm not upset about my vocals or at you guys..." He trails off for a moment, so utterly livid that the ability to make words vanishes for a moment, and when he does continue, his voice cracks, "...Mare-Marinette was out there tonight, and...that song was me trying to talk to her about...things..." As he explains, he sees the realization begin to show in their eyes. "I should have been more considerate instead of only focusing on what I wanted. Putting my own thoughts out there only made her cry. I made her cry. I'm just...so angry at myself."
His eyes move downward when he sees the emotion in their eyes shift from understanding to compassion, the guilt and shame too intense to allow him to accept that look of empathy they wear. However, even as he turns away, his sister and her girlfriend both move into a place on either side of him, each woman wrapping him in a gentle, comforting embrace. A second later, he feels Ivan's large hand fall onto his shoulder, applying a light pressure to the area in his own display of encouragement and comradery. No one speaks or attempts to reassure him in any other way, the group simply remains as they are, sharing a gentle, familial warmth until the stage hand interrupts with a five minute warning.
Heading back out onto the stage on cue, Luka is surprised to find Marinette still among the audience. He's also stunned to see that she's managed to stop her tears and actually now seems almost normal. Nonetheless, shame prevents him from making any attempt at eye contact for the remaining three songs. Guilt continues to eat away at him, though less sharp and with lessened intensity compared to what he'd been feeling backstage.
After the final song and the crowd has begun to clear, he is the first to silently exit the stage and sets about gathering his instruments without any more words. Juleka, Ivan and Rose follow, and though each casts a worried glance in his direction, they give him space to work through things on his own. Out of respect for his state of upset, they all quietly set about packing up as well.
After a few minutes wading through the thick tension in the air while going about packing up, a commotion from up on the stage distracts all members of Kitty Section.
"Wait! You don't have permission to go back there!" The stage hand argues with someone on the other side of the curtains.
"Sir, my friends are in that group," It is Marinette's voice that responds to the frazzled fair employee, causing all eyes to turn toward the stage in surprise, "and I need to talk to one of them."
"I'm sure they are," The man snaps back in a facetious tone extending his arm to block her access point, "You still can't go back there."
While initially stunned and a little happy that she is even still making an attempt to come and see him, he can't bring himself to go over there and get involved. His eyes shift away from the source of the argument. He is unable to move, as if the guilt and shame are a blast of artic air, freezing him in place. Trying to explain what he wanted to do will likely just sound like making excuses. He's knows avoiding her is cowardly, but it may be the best move to make. Further jeopardizing any possibility at a future relationship with her terrifies him. It's choosing to act on his impulses that has him in this unwelcome situation right now. Why risk doing more damage?
Without any warning, a pair of hands fall onto each of his shoulder blades and he is shoved roughly toward the back of the stage.
Turning to stare at Juleka, who'd been the one doing the shoving, he is met with an unexpectedly irritable expression.
"Go talk to her. Maybe she's not even as upset as you think she is, since she's still here and wants to talk. Even if she is angry, then she deserves the chance to chew you out." These comments, true though they may be, contain far more spice than he's used to hearing from his sister. For a second or two, all he can do is stare at the woman, at a loss for what to do or say.
Leaving her sass aside, she is right. He knows it.
On the other hand, he still has work to do here. Instruments and equipment need to be loaded into the car and then taken back to the studio to be put away. After that, they will need to make stops at each home to drop off the band members.
"Don't even think of using helping us as an excuse to get out of talking to her." Her tone is an even mixture of serious and playful. "We'll finish up here, I'll take them home and then I'll come back to pick you up. Just text me."
Finally, a smile breaks through his somber expression. He thanks her, before heading in the direction of the stage.
"I don't even need to go back there. Just tell Luka that Marinette is here and wants to talk. That's fine!" She pleads, expression equal parts frustrated and desperate.
"I've said it a dozen times, the answer is still no! Now take a hike." The stage hand snaps angrily, his hand stretching out as if the need to shove her to make a point is an acceptable means of intervention.
Reminding himself to thank Juleka again later for giving him the literal push he needed to get to them in time, the young man steps into place in between the angry worker and Marinette. The hand that would have collided with her connects instead with his upper arm lightly before being instantaneously retracted. Now acting as a physical barrier, he locks eyes with the startled fair employee. Even from behind him, Marinette's own astonished gaze is practically physically palpable. That befuddled gaze is boring holes in his back.
"I'm glad you're doing your job well, but there's no need to get violent with her." His tone is even and his posture relaxed, but he still feels himself bristle at the thought of this guy doing her any amount of harm. "So I'd appreciate it if you didn't act threatening toward my friend."
"Sorry man. I thought she was just some crazed fan. I didn't realize she was someone you know." The man makes no further attempt to argue with Luka and turns away, setting about his other tasks. If he'd had been insolent and argumentative, Luka would have had many more words for him. Fortunately, it looks like they can move on without any further interference from this stranger. Still though, having run the guy off isn't exactly without it's own complications.
It takes everything he has in him to turn to her and smile like he's not a complete mess on the inside. An awkward pause follows as neither of the two parties present can find a way to articulate their thoughts. He makes a conscious effort not to fidget as his nerves from when he'd been singing to her begin to resurface. This wasn't an outcome he had envisioned when he had been helplessly watching her weep from up on stage earlier. Being in this unexpected scenario with her leaves him at quite a loss for what to do or even say next. And, upon closer examination, that appears to be a mutual feeling. He sees her mouth open and close once, as if she had wanted to say something and then couldn't bring herself to or changed her mind. Her fingers press together in the same nervous habit she's had for a long time before she finally inhales at length and lets it all back out in a long sigh.
"Do you...want to go and ride the Ferris Wheel?" Marinette breaks the silence with a query seemingly straight out of left field. At least, that's his first impulsive thought about it, until he realizes it may be her best attempt to invite discourse with as little awkwardness as possible. Seeing as for the moment Luka still can't seem to find the words he wants, he simply nods and then follows her down off the stage. Side by side, they head through the fairgrounds without another word spoken between them and within just moments the awkwardness of the situation is too much to withstand. Turning toward one another in unison, both young people seem to get struck by a wave of motivation simultaneously.
"I need to talk to you."
"I need to talk to you."
The statement comes tumbling out of both people, somehow a word-for-word match.
A second of mutual surprise. Then, two amused and sheepish grins take over their expressions.
"You can tell me whatever you need to, anytime. I'll always listen." He does his best to sound calm and reassure her, despite feeling nothing but turmoil.
By the time they've hit this point in the conversation, they are both standing before the ride entrance. Luka is able to use his performer ID to get himself and Marinette on board without tickets and they both walk up the ramp and climb into their seats, now opposite each other in the gondola. The ride operator shuts the door behind them and goes to move the wheel just enough so the next seat in line can be boarded by passengers.
Filled to the brim with anxious energy, he puts forth his best effort to be patient and wait for her to speak. But as the wheel slowly turns, taking them further and further up into the air, the wait seems to extend for an eternity. They have been through so many ups and downs since their first meeting. She had been in love with someone else when he fell for her. After finally getting to the point where she moved past that obsession, they began dating. Then there was the mutual break up when they both felt she needed more time to sort her feelings out. Now, here they are tonight, sitting alone together in a small seat on this maritime fair ride after he'd basically poured his heart out to her on a live stage. And thinking of that calls to mind that heart-wrenching memory of her standing amidst a throng of strangers, her small body trembling with grief as she cried.
Suddenly, he can't be patient any longer.
Two pairs of blue eyes line up, both sets equally full of determination and they once again speak up at the same moment.
"I'm sorry!" Almost as if by magic, the same set of words are once again spoken by two people. In the same way it happened during their walk.
Two uncertain gazes remain in alignment.
"What?" Luka is the first to be able to break himself free of the shock at the apology and question it. It's not as though he has never felt hurt by her. When you care about someone or something enough, that tends to happen. Tonight, however, he watched as she became distraught at something he had done. Naturally, the utterance of an apology at the same moment as his is still a bit surprising regardless. "Why?"
"What about you?" Marinette's query comes out in a breathless whisper.
The confusion in her expression matches the disbelief in her tone and the combination of both renders him speechless for several seconds. Once the surprise wears off, the first thought to cross his mind is that he needs to hear what she has to say. He got his chance to air his thoughts once already, so the other things he wants to say can wait. It has to be right away. He needs to know.
"I can wait. I really want to hear what you're thinking first. If you want to, please, go ahead." He smiles softly at the girl seated opposite him, shifting in his own seat as his curiosity begins to make him antsy.
After a long sigh to help steady some obviously jangled nerves, his designer friend opens her mouth to speak at last.
"W-well first, I...wanted to be on time tonight. But then I had to help at the bakery when one of the ovens broke and lots of stuff happened after that..." Her words come tumbling out faster by the second, anxiety clearly getting the better of her.
"Marinette," He interjects in a matter-of-fact tone when she trails off, and her eyes timidly rise to line up with his again, "that's fine. It was an invitation. I invited you because I wanted you to see the show, but I wouldn't force you. You aren't obligated to be here just because I ask, so you don't need to be sorry. Okay?"
Looking somewhat relieved, she nods once in response.
"Okay, but I...I planned to be here to see the whole show. That is...what I wanted to do." Her smile is tinged with hints of regret as she quietly mumbles a clarification.
His heart soars. If those couple sentences could add years to his life, he would live on for thousands upon thousands. It is one of the things he has been desperately attempting to attain. Even if it's not everything he wants, he is ready to take anything she is willing to give.
"I'm happy to hear that," At his quiet yet heartfelt reply, her eyes widen, shining with an emotion not dissimilar to the one slowly building back up in his chest, "more than you might realize. But...I'm guessing there's more you wanna say?"
"Yeah..." Those blue bell eyes seem to darken a shade or two as she redirects her gaze briefly toward her feet. It takes a moment for her to go on as she seems to be considering her next words carefully and in that time he quietly observes the changes in her expression. In a flash, a number of strong emotions ghost over her features before ultimately it lands somewhere between between guilt and anger. But over what? And at whom? Before any words leave her lips, she is once again making eye contact. "I have been hurting you for a long time. I made a mistake trying to go out with you when my feelings were still so...all over the place. Since the beginning...I made you feel l-like the second choice, the substitute, the back up pl-plan..." By the time she makes it to these words, her voice is strangled with the effort of holding in more tears.
The guitarist must reign in his impulse to console her as he watches the way she fights her mounting sadness. As much as he wants to be there for her, he also agrees with the truth of these statements she's making. She had hurt him. He's still hurting. Singing that song tonight had been an attempt to voice those feelings of pain, along with his sincere love for her and his hopes. He has to let her finish so they can move forward.
"I want you to know how very sorry I am...for everything. Y-you deserved better. You deserved to...be shown I cared about you as much as you always showed me you cared about me. I...didn't do that and I'm just...I just can't...I am really just...so sorry. So, so, so sorry..." Her voice once again strained with the effort of holding back the sobs enough to get the words out, she must stop speaking. While Marinette attempts to calm herself, the slow rotation of the wheel continues. A gentle breeze plays with her hair as she wipes her eyes and clears her throat, struggling for control of her voice against her sadness. Biting down on his lower lip as the impulse to offer comfort becomes more difficult to suppress, the musician continues to take in her tearful admissions without adding his thoughts.
"I can't make any of it okay," Steadying herself with a deep and trembling breath, she is at last ready to continue, "still...I couldn't keep doing nothing."
When their eyes connect again, it is clear she has said what she feels she must to begin to repair their relationship. With her apology and her acknowledgement of harm done, he now feels the time is right to offer his own thoughts.
"Thanks Marinette. Things have been hard and I can't say I don't still feel hurt...but I don't like to hold on to things like that for a long time. I...already forgave you." Smiling gently at her, he sees the dread in her features begin to melt away, bit by bit. She even begins to crack a small smile in response. Straightening into a more upright position, the smile fades from his own lips as the image of her crying pushes aside all other thoughts in his mind once more. He knows what he has to say next.
"What is it, Luka?" Her quiet query keeps him from focusing too intently on the troubling memory.
"It's not like I haven't hurt you too, though." Boy, does that ever sting to admit. "I'm really sorry about tonight Marinette. I just did whatever I wanted. I wanted you to hear my feelings -to tell you everything I had bottled up. I wanted you to know you can still count on me. But I didn't think my approach through well at all. I didn't stop and think about how you might feel. It was insensitive and selfish. I didn't set out to hurt you, but I...am still so angry at myself for making you cry."
With the words he needs to say out of the way, he now refocuses on her, ready to accept whatever she has to respond with. If she cries, he'll console her. If she wants to chew him out, he'll take it in stride.
But neither of those things happen.
He is instead completely taken aback at the look of utter astonishment dominating her features as she stares at him in silence.
The gondola shifts and creaks, the noises filling the seconds of silence as the Farris wheel continues to wind around.
"Wh-what?" Her tone of voice sounds as genuinely baffled as the expression on her face looks. Shifting slightly, she leans toward him, suddenly appearing curious as well. "Luka...what do you think I was crying for?"
"Well...uh...I'm not exactly sure what your reason was...but...I thought maybe me airing that kind of thing in front of an audience may have been embarrassing. Or maybe you felt like I was trying to put pressure on you." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he impatiently awaits whatever reaction she has to those thoughts.
"And were you? Were you trying to pressure me or embarrass me?" Though the tone is rhetorical, she still pauses to give him a chance to reply.
"No!" The denial is swift and sharp, his voice cracking as he rushes to confirm neither of those were his motivations here. "I wouldn't ever do something like that."
A tender and reassuring smile tugs the corners of her mouth upward as a faint shade of pink lights up her cheeks. The admiration and respect that sparkles in her blue bell eyes is stealing his breath away as she nods with confidence.
"I know." The simple pair of words pass over her lips without so much as a tinge of doubt to them. Clasping her hands together on top of her lap, the woman presses on. "You have amazing character. I already know you're not the kind of person who would do either of those things."
His designer friend sure is full of surprising revelations tonight. With his concerns now addressed and resolved, he is left with a single question he needs an answer to. If she hadn't felt hurt, embarrassed or manipulated, then what reason could there be to cry like that? "So then...why?"
Her features fall again at this question, her lips pressing together and her brow knotting with a combination of anger and strife.
"I wanted to hear you guys play tonight and support you and I knew I needed to say I'm sorry, but the real reason I came was to talk to you." Her voice trails off, her hesitant and conflicted eyes almost appearing to beg him for permission to continue. Unwilling to interrupt, the young man only nods encouragingly, indicating she need not request permission to tell him the answer to a question he asked. His heart pounds in his chest as the reality of what she wants to discuss settles in. "Is it okay with you if we talk about...this?" Gesturing back and forth between them when the proper wording escapes her, she waits, her fingers fumbling with the fabric of her shirt as anxiety begins to get the better of her.
"Sure," Honestly still beside himself with amazement that this is even happening, Luka's words tumble out clumsily. He leans in slightly to allow for better audibility, "tell me whatever you need to say, ask whatever you want. I'll do my best to listen and answer you."
"It took time to see that breaking up was the right thing to do. I could try to understand things and take my time with it." Her explanation is shaky and uncertain at first, but her words slowly begin to sound more self-assured as she continues. Luka watches the way her blue eyes narrow in concentration as she again chooses her words carefully. He makes a mental note of the nervous fidgeting of her small fingers and the way her foot taps anxiously on the floor of the gondola. "I thought about Adrien. What made me come to feel so strongly about Adrien? Why was it I was so hung up on him? What did I like about him as a person? Did I really like him or did I like an ideal version of him I made up in my head? Answering those honestly wasn't easy. So I tried...asking myself the same questions about you and answering those was so easy. That made things obvious, but I was still afraid of making a wrong move and hurting you again. Then I ran into you that day you invited me here and it suddenly all seemed to click. Realizing what you meant to me was crazy powerful...it was kinda like getting struck by lightening..."
Every single thing about him right now broadcasts complete bewilderment -wide eyes, racing heart, slack jaw. There's no other reaction one could have to such an admission after everything that has transpired. He'd never seen it coming. With her feeling so conflicted and needing space for such a long period of time, Luka had little confidence they would ever be able to make progress with a romantic relationship. Despite being hopelessly in love with her, the musician had already let go of his previous expectations. Up until this moment, it would have been enough for him to simply be on friendly terms with the woman once they'd both had time to heal. Now, here she sits in this gondola before him, more-or-less practically admitting to having some serious, real feelings for him. Using the very words to describe what she's come to realize that go through his mind each time they interact, no less. 'Struck by lightening.' How does one begin to respond to a connection this profoundly deep and enduring?
"I didn't think this would go well until I heard you sing that song tonight. You weren't making excuses for me or telling me I haven't done things wrong. But you were saying you care about me even though it's been so hard on you...and all I could th-think w-was..." When her voice trembles with emotion this time, he can not restrain himself any longer. The gondola rocks as he quickly moves into place beside her, wrapping his arms around the woman's small frame in a tender embrace. Her arms also encircle his chest, unleashing a colony of butterflies in his stomach. After a lengthy inhale and a shaky exhale, the bluenette is able to continue. "This man is incredible and deserves everything. If he wanted me, I'd give him that."
The reason she cried is because he had been able to reach her. 'Wow...' What an epiphany that just hit him. 'This is real.' A surge of affection overwhelms the young musician and he bites down on his lip, squeezing the woman in his arms more tightly. He feels her melting into him, her small hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as she squeezes his body in return. A breeze toys with their hair and clothing as they remain locked in their embrace. The sounds of the festival have long since faded into the background. The darkness of the night combined with the small size of the space they share creates the illusion of being the only two people in the world. This long-awaited and at times seemingly impossible moment has arrived. It is one which both Marinette and Luka are finding themselves becoming swept up and completely lost within the enchantment of.
It's surreal. So surreal he feels compelled to double check the very nature of reality.
Backing away just enough to be in a good position to meet her gaze, he waits for her to look up. Her sky blue eyes tentatively meet his. His breath hitches at the seriousness in the earnest gaze reflected up at him. There is obvious self-doubt still present, but the relief and the contentment that result from her honesty begin to overshadow that pervasive meekness she's always held somewhere deep in her heart. It feels like sheer luck he's present to witness her discarding a good portion of her doubt about their relationship in real time. It's a beautiful thing to see.
But his own intuition is not enough. He needs to hear from her that what he thinks she means and what she actually means are one in the same.
He opens his mouth to speak and...
"Alright you two, break it up!" Comes the irritated voice of the ride operator.
The spell that had been cast over them now shattered, both flustered young people jump apart and turn to glance apologetically up at the obviously annoyed older woman. The look she wears screams "I don't get paid enough to break up these kids having their make-out sessions," and though that's not what had been happening, the atmosphere was easy enough to read that way.
After apologizing and scrambling out of the seat, Luka turns to Marinette and holds out one hand in offering while typing out a message on his phone with the other. The wait to get to this point has already been so long in coming that the idea of sticking around this place any longer is getting frustrating. He can see she is eager to finish the conversation they started, and it is a sentiment he shares. First though, it would be nice to move this away from the populated locale to a more private setting. They've clearly overstayed their welcome here anyway, if the Ferris Wheel operator's glare is any indication.
"Juleka is coming to pick me up. Do you want us to take you back to your place?" He makes a mental note of the way her blush darkens as he grins at her.
"Sure, sounds nice. Thanks." Her hand falls into his palm without hesitation and their fingers lace together as he pulls her along behind him, down the ramp to ground level and through the fairgrounds.
Leading the way through the now sparsely populated grounds of the festival, the musician can feel her imploring gaze on his back. He doesn't like to presume, but at the same time, what it is she might want from him is not something with an answer that is difficult to surmise. Her warm fingers, still laced through his, tighten their grip as he pulls her along. He imitates the action, letting the rush of happiness flow through him and into his grip on her hand as they make their way to the fairground exit.
Moments later, they stand by a quiet roadside, both taking a moment to breathe after their power walk. The stars over head and streetlights are the only source of illumination brightening this dark area. All the shops along the street have long since closed for the day, their windows blank slates reflecting the scene surrounding them like mirrors in the night. No sign of any traffic. Not a single passerby is here to disturb whatever moment they might have. Unlike the illusion the Ferris wheel created, this time they truly are the only two people here.
He has to steady his nerves for a moment before he has what it takes to face this situation head on. Every thought and feeling he's been keeping inside up until now seems to be compounding at the forefront of his consciousness at once, overwhelming him completely and making it impossible to do anything. 'I thought about so many things to say if this conversation ever happened.' Now that the moment has arrived, a reply of any sort is lost on him. His brain seems to only be capable of recounting the details of the evening, stopping over and over again at the admission on the Ferris Wheel. Still hanging on to the woman's hand, he can feel her grip become shaky in his. It's clear he's not the only one overcome with a spectrum of feelings relating to the weight of the moment they had on that Ferris Wheel. It's easier to shake off some level of nervousness upon realizing their mental states are currently quite similar. The courage he needs to speak up finds him at last with that knowledge in mind.
"To be clear..." voice impressively steady for someone who feels like everything inside has been reduced to gelatin, he drops his grip on her hand and turns to face her, "...what you told me back there...is that you love me, right?"
So help him, he's never wanted an answer to be 'yes' so much in all his life.
Those blue orbs widen slightly, her jaw falling slack. A rosy flush still colors her cheeks as she fidgets with the hem of her shirt. Her mouth moves in an attempt to speak and yet no words make their way out. The reality of the night's events is just registering for her too. After a second, she becomes aware of her own speechlessness and she snaps her mouth shut, biting down on her lower lip. The silence of the summer night drags on for another moment. Then, she finally offers him an affirming nod.
"Okay," Ruminating for a brief few seconds, Luka quietly digests her confirmation before he steps in closer, narrowing the arm's length gap separating them, "and you know I adore you...don't you? I love you so much that I have no clue what to do with myself anymore."
"I-I...I uh...w-well, I know it now." Her words falter, her voice raised an octave or two with the effort of speaking despite feeling rather overwhelmed. Those eyes he's looked into many times tonight shine with unbridled joy and adoration as she holds his electric gaze. Reaching out, she reclaims her grip on the fingers that had been laced together with hers moments before, tracing a tender and repetitive path over his knuckles with her thumb.
Again, it is a simple touch that completely does him in. Goosebumps raise up along his arms and a shiver streaks along his spine. His neck, ears and cheeks are warm with a fierce flush as he stares at this person he adores beneath the star-filled heavens. His hand fumbles with hers, shakily and tenderly moving her fingers around within his grasp as if trying to familiarize himself with every detail of how it feels. In seconds, the desire to close the gap between them completely overpowers his being. The urge to hold her close, to kiss her...they're both way too powerful. Watching the starlight dance in her eyes as she gazes up at him, he can spot what he feels is a similar thought taking shape in her mind. His lips part slightly as he works up the nerve to ask another question.
"A lot happened tonight, and I'm sure you're already overwhelmed. I know I am," as he laces his fingers through hers, he hears Marinette catch her breath, "still, do you think it'd be too confusing if I kiss you? Because...I really want to, if you're willing."
"Y-yeah, i-it uh...it probably will be..." She sputters out after several seconds of gawking at him in startled silence.
He set himself up for that one, really. For obvious reasons, that is a big ask. Too big of an ask. Though he burns with unmet need, he prepares to back away nonetheless.
Just as he is about to let go, the bluenette woman's grip on his hand tightens, stilling him. The concentrated and determined expression on her face holds him in suspension mid-movement. The night breeze picks up, toying with their hair as their gazes meet and hold.
"But...I don't think I care. I want to. Do it anywa-"
Self-control dissolves instantaneously when enthusiastic permission is granted. He moves back in toward her, lips roughly colliding with hers before all the words are even out of her mouth. For the first few seconds after his lips connect with hers the touch is nothing much more than a very soft, gentle brushing of lips. Luka hopes for a better understanding of where her line is before he is willing to take things any farther. Only when he feels her participating, applying pressure and leaning in to the affection, is he okay with letting the kiss organically evolve from a simple peck on the lips into something more intimate.
Pulling away from the intensifying affection, for the first time in his life, Luka finds himself positively swooning. Light-headed, flushed and week in the knees, he leans his forehead against hers, very much in need of the support. The butterflies dance wildly in his stomach. Only in this moment -as he begins to sober up- does he notice her hand tucking some hair behind his ear and lightly trailing along his neck. It's an innocuous enough brush of her fingers against his skin, barely enough to even tickle.
Involuntarily, his body trembles in response.
Drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hand clasps over hers, halting the gentle ministrations.
"Sorry if that's a place you don't like to be touched. I won't do that again." Well, she knows it can be a ticklish area for some people.
"I didn't dislike it." The musician's embarrassed grimace betrays the depth of the feelings he'd hoped to remain in control of. Instantly, the concern etched into her expression disappears, replaced by both intrigue and amusement. Mischievousness dances in her blue bell eyes and that coy grin of hers is downright diabolical. That playful demeanor is irresistible, and though in part he still feels some discomfiture at his heighted awareness of her, his desire to play along is greater. "Come on, that's foul play."
'Oh yeah?' Teasingly, she arches an eyebrow at him, posing a silent challenge. 'You're gonna do what about it?' The joviality of how she responded is a reward in itself. Worth whatever embarrassment he may have felt? Absolutely. When added to the list of other overpowering moments tonight-the apology, the confession, the hug and the kiss, just to name a few- is it a bit too much? Well, yeah. Maybe more than just a bit. At this point, passivity is impossible to even so much as feign.
"Are you trying to goad me into kissing you again?" The playful question falls from his lips as he grins at the suddenly much less bashful-looking woman before him.
"Is it working?" She laughs softly through her own question, having shifted easily back into that old, familiar and playful banter. All previous apprehension and anxiety is now completely gone from her facial features and body language. Her calm self-assuredness is catching, bolstering his own confidence enough that he responds in earnest.
"Yeah, too well." His tone comes out playful, but his statement is not so much a joke as it is an honest admission.
A flicker of affection flashes across her face. This time, she is the one to lean in and give him a quick peck on the lips.
"Well, I guess she wasn't so mad after all..." The newly coupled pair both jump in unison as an unexpected third voice enters the mix. Their gazes quickly search out the source of the sardonic comment, finding Juleka a short distance to their left, leaning onto the hood of her car. One hand on either cheek, she leans on her elbows as the base of her support. His bandmate and sibling waits silently, studying them with an amused expression.
When the realization that the privacy of the moment is gone hits them, the hold they have on one another is relinquished as they hastily pull away from the affection they had just been sharing. Their startled, sheepish expressions are matching, making Luka and Marinette look rather like a pair of deer caught in headlights. For a couple of seconds, no one speaks.
Before either of the two people in front of her can say a single word, Juleka moves back from the hood of the car and takes a few quick steps in their direction. With a truly joyful smile, the woman pulls her friend and her brother into a congratulatory embrace.
"I really am so happy for you guys." The teasing lilt is gone, replaced by pure, heartfelt joy in response to their newly rekindled romance and repaired relationship.
The affectionate embrace lasts only a few seconds before his sister releases them and steps back. She is the first to head back to her car, opening the driver's side door and urging the love-struck duo to follow. Luka and Marinette exchange a glance, smiles breaking on both their faces as they let the joy of the moment and the support of their loved one drown out the nervous energy that had permeated the atmosphere between them for the majority of the night.
Nerves now replaced with growing confidence, the musician offers the bluenette woman his hand once again. Her fingers thread through the spaces in-between his, squeezing affectionately. It is an action he copies before they both follow Juleka's path and climb into the back seat of the old SUV together. The ride back to her place is lively and filled with pleasant conversation.
When the carpool finally arrives at her place, Luka makes a point of accompanying her to the door, fingers still laced firmly together with hers. It is an action born far less from chivalry or politeness than from another, simpler desire. Honestly, it's only to create an excuse to stretch out their time left to spend together. The enchanted atmosphere -steeped in the deep indigo of this late summer starlit night- fills up the space around them and he wants to hang on to that dazzling feeling, even if for only a few more moments.
"So..." The man's nerves sure are relentless little shits that keep popping up when they are the most unwanted tonight. He has to say something in parting, but finds himself reluctant to be the one to initiate a goodbye.
"S-so..." Tone treading the line between anxious and playful, Marinette meets Luka's eyes and their gazes hold.
Both people drop their grip on the other's hand at the same moment as they each try fruitlessly to find the words they want to say next.
There's a familiar warmth and softness alight within her blue bell eyes that he tries to identify as she fixes him with a tender smile. Strands of her dark hair dance around her face as the night breeze toys with them. Her fingers fumble with the keys she's retrieved from her back pocket, fidgeting nervously as she waits for him to continue. All at once, it hits him -the things she wants to convey in this moment where their blue gazes are aligned. He knows this look well. It's the look. The look in her eyes -the perfect mixture of unreserved adoration, nervousness and hope- is one he has seen her wear many times before. It had always been cast in the direction of another of her choosing. Now though, she offers it openly to him. Just to him. Like a fire had been lit from inside, he feels suddenly warm all over.
The smile that lights up his features is a genuinely joyful, contented and happy one, channeling all the mounting affection he holds toward her in the features of his face. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he sees her eyes follow his movements as he opens his contacts.
"Is your number still the same?" His question seems to catch her off guard for a moment. Though it takes a second or two, she does manage an affirming nod. "Would it be fine to add you in again? I had to replace my phone a while ago and it didn't feel right to add you in without asking-"
"It's fine Luka," Blurting out a hasty reply, her hand falls onto his arm in reassurance for a few seconds before she retracts it again, "my number hasn't changed. If you didn't add me, I may actually feel offended." The playful, teasing edge to her voice helps to dull any nervousness or anxiety trying to build.
"Alright..." After typing in her name and contact info and saving, the musician leans in and kisses her softly on the cheek before he can talk himself out of it. A darkening blush helps to draw attention to the place his lips had just been as her fingers come up to rest in that same area. Pleasant surprise is the only accurate terminology that describes what he sees as he beams at her before stepping away to head back toward Juleka's car. "It's late, so I should go. I'll...call you tomorrow?" The phrase takes on the tone of a query.
The bluenette is still so completely wrapped up in her thoughts that the only thing she can manage is another small nod.
After a final delighted grin and quietly spoken goodnight, he turns and heads back to the car, only climbing into the vehicle when he can hear Marinette enter her home and shut the front door behind him. A breathy yet still contented sigh falls from his lips as he settles back into the seat and puts on his seatbelt. Far too lost in the depths of cloud nine, he completely misses the 'happy with yourself, Casanova' look his sister shoots his way in the rear-view mirror.
His phone pings with a new message just before the car pulls away from the curb.
Unlocking the device and seeing the message is a photo sent from his sister, he clicks on it, feeling both curious and suspicious. The picture that pops up on his screen causes a rush of heat to run up along the back of his neck. Somehow, his sister had caught the exact moment he'd leaned in and kissed Marinette's cheek. A small, crooked grin tugs up at one corner of his lip for a fraction of a second before the fact that his sister had just successfully pulled off taking a creep shot sets in. Flooded with embarrassment, his eyes dart up from the phone to stare at his sister as she concentrates on driving.
"Creeper." Tone half-joking, he notes the the enjoyment in the eyes that meet his briefly in the mirror before shifting back to the road.
"You're welcome." The chauffeur retorts without missing a beat.
Simply shaking his head at her antics, Luka glances down at his phone again. While he makes a mental note to later remind her she shouldn't take pictures without permission, he knows it will be something of an empty statement. He can't quite take his own reservations about creep shots seriously when he is secretly happy this picture exists. That aside, he already owes his sister thanks for pushing him to act when needed. Quickly typing out a message, he forwards it and the photo to Marinette before leaning tiredly into the interior of the car door and dazedly watching the scenery roll by.
Meanwhile, as she lay in bed tossing and turning with the restless energy still welled up inside from the night's events, the young woman is almost relieved to hear her phone indicate that she has a new message. Quickly scrambling into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and grabbing the device, she smiles when she sees the sender is Luka. Opening the message and seeing the image contained within makes her bite down on her lip and kick her feet in a fit of...well, some combination of emotion. Excitement? Embarrassment? Both? Whatever it is, it consumes her whole being. Faster than ever before, she taps the 'save to device' button.
Luka Coffaine 9:57pm:
(Can't tell you why, but Juleka took this.
I'll tell her to delete it and I will too if you want but...
I hope you don't mind...I sorta wanna keep it.)
Blushing deeply at the implication of his request, she rushes to try and type out her reply, ending up fumbling for a second or two before losing her grip on her phone and it flops down onto the blankets beside her. With a huff of indignation at her perpetual clumsiness, she picks the device back up and makes a second attempt.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng 10:01pm:
(it would be kinda unfair to tell you to delete it
since I just saved it)
Halfway across town, still in route to his place, the young musician finds himself grinning once again at the reply he'd just read. As if there isn't a second to spare, he also saves the photo to his phone.