What was she even doing anymore? Marinette thought to herself as her eyes scanned over fabric and thread. She was looking for the desired materials to match the designs in her stretch book. She wanted the piece to be the perfect mixture of what was in her stretch book and what was in her head. The design student sat alone in the fashion department studio surrounded by scrap stretch paper. Blocking out everything and everyone, which resulted in her barely talking with any of her friends or family for the last week. Once again disappearing from the world and isolating herself in her work. She wasn't proud of that. But every time she tried to engage, all she could hear was, "It is adequate." It was on loop. 'What did that even fucking mean!' She said every time the loop reset. It just kept echoing over and over, mocking every choice she made on the mannequin. At this point, the attempts were stacking up. This is how she spent her last few days drowning in the school's fashion studio. Students came into the room and left, but she remained, right here. She was beyond adequate. it was a simple assignment, and if this was what she was getting frustrated over…It was exhausting. She saw the fabric that would work for what she wanted to do. She started to pin it to the mannequin. Layer…pin…layer…pin. 'Adequate.' She needed guidance on how to improve to be better. Layer…pin. But more importantly, how to handle her. Layer…pin…layer…p—,

"Fuck…" she cursed out.

Staring down at her finger, she stabbed herself. A good amount of blood came out of her. Marinette put the finger in her mouth and sucked. Iron invaded her taste buds; she felt defeated in a way. She looked over her work to only find blood spots spreading over the fabric where she had pricked herself. 'I can fix this.' She thought, and as calmly as possible, she removed the fabric and pins, slowly growing more aggressive until she ripped the fabric. The mannequin also suffered from her failure to suppress anger, falling to rest with the mess she had created. Marinette let out a frantic breath, her hands pulling at her hair. 'I need a drink.' Marinette stood from her workstation. She stumbled out of the room. The light from the hallway somewhat blinded her as she walked to the elevator. Despite this being the building for Art, this floor was barren outside of a few flyers and posters. But the most important part was that it was quiet due to how high up in the building it was compared to the three floors from the lobby that had an open balcony allowing others to see events and promotions going on in the lobby. During her first few semesters, the teachers fought against the noise that the balcony allowed to enter those floors. Marinette pushed the down button on the panel. Usually, she would be more active and walk down the stairs as it didn't change how long it took compared to the elevator. However, she was physically and emotionally exhausted by her recent failures. All she needed was a coffee and an emotional release. The reality was she would only get one of those, and if she had to choose, it would be the coffee.

The elevator ding and came to a gentle stop. She was about to walk out when she looked up and saw it was not the lobby. Someone with well-styled clothes walked into the space. Their clothes were a white tee shirt tucked into tight black pleather leggings with a smokey black long raincoat—their long hair in a high ponytail. Marinette looked down to see their shoes. The shoes were black gym shoes that gave a slight lift with a white bottom where the lift started, and out of everything, she wanted those shoes. She also noticed that the raincoat had off-white clouds at the bottom and shaped their person. Compared to her outfit, she felt underdressed wearing her go-to outfit, which she had worn more than a few times. It was nice and stylish, but it wasn't. She just felt unlike herself. They were hot. The more she viewed their person, how their chocolate skin aided the outfit further and how their curly hair fell into their face hid the rest of their features. Marinette felt she had seen them before, but where… It dings again, alerting her they had reached the lobby. The individual walked at first, and she followed suit. Then out of nowhere, they turned towards her direction. They had soft features, and their eyes were dark brown. Softly they started, "I've been wanting to say for a while I love your outfits you made this, yeah?"

She was flabbergasted. "Um…yeah. I mean yes I made this." She said, gesturing down at her outfit. They turned and started back on their way, waving a hand goodbye. Marinette couldn't stop herself and yelled out,

"I love your outfit too!"

She covered her mouth and looked around the lobby to see if it had brought attention to her person. They met her eyes and smiled and yelled back,

"Thank You!" Not caring about the people they had disturbed, and just like that, they were gone. Marinette stood staring off in the direction they had walked off in with renewed confidence. Ideas for new pieces flood her mind. The designer contemplated running up the flight of stairs to start on them, but she knew that she should still needed one thing before she could get back to it. Coffee and, of course, an actual break, but she was a workaholic, so that didn't register to her. She set off to where the liquid energy was supplied.

The walk itself was nothing to write home about; most people had left, leaving students who were stressed and needed a quiet place to study, like herself. All have bags under them and a far-off stare making the student body look like zombies like herself. The blunete wondered how she was going to make it home as she dragged herself across campus. She might have found something to design, but she still was running empty. It was amazing how a campus transformed once day classes were over. The overall bright faces with laughter and joy turned to students who were over Uni. Sounds of cars and life tickled her ear as she walked to her destination. A café attached to the bookstore. It was homely, and through the windows, Marinette could see it was empty, void of anyone, but the open sign was still blinking.

She walked into the door, and the bell above the door rang to alert the staff that she imagined was in the storage room. She leaned on the counter, waiting for them to attend to her lazily, looking over a menu that was taped to the counter showcasing their foods. 'I have sweets at home, better taster ones.' She thought, but Marinette could feel her mouth water. She realized it had been a while since her last meal, but still, she didn't need it. She looked further down the menu to see they also had soups and sandwiches. She was screwed. The creamy tomato soup with a two-cheeses grilled cheese sounds like the perfect late-night snack. She was so absorbed with the thought of food that she did not notice the barista come back to the counter until she saw blue-tipped hair touch the counter. She looked up to see the bari-Luka resting his head on his arm that lay on the counter, smiling up at her.

"What brings you in on this fine night, Marinette." He said softly. The way he looked at her made her almost nuke in front of him. She felt something bubble in her stomach, and it made her light head as his eyes looked into her own. She could drown in them if she kept gazing into his clear blue.

"I just need a coffee…um… I might get a small soup too. A tomato soup with grilled cheese." She couldn't think straight. It was like a masterful artist sculpted his face. With a sharp jaw-line and an aristocratic nose, almond-shaped eyes that were emphasized by his long eyelash that gave his eyes the appearance of wearing eyeliner, she was losing this battle. Originally, she thought he did wear makeup but now, staring into his bright blue eyes; it was clear that was not the case. He broke eye contact first.

"Awesome," he started to ring her up on the register. "Do you want me to make your special drink at no extra charge of course." Luka happily started grinning at the designer.

Marinette took a moment to recall, and then she remembered that delicious mocha he had made the last time she had seen him. She nodded her head viciously, showing off a toothy grin. He laughed slightly, reflecting her smile back at her. Luka gave her the amount, and she paid with her phone.

"Okay, then I'll get started on that. Just take a seat, I will bring it over to you."

Marinette knew he was doing extra for her, and she wanted to hate it, but she couldn't. The butterflies lifted her stomach, making her want to run and hide from the emotion. Another part wanted to stay rooted to the floor and watch him in his element. Her eyes watched as he danced around the kitchen area, preparing her order. His attire showed nothing of the muscles she had felt when he had caught her during their meeting. It worked for him with the blue pullover hoodie and black jeans he wore. She started on her way to a table that wasn't far away from him. She needed to stop staring at him. His fashion sense wasn't much more than basic comfy clothes, but it worked for him. Marinette sat down at a table to the right of the counter. She pulled out her phone and looked at her photo album of fabrics she had at home. But as she scrolled through her gallery, her eyes would find themselves on him, and to the looks of it, he was close to done with her order.

Then their eyes met, she was caught staring, but she didn't divert her eyes from his gaze. He collected her food and brought it to her. Marinette started to open the paper bag to take out her soup and sandwich. She was about to take a bite of her sandwich when she looked up at Luka. He was hovering, shifting from one foot to the other. Luka gestured to the chair across from her. The designer took a moment to consider if he sat down eating her sandwich would be off the table. She didn't want to disgust him with how she would devour it. But then he would be on the table. She put her sandwich down and nodded. Eagerly, Luka sat down.

"So, how is your semester going?" A smile graced his face, all too pleased to be in her presence. She took a long sip of her drink.

"No, no, no, mister." She said, shaking her head.

"What?" His eyes were bugging out.

"I want to know about you? Who are you? What do you like to do in your off-time? I don't even know your major." Marinette said, wrapping her grilled cheese back up and pulling out her soup. His eyes went up to the ceiling, leaning back in his chair and crossed his arm. His smile became wolfie as he gazed down at her. She bite the inside of her cheek.

"So many questions, and here I was trying to make small talk." Luka folded himself and leaned as close as he could to her. He propped his head up with his arm.

"Okay, then…my major is Music Performance, on my offtime I like to perform music with my band, Kitty Section but the name is a work in progress. I am not the best with vocials so I stick to guitar. Hmm… and who am I? I'm not sure, why don't you tell me?"

She moves her chair to be right next to him. Luka was taken back by the action. Her shoulder brushed up against his own. 'Friends, ah?' He thought all he could focus on was her warmth and her pink lips as she wet them with her tongue.

"I think you like to be comfortable, but so does everyone. You believe in training your mind as well as your body. You put others before yourself and due to that, people take advantage of you." He blushed at that." You are probably way too close to be a vegan, which would be a problem for me as I don't know any vegan recipes." She brought her hand up to his hair, lightly playing with a strand. He shallowed. "You dye your hair to show off your artist soul because your clothes don't reflect that no matter how hard you try." Her voice grew quieter and quieter, her face inches away from his own. He wanted to close the distance between them so badly. Luka closed his eyes. "And I think your hot." His hand decided to rest at the nape of her neck. Guiding her to him, the guitarist wanted to taste the mocha on her lips. The store door rang, they both jumped apart.

"I'll be right with you." He rushed out, a little too loudly, blushing up a storm. Marinette matched his expression. She avoided his eyes instead of taking an interest in the floor. Luka had no idea what to say, so he walked to the cashier robotically. It was never his intent to almost kissed her, but he was going to kiss her. A large part of him wanted to walk back over to the table and kiss her until she had difficulty standing. He rang up the customer, Marinette, in his peripheral vision. She was taking down her mocha like she hadn't drank in days. He turned away to make the customer's order. He rushed to complete, 'fuck quality.'

The person took the order and left. It was just them again, the air holding an awkward charge to it. Her back was to him, but it seemed she was done downing her drink and moved on to eating her dinner. He took that time to compose himself then he walked to her table. She was mid-bite; she quickly swallowed and put the rest back in the paper bag. He remained standing felt like he was standing in front of his mom right before confessing all his wrongdoing.

"Um…my intention wasn't to make out or kiss you in any way." The designer's face looked confused. He quickly added, "I mean, I want to very much, but I thought we were trying to be friends–taking it slow. So, yeah… I'm sorry." The expression on her face wasn't confused anymore. Instead, it twisted into something he could quite figure out. What came to Luka's mind was fierce determination. It was hot. He hated that his mind went there. She picked up her drink again and finished it.

Abruptly, she stood up. He took a step back. She matched him, Marinette stood right in front of him. He tried to focus on anything else other than her lips. He watched as her hands reached the nape of his neck. Her nail lightly scratched as they went further into his hair. She guided him down and sealed her lips onto his. He closed his eyes. Her lips were soft and hot from the mocha—his hand resting on her full hips. The kiss was slow and languid – nothing mattered but this moment. She pulled away; he followed her kissing again. The bluenette sighed into the kiss opening her mouth to give him access, and he took it. Their tongues played around one another. Dark chocolate invaded his taste buds. He couldn't tell if it was her or him, but soon, their pace became feverish. The fingers in his hair glided up and down, eliciting a moan from him. He gripped her hips in response to her actions. Then he broke away to catch his breath, resting his head on hers.

"Friends?" She said through breaths.

"Friends." His hands were still roaming her body. Her arms around his neck, one hand play with his hair. He liked being friends with Marinette.