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"What the hell are you doing?!"

It had taken Chloé a moment to realize what was happening when someone suddenly grabbed her wrist and dragged her away from the front of the school. It was only when she blinked tears out of her eyes and focused on a mop of black and blue hair that she realized who the perpetrator was.

"Getting you away from everyone," Luka answered seriously.

"And the fact that we agreed that there would be no contact between us at school means nothing to you?!"

Luka pulled her into an empty classroom and closed the door, making sure no one had followed or seen.

"It was either that or let you ruin your reputation at school by crying in front of everyone."

Chloé scoffed and crossed her arms. She watched Luka move to sit on a desk in the front row, his eyes never leaving hers. There was that eerie sense of calm again. Was it eerie or just unusual for her?

"I cry at school all the time," Chloé rebuked.

"Yeah, but it's not actually all real, is it?"

"Where on Earth would you get such a ridiculous idea?"

"Well," Luka said, leaning back on his palms, "seeing as most of the people I hang out with are not only in your class, but also some of the people who hate you the most, it's fair to say that I hear a lot about you."

Chloé let her arms fall and shoulders droop just a little bit.

"Yeah, you're right."

Luka took notice of the dejected look on her face and patted the table next to him, inviting her to sit. She did so automatically; she was starting to notice she felt much more comfortable around him than a lot of other people. Since the nature of their relationship was so ridiculous and outlandish right from the get go, it seemed unnatural to be anything but comfortable around one another. There was no need to put up a front or not be themselves around the other person - after all, they were the ones with a shared secret from everybody else.

"For what it's worth, you're not half as bad as what they describe you to be."

"What do they say," Chloé asked. She shuffled her dangling feet nervously. Luka noticed.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Hey, school hasn't even started yet and this day is already full of shit. Lay it on me."

He chuckled dryly before going silent. He was trying to think of what to say. There were so many instances and so many of them sounded completely the same that they all muddled together in his brain.

"Well, first off, I've been hearing a lot less about you recently. You have become better from what I've heard."

Chloé didn't say anything, simply preparing herself for what was to come. She did want to know what he had heard but she knew she wouldn't like it. For a moment she wondered why what he heard about her mattered. Did she care about what he thought about her? Her mind said no but the ring on her finger said yes.

"I hear about you from Juleka the most, but I also see her the most. Marinette gets the most fired up whenever you're name appears in conversation though. It's a lot of the same stuff. Words like brat, snotty, and stuck-up are the most popular. Every once in a while I hear things that are more...hurtful. But I don't necessarily think they're true."

"Such as?"

"Well, I've heard people speculate as to whether or not you're homophobic, especially my sister since she's with Rose. But it never goes beyond wild guesses or rumors. I've heard people say that you're evil and that you work with Hawkmoth, but it only happened the once and he manipulates people on the daily."

"You're giving me a lot of credit," Chloé grumbled. "I did work with Hawkmoth, there's no excusing it. I am stuck-up and a brat. I'm not homophobic though. Everything I mess with your sister or Rose for is completely unrelated to the fact that they are dating."

"You've gotten better though," Luka countered. "That's really all anyone can ask for is that you're trying to improve. You know that the things people say about you are mostly true, you know those things are wrong, and you're trying to fix yourself. Your song has gone from angry and bitter notes to simple and soft melodies."

"My song," Chloé asked, finally looking up at him. He looked pensive for a moment, trying to put something into words but not quite being able to do it.

"I can...hear people. Hear what's in their heart and I can put it into music. It would be easier to explain if I had my guitar. Back when I first started hearing about you and seeing you, all I could hear was low pitched, angry sounds. Bitter and nasty sounding music. It made me want to cover my ears."

"Big help, thanks," she retorted.

"But more recently, it became this sort of sad and soft melody. It was really pretty and pleasant. It sounded lonely or like it was trying to reach out."

"Was?"

"Well, at the party when we bumped into each other, it changed. And it's been playing non stop every time I see you."

"What does this one sound like," Chloé muttered. Her curiosity had peaked and she wanted to know more. She had never heard of someone being able to hear people like that.

"It sounds like sadness and happiness all at the same time. It sounds like, you know when you're having a happy moment but it's also kind of melancholic at the same time? It's like...like..."

He could see she wasn't getting it. Words were hard, music was easy. It wasn't easy to just explain how music made you feel. An idea struck him.

"Come on, I'll show you."

He took her by the hand and led her to the door. He cracked it open, making sure no one was around, for her sake more than his. He didn't mind being seen with her. No one was around, they must have all headed to class. The two had forgotten that they were at school and needed to be in class.

He led her across the courtyard and up a flight of stairs on the other side of the school. He peaked into the room before opening the door. It was the music room. As Chloé shut the door behind them, Luka began scanning through the instruments.

"Banjo, no. Mandolin, no. Dulcimer, no. Guitar, no. Bass, definitely not."

Chloé watched Luka sift through all of the string instruments, passing right by the cellos, ukuleles and harps. He stopped at a violin momentarily, picking it up and playing a few measures of something quite beautiful on it. He shook his head and put it back.

"Close but no."

"You can play the violin?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

Chloé had to admit she was surprised. She knew he could play the guitar but she figured that was it. She could picture him in some bar somewhere playing some indie something or other. But the violin? She thought only sophisticated people played those.

"So how many instruments can you play," Chloé asked, cocking her hip out.

"If it has strings on it, I can play it. I don't know what it is, some uncanny ability or just talent but string instruments have always come naturally to me. Mix it with a love for music and spending hours locked away in the music room learning as much as possible and viola!"

He stopped his search for the perfect instrument for a second, looking puzzled.

"What about a piano," Chloé offered. "Pianos have strings."

"Yes but they're technically part of the percussion family," Luka told her as he went back to the violas.

"But it has strings. Have you ever tried it?"

Luka stopped and then turned to look at Chloé. He was considering.

"A piano is very you. It might work! Perfect for her royal highness!"

Chloé rolled her eyes at the nickname he had become fond of. Luka made his way over to the grand piano in the far corner of the room. He opened it and then touched three keys right in the center. He used his other hand to press two more higher up. He sat down, pressing the keys and figuring out which notes were which. He paused and then slowly he started playing.

It started out slow, just a few keys here and there and the beginning of a melody. And then he played four notes. Four notes in succession going up the scale. They hit her perfectly. It was like being stabbed in the gut, but in the best way. He tried the four notes again, and this time, after those four, he went down, creating a gorgeous melody. He continued that with his left hand and then began playing on the higher keys with his right. Even though the melody was comprised of eighth notes, the song was slow and peaceful. And Luka had been right, it sounded kind of sad.

His hands then shifted, his left hand playing the melody lower and his right continuing where the left had previously been. He seemed so immersed in it, focusing so hard but also looking as if he was barely trying.

Chloé watched and listened as his right hand broke away, playing a version of the melody on the higher notes, the whole thing becoming louder and faster. It was so beautiful. It was sad but hopeful and for some reason it resonated with her. She could feel it in her heart. This was her song, this was what he heard when he looked at her, when he was around her. She felt her mouth fall open slightly as she slowly crossed over to him on the piano.

He was playing loudly and intensely, the whole song picking up and becoming more powerful. But the power was nothing compared to the beauty of the notes. The music swelled and filled the room, the light seeming to shine extra brightly on the two by the piano. She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked up at her smiling. He slowed the music down as the song came to an end, but their eyes didn't part.

"That's what I sound like," she asked quietly when he was done. She didn't dare speak any louder, in fear that it would ruin the feeling the music had given her. He nodded.

"Every time I see you, that's what I hear."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes," he agreed, smiling up at her. "Yes it is."