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Marinette looked up and wiped her cheeks hurriedly as she heard someone knock on the door to the dark, empty classroom she was hiding in. Luka was half-leaning in the doorway, and he waved. She lowered her face back into her pink and black tulle skirt and curled further into herself.
She heard him come closer, and he sat next to her on the floor with a heavy sigh and leaned his shoulder against hers. Reminding her, like he always did, that she didn’t have to say anything, but she also didn't have to be alone. She sniffed and wiped a stray tear out of the corner of her eye as she raised her head again, enough to rest her chin on her knees.
“Juleka told you.” It sounded more like a glum accusation than she meant it to.
He let out a soft laugh and nodded.
“Did she tell you to come check on me, too?”
This time he shook his head. “I came on my own. I thought you might need a ride home. Or a friend.” Luka’s voice was carefully impassive as always. She lifted her eyes and he shrugged. “Or both.”
“You should go. Leave me alone, like everyone else.” She bit her lip even as the words left her mouth. She wasn't angry with Luka. There was a whole group of people on the dance floor much more deserving of her vitriol. Who had watched her run away and hadn't bothered to come looking for her. Although she wouldn't have wanted them to, anyways. Everyone else was having fun and she wouldn't have wanted to ruin it.
Luka shook his head again and tucked his finger under her chin to prevent her from hiding her face. “I care too much about you to just leave you alone like this.”
His eyes were soft and his voice rang with sincerity. The tide of silent tears she’d been barely holding back broke through again and she tipped over until her head was resting in the hollow of his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her and gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.
She shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder, sniffling pitifully. “Can you take me home?”
“I can do that.” His thumb rubbed a comforting circle on her bare arm. He waited for her to straighten up and she wiped her tears away. Her fingers came away with black flecks. There goes her mascara. Luka stood and offered her a hand up, which she took and he helped pull her to her feet.
Her bare feet hit the cold tile and she sucked in a breath as she remembered her shoes—she'd dared to wear high heels because she'd hoped it would make her legs look good in her tea length skirt. But she'd flung them at the back wall of the classroom when she first ran in here because her feet hurt and it didn't really matter if her legs looked good or not. Lila hadn't cared either way, and she'd made sure to point out how hard Marinette was trying to get a certain blond's attention. Adrien's eyes couldn't possibly have gone any wider, and he'd let her run away, too.
“I didn’t even get to dance,” she muttered.
Luka raised his eyebrows, still holding her hand. “Do you want to?”
“I’m not going back out there.”
“Who says you have to?” With a soft smile, he pulled her close to him, and his other hand fell naturally to her waist.
A laugh was surprised out of her, although since her throat was still thick from crying it sounded more like a choked sob. She nodded, accepting his offer, before she stepped closer to curl her hand around his shoulder and lean her head against his chest. When he started humming, the vibration thrummed against her ear. He swayed gently back and forth and leaned his head against hers.
"I like your dress," he said easily, as if his heart wasn't starting to race under her ear. "Is it one of yours?"
She shook her head, nuzzling him in the process. "I ran out of time. Bit off more than I could chew, as usual."
"I hope you still finish it. I'm sure it's great."
She shrugged. "Maybe. Seems silly to finish it now."
"There'll be other dances." He shifted against her and she pulled away to look up at him. His cheeks were pink, even though he was keeping his expression as neutral as possible.
"Yeah, and I bet I won't be asked to those either."
"You'll be asked." The corners of his lips were starting to pull up into a smile. "Trust me."
"No one asked me to this one," she said suspiciously.
There was a laugh hiding in his voice as he answered, "Maybe 'no one' didn't know you hadn't been asked."
She settled her head back on his shoulder to hide her blush and her pleased smile. "Maybe 'no one' should have just asked," she mumbled.
His hand tightened around hers. "Maybe. But I bet 'no one' won't make that mistake again."
They were quiet, then, and Luka resumed his humming. He was warm against her—or rather she hadn't realized how cold she was until he was holding her.
"You're trembling," he noted, pulling her the slightest bit closer.
"I guess a strapless dress in winter wasn't the smartest choice," she murmured back, glad she had the excuse of the cold room.
He pulled away and stripped off his hoodie easily before he held it out for her. When she hesitated, he shook it to insist. As she slipped her arms into it, she realized he had been warm—he'd been sweating, even.
She held her arms out for him to see and he was definitely smiling as the sleeves flopped over her fingertips. He cleared his throat and dropped his eyes before he glanced up at her through his hair.
"Do you still want to go home?"
She shook her head. "Not right now."
He nodded and offered her his hand again before he pulled her back to him, humming the same soft tune. She felt like she'd heard it before. After a few minutes of listening to it, she still couldn't place it.
"What song is that? It's pretty."
"It's something that’s been stuck in my head lately."
"Is it one of yours?"
He chuckled—a low, quiet sound against her ear. She liked hearing him like this. His voice was always musical and soft, but coming from his chest it was deeper—richer—and she could feel his inflections. Feel the quick intake of breath he tried to hide as she turned her cheek to his collarbone to look up at him. Her eyelashes had brushed against his skin. She did it again on purpose, but he was saying something this time and she didn't catch his reaction.
"I guess you could say that." He was smiling enigmatically and another short laugh escaped him. "Although it's someone else's song. I just hear it all the time."
"Whose song?" Her voice slipped out as a whisper and he definitely shuddered that time.
"Guess."
She pulled away from him again and his eyes locked on hers. It brought a blush to her cheeks— the earnest way he was looking at her like she was all he could see. She dropped her eyes and he dropped his hands and took a respectful step back.
“Luka…”
When she looked back up, he was back to his neutral expression. A sad half-smile still played around his lips. Like he knew what she was about to say, he was braced for her rejection, but he was willing to wait for her to say it. Of course he was willing to wait.
She sighed and clutched his jacket tighter around herself. “I think I’m ready to go, now.”
He nodded and started to turn away, but she caught his wrist and she didn’t miss the small flicker of hope in his eyes as he turned back.
“But I don’t really want to go home.” She bit her lip, hoping he would catch what she was saying.
He seemed to know there was more to her thought and he waited. Always waiting for her. Always there for her. Anyone who was already at the dance could’ve come and found her at any time. And yet it was Luka. Luka who had come all the way here on his bike just to offer her a ride home and a listening ear. Luka who had known where to find her—or maybe had searched everywhere, unwilling to give up until he found her. Unwilling to give up on her.
His brow was starting to furrow as the silence between them stretched thin. Ready to break, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to be the one to break it.
“Anywhere you had in mind?” he asked. She didn’t miss the careful wording. He was giving her the choice. She took a deep breath.
“Anywhere with you?” The words left her in a rush and she let go of his wrist to hide her eyes behind her hands. He didn’t answer right away, and her spiral of self-doubt answered for him. “I’m sorry, that was stupid. I didn’t mean anything, I just thought that maybe, I mean, I don’t want to be alone right now, and if you were willing—but it’s okay if you aren’t, I just... I mean... I’m sorry—”
She heard him take a step closer, and he pulled her hands away from her face and held them loosely.
“Marinette.” Her name fell from his lips like a prayer. She dared to meet his eyes again. “I came here because I didn’t want you to be alone. As long as you want me to stay, I’m not going anywhere without you.”
She breathed a sigh of relief and he smiled.
“Can we go to the Liberty?” she asked shyly. “I… I think I’d like to hear you play that song.”
His thumb rubbed a comforting circle on the back of her hand and his gentle smile warmed her better than his jacket had.
“I can do that.”