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Luka's hopping on his bike when Juleka comes to him, an uncharacteristically somber look in her eyes. "I need a favor," she says bluntly. Rose trails behind her, the blonde wringing her fingers. "We worried about Marinette."
Rose hops in with, "And you really are so good at talking at her! Much better than me or Jules, and she really needs a good friend!"
They had him at favor. "Alright. Where is she?"
But as he asks, he spots her and Alya coming out of the school, and his legs move before his thoughts can catch up. He calls out, "Hey, Marinette!"
Alya gives him a look as Marinette stumbles forward, one that's fitting of a journalist, but she nods as if she approves of what she's found. She says something to Marinette and makes her way back inside.
"Hi, Luka." Marinette's still looking behind her as she greets him, and he assumes she must be confused as to why Alya left. He might be curious himself if he wasn't so concerned from his talk with Juleka.
Marinette turns to look at him, and he feels a pang in his heart at the sight of her dull eyes. Has she been sleeping?
"Can I give you a ride?" Luka holds out his helmet. He'll just wear the other one.
It takes a moment for her to smile, but when she does, her eyes crinkle. "I'd love that," she says honestly as she takes the helmet from him with both hands. "I'm going to go tell Alya. Can I meet you at your bike?"
"I'll be waiting," he says softly.
When she returns to him, Luka's already put on his helmet, sitting in wait. She fixes her things and settles behind him. Her body is warm against his, and he has to remind himself that focusing on that could get her hurt.
So they ride, and she laughs at the feeling of the wind pulling at her, and he smiles from his place up front.
They reach her place in no time, and when she gets off the bike, he notices that her eyes still look dim.
But that isn't tiredness, he realizes, but rather a deep sadness.
Luka reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from going inside her house just yet. "I'm here," he says cautiously. While normally he would smile and try to make her laugh, she is clearly too stressed for that right now. Whatever it is. "If you ever need me, I'm here. You know that, right?"
Marinette's nose scrunches ever so slightly, and she brings her hands to her eyes as she begins to cry. Luka stills and glances at the doors to her apartment. "Mari, do you want to keep riding? Maybe it might take your mind off things."
She sniffles and frantically waves her hands in front of him. "It's nothing," she protests, "I'll be okay. Please, Luka. Don't worry."
"Marinette, you've been off all day. It's why I offered you a ride." It's only partially true; he also just really wanted her to hold on to him again like last time. "I'll leave at your word, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about you. I will do anything to make you smile."
She laughs, rubbing at her tears. "That's part of the problem," she says bitterly.
"Oh." He blinks. "I didn't realize it was like that."
So he turns to leave himself, so she can process whatever he's done, so she can tell him when she's ready. But she yelps, "I didn't mean like that!"
He lets out a low oof when Marinette tugs him towards her from behind, small hands meeting by his collarbone. Luka chuckles at the sight of her pink nail polish around his jacket. She tights her hold on him, and his heartbeat quickens ever so slightly. "Just can't let me go, huh?" His voice is low, and she doesn't respond.
But his breath catches as she rests her head against his back. This, it feels nice. It feels nice having her against him like this. He meets eyes with a stranger giving them a long look, and Luka raises a brow in response. The stranger shakes his head and leaves. Luka would roll his eyes if not for the squeeze in his chest from Marinette's touch, from his worry, from his fear he did something wrong.
"Stay?" she asks quietly. "I'll tell my parents that you're here, and we can have cookies."
Luka brings up his hands to cradle her own. Her skin is soft, and he tries to reassure her with his caress. He wonders if she would let him touch her like this in any other circumstance. "'Nette, I would stay regardless of any cookies."
"Okay," she says slowly, pulling away from him. He frowns at the sight of her palms leaving his. She teasingly adds, "I guess I won't give you any."
When Luka turns around, Marinette's by the door to her residence with key in hand. Her eyes are still glistening with tears, track marks down her cheeks, but she stares at him pensively. He exhales before smiling at her, and he makes his way forward, standing close while she unlocks the door.
She lets him into the stairwell leading up to her apartment, but she shocks him when she turns towards him and asks, "Do you still you mean what you said?"
He laughs, patting her on the shoulder. "I didn't change my mind just because you stopped hugging me."
"No," she says cutely, a blush on her cheeks. "I meant after you were, um-"
"Akumatized?" He leans slightly into her space. "Marinette, I would be lying if I said you weren't still the prettiest melody I've been blessed to hear. No music could ever compare to what I hear when I'm with you, very few songs do when we're apart. Those notes of you, they fill my dreams."
Her mouth is open slightly, and her eyes are wide. "Um," she squeaks out.
Luka takes pity on her and stops. His face grows solemn when he says, "It's alright. I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything because of me. Is that why you invited me in?"
"No!" They both jump at the sound, and Marinette smacks her palms over her mouth right after she processes what she's done. Her face pales, eyes flickering up the stairs.
"Marinette? Is that you?"
"Yes!" Marinette lets out a huff of frustration, her face never leaving Luka's. "Sorry, Dad! I just got spooked. I have a friend over, is that okay?"
"Of course! Bring 'em up, and I'll give them some of the bakery's leftovers."
She lets out a sigh before her face grows panic once more. "My dad might interrogate you," she says quickly with a small stutter, "he does it to all the boys."
"Oh," Luka says with a smirk. "I'll be fine." His lips twitch for a second, the look in his eyes betraying him. Marinette can see his worry, and he knows it from how she studies him. "I'll have to be."
"Why?" She wipes her cheeks. "It's not like it's important. He's just being a dad."
"Because unlike everyone else, I'm playing for keeps," Luka quips. But his voice grows reverent as he says, "If you'll have me. I don't know what I've done to upset you, but I will do anything to make sure you never cry about it again."
"What?" Her eyes are wide, and she shakes her head. "Luka, that's not why I'm crying. You, ugh, you're not the problem."
Hope slams him hard in the chest when processes that, and he nods. He can work with that. "Then why did you say it was problem earlier?"
"Because I'm trying to get over someone, and it's so hard when I'm starting to like you too!"
Luka's grin is blinding; Marinette eeps and looks down at her shoes. A door shuts very loudly upstairs.
He chuckles and laughs deeply and ends in a hum. "Marinette, if your father is about to kill me, can I kiss you first?"
"He's not going to kill you," she says pointedly. "But he will try to make you leave."
Luka looks at her fondly.
"Oh," Marinette says as his words fully hit her, and she hesitantly nods.
The first thing he registers is that her lips taste like the freshest strawberry known to man, and he brings a hand up to cup her cheek, brushing his pinky against her jaw. Her mouth trembles against his, and he cannot help but think that there is no better sound than the shaky gasp Marinette lets out when they part for air.
Luka leans from her ever so slightly, and she pushes forward to meet him, her arms going for his jacket to make him stay. "You seem like you're feeling better," he breathes against her lips.
"Mhm."
Luka bites her lower lip and gently sweeps his tongue against it before he adds, "Good."