Work Text:
The song Marinette used to sweep Luka off his very willing feet is this btw: https://youtu.be/qK5OgQ5RCAE
“Is that all M . Laurent?” Usually, Luka likes interacting with his clients. He enjoyed hearing them talk and explain what they wanted him to do and the colors that popped out while they did their best to channel what they wanted, usually gives him enough edge to know exactly what they want to see. But this time, looking at the pudgy man and his disaster of hues had him grimacing; hiding the displeased tilt of his lips under a hand.
“Yes, yes, that’s all.” Luka grunted with a small frown as M. Laurent tossed him half of the payment needed for the mural he was tasked to do down the street near the Trocadéro, the bills spreading haphazardly across the table and into his condensing iced tea. Sometimes, it really does suck being a teenage artist, especially when dealing with condescending, stuck-up adults like M. Laurent. He gathered the bills- shaking off the water on some, and pocketed it as he stood up to gather his sketchbook and pencils.
M. Laurent wanted some sort of abstract mural, something bold and energetic, something Luka has trouble imagining given the man’s lack of colors. Everyone has their own shades and pigments, Luka has always seen hues in a way normal people don't. And M. Laurent was one of those people whose colors are terribly distorted and muted. Luka almost felt bad for him; what kind of things did happen to him for his soul-hues to look so lifeless? Nonetheless, a job is a job, and Luka will take what he can. He might even be considered lucky for booking this commission. After all, it isn’t often that artists his age were given enough credit to handle something as big as a mural.
Inspiration. He’d definitely need inspiration. Luka looked at his sketchbook with a disgruntled tilt of his head. The colors look off. And the flow of lines doesn’t seem to fit with what M. Laurent is looking for.
“Excuse me!” A voice suddenly called out. Luka stepped aside just in time to stop himself from colliding with a blur of pink, the sound of wheels against gravel whizzing past him as his bangs swayed from the wind that blew from the stranger’s skating. He followed the figure; obviously a girl with how much pink they’re sporting, and hummed. His client is looking for something bold and energetic? That certainly looked bold and energetic. Thankfully, his current target for inspiration stopped just down the road by the edge of the bridge and Luka watched as he walked. The stranger idly hopped off her skateboard and did a thing with it that had the board flipping up and into her hand. It was cool and already, his fingers were twitching.
People-watching isn’t new to him and if he’s being honest, it’s one of his favorite hobbies. He loves studying random strangers and seeing their unique blend of colors, hues that made them, them. Most of his works were in fact, inspired by people on the streets, their individuality boosting his ideas enough to give his creations a certain level of uniqueness he’s steadily getting known for. And it seems, he’d found his latest muse.
By the time he reached the bridge himself, Luka’s target had her protection gears off and stowed inside the ukulele bag she had strapped to her back, a black casing littered with patches of various brandings and probably band symbols. He took a seat on one of the benches and laid his sketchbook flat on his lap, patiently waiting for the blast of colors that might finally drag him out of his art block.
Unfortunately, luck was apparently not by his side today. The skater girl just sat there, her legs idly swaying as she hung them off the edge of the bridge, head bobbing idly as she rested her head on top of her folded arms. He didn't even see her face. Luka sighed defeatedly and irately scratched at his hair, frowning morosely down at his sketchbook. Guess he’d just have to shake the block off.
The bridge was relatively free, only a handful of people and some kids playing around, carefree laughter mingling with the sound of the seine, and despite the frustration of his art block, Luka finds his shoulders loosening down to relax. Perhaps, some inner peace would do. He lost track of time then, falling into a meditative state as he tried to expel the bitter aftermath of M. Laurent’s dull colors, willing to coax out the vibrant colors of his sister and mother in hopes of rekindling the inspiration that had run away from him all day since meeting with the dull, bitter man.
Then suddenly, there was music.
His eyes snapped open, an explosion of blues; cyans, azure, cerulean, popping in tiny bursts of hue colored flowers as the sound of energetic playing along with children’s laughter flowed through the surrounding wind and wrapping him in cornflower, aquamarine, turquoise-
“She’s resplendent, so confident, La Seine, La Seine, La Seine~” And then there were greens.
Luka jolted and amidst the hues of ferns and olives, and pines, he saw her.
It was the skater girl. Who was now a rainbow of such vibrant colors that had his throat hitching as she bounced and played and sang— her voice was so full of life and he knows just by the energy and colors flowing from her fingertips as she plucked at the strings of her ukulele, he could paint her a whole exhibit with it alone.
“ I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why, that's how we are; La Seine and I.” Is he swooning? Luka feels like he’s absolutely swooning. She was a ball of ever changing colors, a multitude of hues, and Luka itched to use her colors — fingers groping at his sketchbook as he refused to take his eyes off of her.
And then, she moved. The children followed after her and he was hit with the memory of a long-ago fairy tale; the Pied Piper who hypnotized children with his music as they danced merrily to his tunes and melodies.
She was an absolute performer, and Luka was enamored. As she played, her body moved along with the dips and the highs and the way her energy sung had him blinking as he struggled to keep track of the harmony of colors overflowing from her being. She skipped towards his direction and he felt his heart mimic the way she steps and hops closer to him and his weak knees.
“ That’s how we are; La Seine and I.” Their eyes met. And oh, oh — wow she’s pretty. Luka can name every single shade of blue there is and he still wouldn’t be able to give her eyes justice. They were glittering, like the purest of sapphires and with just how happy they were twinkling, he feels as if he’s looking at stars instead of eyes.
She smiled at him as she sang and yes, Luka.exe had officially stopped working.
The children giggled and he started when he noticed they were laughing at him. What face was he even making for kids to pick up on his inner meltdown?
“I feel alive, when I'm beside, La Seine, La Seine, La Seine-” Oh skater girl has sass. She humored the kids and turned to him as she sang in an overly dramatic way, acting as if she was serenading him and if Luka wasn’t so damn charmed already, he would’ve been dead then and there.
“ From this angle, like an angel-” She winked at him and mon dieu her colors are absolutely dazzling.
“ I don't know, don't know, so don't ask me why, that's how we are; La Seine and I.” She finally danced past him, her little army of awe-struck children following closely at her heels and Luka finally took a breath the moment those killer eyes left him. His heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his ribcage, head ringing and buzzing; is this how it feels to be drunk? Because he sure ain’t feeling level-headed right now.
As her music continued to play, far enough to not short circuit him but near enough to keep the colors fresh and vivid, Luka took his sketchbook and surrendered under her siren’s call.
Luka couldn't quite believe his luck when a few days after meeting Skater Girl, he saw her again, on the same bridge, with probably the same group of children as well. Butterflies erupted from behind his ribcage, his eyes taking in the lively bounce of her adorable side ponytail dipped in rose pink, the way how she was making the air around her buzz with good energy as she sang and danced and Luka might be a little more taken than he already was.
Her eyes suddenly met his from the other side of the bridge and thankfully, there was no one near enough to hear the garbled sound that squeaked from his throat. She grinned at him and he managed to smile back, wishing and praying at whoever god that was merciful enough for his face to not be as red as how hot he feels.
He sat down on one of the benches, just enough to hear skater girl without the fear of getting serenaded again— as much as he loves looking at her, he might actually froth in the mouth if she pulls something that lethal for the second time, especially now that Luka’s been mooning nonstop about her; he doesn’t even know her name for cripe’s sake.
He spent the entirety of the afternoon there, sketching and doodling as her colors continued to tickle his senses, his papers slowly getting filled with pink hoodies and rose-tipped hair, twinkling eyes, and graceful playing fingers. By the time Luka stopped drawing, the only color that remained was the black charcoal by his fingertips.
The third time he saw her, his brows vanished past his shaggy bangs. Her colors were still as vivid and vibrant, but boy , even without his little trick with colors, it was obvious that Skater Girl is pissed. Chili red and glowing amber sparked around her like tiny fireworks and it was when she turned around to check her phone did he see the angry red scratch by her cheek. He took the time to observe her closely then, narrowing his eyes a fraction as he saw tiny scratches littering down her arms. Her signature pink hoodie-jacket combo was off, tied around her waist, and if not for the out-of-place concern ( he is a stranger after all; hopelessly smitten, but still a stranger) he feels for her, Luka might have allowed himself to appreciate the smooth, pale skin of her usually covered biceps.
“Rough day?” He found himself saying despite his better judgment. Skater girl blinked owlishly at him, her fireworks watering down to blush red and pale yellows.
“You can say that.” She sheepishly answered. Delicate fingers tipped with black polish tucked in a tuft of hair from behind an ear and Luka’s toes curled when he saw the multiple piercings following the arch of her pretty ear.
You are being such a creep right now. A voice that was definitely his sister’s grouched from inside his thoughts.
He coughed before digging at his pockets, his sketchbook tucked safely under his other arm. With a sound of triumph, he managed to fish out a piece of pink polka-dotted plaster. Luka graciously ignored the urge to blush as skater girl raised an eyebrow at the color.
Thankfully, she didn’t say anything about it and simply took the thing when he gestured to the scratch on her cheek.
“I fcking hate bullies.” The blush that rose to her cheeks almost felt like a blow to the gut and Luka didn’t even mind the breathlessness that had followed. “I’m sorry. Maman said it’s not nice to cuss.”
Luka doesn’t like cursing as well. But for skater girl, he’s willing to compromise.
He was about to ask for her name( finally) when his phone suddenly rang. He automatically picked it up.
“What? Is she okay? Yeah, I’m close by. Yes, yes I’m going home right now. Tell her I love her. Love you too, bye.” He can feel her eyes looking at him and if he wasn’t so concerned for Juleka right now, Luka’s pretty sure he’d be blushing.
“I’m sorry I gotta go— I hope you feel better soon!” When he was nearly out of the bridge and onto the sidewalk, he turned around and shouted; “For the record, I hate bullies too!”
The laugh that chased after him was the only thing that stopped him from setting Juleka’s school on fire.
She was curled into herself when he got there, head buried down with her knees drawn up to her chest, colors muted down to greys and barely-there blues. It hurt Luka more than it should.
Gently, he sat beside her, silently taking out his tools as he got ready to do some warm-up before starting on his latest art project; a landscape charcoal assignment of their favorite spot in Paris. It was a no-brainer for Luka, this bridge has been one of his favorites for a while now.
He felt her shift but simply continued to do his hatching exercise and stuff, seeing her take a peek out of his peripherals. By the time he was done and starting on his base draft, she was humming softly and Luka smiled as her colors started to get more saturated until the grays were nearly gone and forgotten.
“You have very pretty fingers.” She suddenly said and immediately squeaked as she slapped a hand to her mouth. He ignored the angry line of charcoal bisecting the arch of the railing he’s sketching— his hand twitching in surprise at her random compliment, and simply chuckled as he ignored the heat climbing up his cheeks.
“Thanks, you have very pretty fingers too.” She blushed brightly and Luka laughed; breathless and giddy. Gosh darn it she’s so adorable —
Comfortable silence followed after that, Luka resuming his sketching as skater girl continued to hum, her voice sending a rush of warm tingles down his spine and down his fingertips. She continued to watch him and Luka was more than glad to let her.
“I got suspended.” She said as he began darkening the foundation of the buildings lining the sidewalk of the bridge.
“Because of the bully?” He put his charcoal down and mildly turned to face her, biting his tongue to prevent himself from doing something stupid at the sighed of her puffed cheeks.
“Yeah. I guess it’s my fault for jumping at her but she started it!” The pink tips of her bangs flew up at her rough exhale and Luka choked.
“For someone so tiny, you sure have a temper.” The mock anger that flashed on her face was worth the pinch to his arm, he’s so happy she’s being so comfortable with him. “ Ow- see?”
She huffed again and rolled her eyes at him. His grin widened. “I know I deserve that suspension but come on! A week-long? And that bully didn’t even get any punishment? Talk about unfairness. She’s so lucky her dad’s got money.”
“Is that why you looked so down?” He crossed his legs and leaned his cheek against the hand he propped on top of his knee, fondly watching as skater girl faced him fully, her knees still clutched to her chest.
“Well yeah. Cause if you think about it, money sure makes the world go round huh?” Her colors started to dim again, and Luka clicked his tongue.
“That’s true. But eventually, things will start to fall into place. Do you believe in Karma?” She giggled at that and he smiled at the sound.
“Of course! My mom’s Chinese; I grew up with the Law of Action drilled into me the moment I was able to start walking.” She sighed, fingers tightening over each other. “Although I think my temper isn’t really fitted with waiting for Karma to do its thing.” Her grin was sheepish.
Luka opened his mouth to reply when she suddenly straightened as if hearing something he couldn't until she hopped to her feet and turned around.
“Nino!” She shouted, waving at the boy by the sidewalk. Luka took in the headphones and the glasses and the reds and blues and orange and swallowed down the negative thoughts that followed.
Skater girl shoved a hand down her pocket, Luka going crossed-eyed as she all but shoved a fistful of candies by his face.
“Thanks for cheering me up! I gotta go now!” He blinked as she skittered down the bridge, nearly tripping as she met with the boy; Nino, at the cobbled steps. Luka saw how she blushed when the dark-skinned boy leaned over to whisper something by her ear and promptly swallowed a mouthful of non-existent saliva. It really shouldn’t be a big deal, nor a surprise really. A girl that pretty was ought to be taken, he’s actually more surprised it took this long for him to see her boyfriend.
As she vanished down the road, Nino’s arm tossed over her shoulders, Luka turned back to his sketchbook and closed it with a defeated sigh.
The taste of the strawberry candies was the only balm to his aching heart that afternoon.
“Are you done moping?” Luka groaned and turned to his side, ignoring Juleka’s drawl from the other side of the room.
“Leave me alone Jules.” It’s been nearly a week since he last visited the bridge and Luka might or might not be going through withdrawals. He missed skater girl’s colors and nothing seemed to have helped with kicking his funk away. After getting used to basking on her hues, everything just seems to pale in comparison and it was starting to affect his works. He’s being stupid, really. He doesn’t even know her name and here he is acting as if she broke his heart in half and spat on it.
“Get up.” Luka let out a soft oof as Juleka began hitting him with his pillow after snatching his blanket away from him. “My friends are here and if I remember correctly, you were the one who gave me the idea of inviting them over as thanks for standing up for me.”
Oh, right. Was that supposed to be today?
He did, in fact, tell Juleka that it would be nice to invite her friends over after the whole Chloe debacle. His face scrunched up at the memory, coming home to a red-eyed Juleka was not something he’d like to get accustomed to. Chloe was a familiar name and not for a good reason. Far from it actually.
The girl was a massive bully and liked to pick on his little sister and her already meek personality. It almost got so bad to the point that their Ma nearly pulled Juleka out of Dupont but eventually, things started to get better when Juleka got roped into a small group of friends willing to clap back at the rancid heiress for her. The offer to transfer schools was always there, however, but it was Juleka herself who decided she wanted to stay, saying that her friends matter more than some insecure bully and her stupid yellow jacket.
It was just that the latest stunt with Chloe was particularly worse than usual. The blonde probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed since she was biting heads off left and right, Juleka’s sparkly, brand new top— something he made for her after the sudden inspiration in courtesy of skater girl, catching her eye and making her pissy enough to actually try ruining said top with a staged accident revolving coffee of all things.
Thankfully, one of Juleka’s friends; Marie? Anette? Something — acted fast enough. The coffee ended up splashing onto her instead but unlike Juleka, she doesn’t know when or how to hold back. Luka can still remember how despite the red rimmed eyes and blocked nose, Juleka relayed the story with pride glinting in her eyes, lips spread in a satisfied smirk. It seems that Juleka’s friend has a temper that reminded him of a particular girl. It takes massive balls to be able to go toe to toe with Chloe Bourgeois of all people, much less throwing a bottle’s worth of water at her.
Juleka did feel bad that her friend got suspended for decking it out with the blonde heiress so Luka told her that if she wanted to make up for it, she could invite her friends to the houseboat for some good little party to show her appreciation, something Juleka gladly agreed too despite her usually withdrawn nature.
Besides, Luka and Anarka would definitely love to meet the group that has been taking care of their residential baby goth queen at school.
“Alright, alright I'm up. Pass me my blazer now would you?” Juleka picked up the black coat and tossed it over his head, mumbling about going back up and making sure no one yeets themselves overboard.
With a deep sigh, Luka tried to shake off the rocks rolling in his gut and shrugged his blazer on, staring like a lovesick puppy at the sketches of skater girl by his sketchbook. He had covered it in hopes of recovering from his… heartbreak? But the cover must've flown away from Juleka’s assault with his pillow from earlier. He picked up the sketchbook, blinking slowly before dropping the book by his bed.
Luka stared at the ceiling and sighed. For someone who barely even gets to spend time with her, he sure is acting as if he’d got cheated on. With a final head shake, Luka turned to his heels, idly stepping over his art materials and cloth scraps, and up the stairs and into the deck.
The harsh light of the sun felt like a punch to the face and Luka blinked to chase away the momentary blindness. He heard Juleka call out to him, turning around with squinty eyes in the direction of his sister and her small group of friends by the upper deck. While his vision adjusted, he started walking, frowning when he heard a familiar-sounding squeak.
Wait… Isn’t that-?
“This is my brother. Stupid, these are my friends; you already know Rose, this is Alix, Ivan, Nino-” He immediately recognized the spectacle-wearing boy, still bursting with blues and reds and oranges. However, it was the girl beside him that had him blinking in mixed confusion and bewilderment.
“-and Marinette.” After weeks of avoiding her, Luka felt his knees wobble when he was hit with the vibrancy of her colors as she visibly lit up at the sight of him, sapphire eyes glinting with recognition and dare he say it, excitement and he clenched his fingers as they shook.
Skater girl stepped closer and he almost took a step back, eyes widening when she reached over to take one of his hands into hers. Her touch sent a bolt of electricity that had his spine straightening in reflex and he ignored Juleka’s perplexed stare by his peripherals.
“I was worried! I thought something happened to you! And finally! I can ask you for your name!” She laughed and the pink that dusted over her freckled cheeks was more than enough to kill him on the spot. “I’ve been calling you angel in my head—” her eyes widened and he met her stare with his own deer caught in the headlights one “—because of the song! Y-you know, r-r-remember? Because the kids were t-t-teasing and the lyrics had t-the word angel on it and y-you were just there and— Nino I told you to shut me up when this happens!” He watched her, almost in a daze as she growled at the dark-skinned boy while the girl with the hot pink hair laughed rambunctiously.
Oh gosh he missed her colors so much. No wonder nothing ever helped. Nothing could even remotely hold a candle to her hues, now that he can see them again; a multitude of vibrancy that makes his eyes half-lidded as his skin drank in the heat from the grip she still has on his hand.
His fingers flexed, and her eyes snapped back to him. If his smile was dopey and 100% besotted, it was worth it.
She blushed but smiled. “Hi! I’m Marinette, nice to meet you—?”
“Lu-Lu-Luka.” He didn’t even care if he stuttered, all he could think about was how pretty she was, giggling at his blunder as his ears went red.
“Hello, Lu-Lu-Luka!” Right then and there, as another wave of vivid colors, now mingling with the blues of his name erupted from the girl that had been taking his mind hostage for weeks, Luka finally admitted to himself.
He’s deeply lost in love, and he doesn’t want to be saved.
