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Mornings were Kagami’s favourite time in the tattoo shop.
Being an early riser, she was typically the first one in. She loved the ritual of shrugging off her leather jacket while she transferred her steaming travel mug of tea from one hand to the next, often gripping a pastry bag between her teeth and brainstorming her latest projects. For a half hour or so, the silence was only broken by the stuttering of the air conditioner and the scratch of pencil against paper.
Her solitude never lasted long. Little by little, Kagami’s colleagues would trickle in, accompanied by accounts of their wild nights out or, in Nate’s case, blushing accounts of romcom-esque date nights with his partner. Kagami had never been a big people person, but that background noise was part of her morning routine. And, for the most part, her coworkers were respectful of her personal space.
Luka, the receptionist, was usually the last to slink into the shop, and was the biggest variable to Kagami’s mornings. Her pre-noon interactions with him went one of two ways—either he stumbled in after a late night out with his band, nursing a giant coffee and communicating only in grunts until the cup was empty, or he’d come in chipper as…well, as the type of person Kagami typically tried to avoid: all glass half-full and stuffed with silver linings.
Frankly, Kagami didn’t have time for silver linings. If she had to have any lining at all, she expected gold or platinum. She expected the best. Still, Luka was annoying in the way she suspected a brother might be, and Kagami gave as good as she got.
Today was no different.
“She should be out there soon,” Luka said as he walked into the back room. He went right up and leaned against Kagami’s desk, hovering over her.
Kagami didn’t look up from her work—she was currently finishing up a rather intricate design of a tombstone on a sheet of tracing paper—as she replied. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure you do.”
Kagami glared up at him. “And I’m pretty sure you’re casting shadows over my work.”
“Pfft.” Luka rolled his eyes, but he did stand up and take a half-step back; he knew not to push her too far. “I was only trying to be nice and tell you it’s almost time to open the shop. But if you want me to open the curtains today…” His eyes sparkled in amusement.
A few months ago, Kagami wouldn’t have cared about who opened the curtains. She probably would have been annoyed if Luka asked her to do it, because what else were they paying him for if not to do things like that? But that was before the flower shop had opened up next door.
That was before Marinette.
It took a pitifully short amount of time for Kagami to break. “No.”
Luka grinned. “You know, you act like you’re so hard to read. But really—”
“Don’t finish that sentence, Couffaine.” She tapped her pen against the corner of the desk. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Luka laughed as he walked away, and Kagami waited until he turned the corner to let her smile break through. She glanced at the clock on her desk before finishing up a few last strokes on her design, not bothering to rush. She knew Luka wouldn’t actually open the curtains without her; he just liked to tease.
When she finished, she took another few seconds to check her hair in the screen of her phone. Her undercut was starting to get a little long, so she’d have to get that taken care of soon, but aside from that nothing seemed amiss.
Next, she stood and slipped off her cardigan. Kagami didn’t consider herself particularly vain, but there were moments where showing a little skin—particularly a pair of well toned and even better inked arms—came in handy. Although, come to think of it…maybe the backless flowing tank top was a little much.
But before she could decide whether or not to put the cardigan back on, Nathaniel walked into the back and made the decision for her.
“Luka’s getting impatient,” he said. “I swear he gets more excited about seeing your girlfriend than you do.”
“Not my girlfriend,” Kagami returned, slipping her phone into her back pocket.
The last time she’d left it unattended, Luka had set her up with a TikTok account, and she couldn’t risk him finding out she actually used it. As for how he’d gotten hold of her password? She was still investigating.
Nathaniel made shook his head and rolled his eyes, but it was all for show. Kagami had mastered the art of feigning annoyance, all the while giving enough clues to tell the careful observer she wasn’t truly bothered. Recognizing that in someone else had become second-nature.
Or maybe Kagami just spent too much time studying people’s faces, trying to figure them out.
Luka slow-whistled when Kagami walked into the lobby. He moved a roll of newspapers out of the way to lean his elbows on the desk, resting his chin on his hands with a devious smirk. “I see you’re trying to impress her today.”
Kagami ignored him. She checked the time behind the desk as she walked around it, stopping in front of the curtain strings and crossing her arms. She tried not to worry that she was trying too hard. She wasn’t really…great at the whole flirting thing, but she was making an effort.
She really didn’t want to screw this up.
Luka walked up beside her. “You know…you could actually go outside for once and talk to her. I’m sure she doesn’t bite.”
“I could,” Kagami agreed, busying herself with untangling the curtain strings so Luka couldn’t see her amusement.
There was silence for a moment, but it was the clock-ticking-incessantly and Luka-hovering-too-close type of silence, not the peace and quiet of the early morning.
“This is unlike you,” Luka finally huffed. He twisted his bracelets almost as much as he twisted Kagami’s last nerve. “Miss Aries rising not going after what she wants? And aren’t you a Leo moon, too? Two fire signs…No wonder you’re a pain in my ass.”
“I have no idea what you’re on about.”
Luka snorted. “I swear to God, you’re the only lesbian I’ve ever met who doesn’t like astrology.”
Kagami rolled her eyes, but she had to admit that Luka wasn’t far off. “Maybe that’s why I’m still single.”
“Or it could just be your personality.”
Kagami reached behind him to the roll of newspapers on the desk and whacked him lightly on the head. He eyed her meaningfully as if to say, case in point.
Mornings at the tattoo shop truly were something.
But her favourite part about the mornings lately had nothing to do with what happened inside the shop.
“Come on,” Luka said. “It’s probably time.”
Kagami shook her head, unable to keep her smile at bay this time. “Nate was right. You really are more excited than I am.”
She turned to meet his eyes for a brief moment, surprised by the sincerity she found.
“You know, I do want you to be happy,” he said.
Kagami did know.
But she also knew Luka was way too nosy. She didn’t want to open up to him about a not-quite-relationship in its early stages. So, instead of letting him in on the details of what may or may not have been going on in her love life, she let him squirm a little longer, holding out until she heard him sigh loudly and grumble something about her ability to self-sabotage. Only then did she finally pull down on the string to part the curtains, barely managing to contain her laugher as Luka sighed in relief.
After that was truly her favourite part of her mornings.
Marinette was already outside when the curtains parted, but she hadn’t yet noticed her audience. She circled one of the outdoor display racks, making sure the flowers were arranged just so and refilling baskets from the giant white pail hanging from her arm as needed.
Some days she wouldn’t notice Kagami watching at all—she’d be too lost in her head. On those days, Kagami would enjoy Marinette’s secret smiles nearly as much as the ones directed at her.
But today Kagami was lucky.
When her bucket was nearly empty, Marinette glanced over at the tattoo shop, instantly locking eyes with Kagami. Marinette’s smile widened as she bit down on her lip and glanced to the side, the sun tossing rainbows off of her hair. Kagami smiled back, waiting until Marinette stole another glance her way to offer a small wave. Marinette returned the gesture, smiling before she tucked her hair behind her ears and hurried inside her shop.
After that, Kagami couldn’t have cared less about Luka affectionately calling her a useless lesbian as he sat back down at his desk. Her mind was still stuck on Marinette’s smile.
Evenings were Kagami’s favourite time in the flower shop.
Tonight, when she walked in, Marinette was in the middle of inventory. She walked down the aisle nearest Kagami, humming along softly to whatever song was playing through her airpods. Her pencil darted through the air, pointing to pots of white geraniums before marking down a number on her clipboard. She then walked back to the end of the aisle and started counting the pale pink flowers. It drove Kagami a bit crazy, from an efficiency standpoint, that she didn’t separate the pots by colour. But when Kagami had pointed that out once, Marinette had only scoffed, claiming she had no concept of aesthetic.
Not like art was how Kagami made a living or anything.
By the time Marinette returned to the end of the aisle a third time—for the magenta geraniums—Kagami was biting back laughter. She’d never quite seen anyone tune out the rest of the world the way Marinette could when she was in the zone. It was endearing to watch the way her head bopped along to her music, or how the skirt of her black babydoll dress swung a little faster as she neared Kagami again.
Of course, her coordination only went so far. When she finally did catch sight of Kagami out of the corner of her eye, she shrieked and whirled around, fumbling for her airpods and nearly bashing her clipboard into a bunch of pots until Kagami intervened, taking it from her hands. Then she steadied Marinette by the elbow before she tripped right over herself.
“Hello,” Kagami said once Marinette had shoved her headphones into her apron pocket. “Having fun?”
“You could have told me you were here,” Marinette scolded, though there was a playful glimmer in her eyes.
“Hmm…I could have. But you work much faster when you don’t know I’m here. Maybe I just wanted you to hurry up and finish so I wouldn’t have to share you with the flowers.”
Kagami still had Marinette by the elbow, so she let her fingers brush gently down Marinette’s forearm until their hands met. Then Kagami was the one feeling shy as she glanced down at their intertwined fingers.
Marinette laughed shakily, then squeezed Kagami’s hand once before letting go and taking a step back. Kagami felt tingles travel from her fingertips all the way up her arm, and she had to keep herself from instinctively reaching out again as Marinette reclaimed her clipboard.
“Unfortunately, I just started,” Marinette said, flipping over the top page and running a finger down her list. “It’s not a long count today, but” —she glanced up through her lashes— “you’ll have to share me at least a little longer.”
Kagami tried not to feel too disappointed. “Shall I go get us some dinner, then? I was going to try out the new dumpling place around the corner.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“Any requests?”
“Surprise me!” Marinette stared at her feet for a moment before glancing up shyly, tapping her fingers against her clipboard. “You’re pretty good at that, after all.”
Kagami knew all too well how that felt.
When she walked back into the shop, Kagami made sure to jingle the bell a few times—sneaking up on Marinette twice in one day seemed like overkill. She was met with a wide smile as she hefted the take-out bag above her head.
“I’m almost done!” Marinette called over. “Why don’t you set up, and I’ll be there in a few.”
“Sounds good.”
The front counter was where they usually ate their meals—it was spacious enough, and Marinette had a thing about letting customers into the back. She’d let Kagami in once, but had seemed in edge the whole time. Kagami hadn’t pressed the issue again.
Kagami set down the food and moved a few binders out of the way before unpacking the dumplings. She’d opted to get a few of her favourite kinds to share, knowing Marinette wasn’t picky. Still, it felt like a test of some sort. What if she’d somehow picked wrong?
What if she’d read this whole situation wrong?
It had been months since the first time Kagami had wandered in after close, just meaning to tell whoever was inside that they’d left the front door open. That time Marinette had been distracted by music too, but instead of doing inventory she’d been seated at the counter, sketching what looked to be a formal gown.
“Ah. Well…I went to school for design, actually,” Marinette explained some time after Kagami had managed to assure her she hadn’t come in to steal anything. “But I ended up hating the industry when I did internships. The people were just…” She wrinkled her nose. “And with smaller companies…well, I just wanted something with more human interaction, I guess. And my parents had always hinted that they wouldn’t mind if I took over the old family business, so…” She shrugged. “I still design, but it’s for me, you know?”
Kagami had sketchbooks full of tattoo designs she’d never use for anyone and wouldn’t trust anyone else to tattoo her with, so…yeah. She understood.
But what was equal parts fascinating and infuriating were all the things she didn’t understand about Marinette. Like the way she could ramble on for a minute straight and not remember half of what she’d said. Or how she refused to order roses; Kagami didn’t know much about the floristry business, but she suspected roses normally brought in a lot of profit.
Marinette never seemed bothered about money, though. She hired more staff than she needed, and sometimes she closed the shop for a week straight with no notice. Sometimes Kagami swore she ran the flower shop more for something to do than to make a living, but she’d never been able to tell for sure—Marinette was evasive when it came to those sorts of questions.
But tonight Kagami didn’t feel like dwelling on that. She set out the dumplings, dragged the extra stool out from under the counter, and moved the tiny vase Marinette kept on the front counter to the middle of their make-shift dinner table. The flower inside always changed, and today was a single pink peony. As a final touch, Kagami opened one of the drawers and pulled out a handful of fake tealights, switching them on and scattering them around the edge. Then Kagami stepped back to admire her work.
With everything carefully arranged, she could almost convince herself this was a date. Almost.
Every time Kagami tried to initiate an actual date, Marinette pretended she hadn’t heard or understood. Kagami had been pretty clear with her wording, but only Marinette could respond to the question, “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” by going on a full-on rant about how dates—the fruits—weren’t really as healthy as everyone thought they were.
Kagami was losing her mind.
Because it wasn’t like Marinette seemed uninterested; she was the one who invited Kagami over to the shop every evening when their work schedules overlapped; she was the first person to text Kagami most mornings and the last one at night; she was the one who’d drawn up seventeen different versions of a formal suit to try and “fit Kagami’s vibes”.
Beyond that, the sheer amount of casual touching and hand-holding Marinette initiated didn’t seem platonic, especially when combined with the lingering glances and over-the-top laughter every time Kagami made a joke—she wasn’t that funny.
Despite all that, Kagami still couldn’t figure out where they stood.
“That smells so good,” Marinette said as she hung up her apron behind the counter and walked up behind Kagami’s stool.
Kagami had to agree, although it had little to do with the dumplings—she’d just gotten a whiff of Marinette’s shampoo as she leaned over Kagami’s shoulder. And when Marinette winked in her direction as she sank into her seat, Kagami was completely done for.
Dinner was nothing too special. The dumplings were decent, but they both agreed they’d had better. The conversation flowed easily, but mostly revolved around superficial accounts of their days. It wasn’t until Kagami got hot and decided to shrug off her jacket that things got a little more…interesting.
“Wow,” Marinette whispered, setting down her chopsticks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show that much skin before.” There was a moment of silence where Kagami swore she could feel her heart trying to beat its way out of her chest. “I mean, the tattoos!” Marinette clarified. “I’m not looking at your skin! I mean, I’m not not looking, but—”
Kagami laughed. “I don’t mind if you look.” Her stomach swirled from their proximity already, but she decided to take another chance. “You even can touch if you want to.”
She held out her arm, and after a second Marinette gently grabbed her wrist, turning it and ghosting soft fingertips up the side. Kagami held back a shiver, watching as Marinette examined her tattoos. She didn’t have a coordinated sleeve, but rather a bunch of individual pieces which fit together in Kagami’s own version of aesthetic. Marinette explored them mostly in silence, occasionally offering compliments on the ones she liked.
“Do they…mean anything?” Marinette asked after a minute or so, her fingers pausing near the top of Kagami’s shoulder. She winced before Kagami could answer. “Sorry, you must get asked that question all the time. My one friend always says she hates it when everyone asks.”
“You’re not everyone,” Kagami said. “I don’t mind if you ask. Although…to be honest, no. Most of them are just…things I thought would be cool, or pieces I needed to fill the gaps.” She hesitated, then added, “When I was younger…my mother had a very particular ideas about how she wanted my future to turn out. There are still a lot of things I prefer to be done a certain way, and it bugs me when things don’t go according to plan. But with my tattoos…” She shrugged. “They’re art. I don’t think about them too much.”
“That’s cool.” Marinette was silent for a moment. “I knew someone like that, once. Someone who had his whole life figured out and then decided to go his own way.”
She smiled, but something passed through her eyes, a certain sadness Kagami had only seen on occasion. It was gone before Kagami could ask if she was alright, replaced with a forced sort of smile.
“I think he would have liked you,” Marinette finished.
Kagami didn’t get to ask what would have meant, either, because then Marinette slipped off her stool and walked behind Kagami, her hand slipping around to Kagami’s shoulder blade, then gliding down the middle of her back.
“Wow. Your back piece is…wow.”
Kagami smiled. The tattoo took up most of her upper back, and featured a dragon with its wings spread wide, bold and unafraid. “I’m rather fond of that one too.”
Marinette’s fingers traced those lines for a while, driving Kagami somewhat insane, before she spoke again. “Do you have a favourite tattoo?”
That was easy. “I have a dagger on my inner thigh.”
Marinette inhaled sharply, moving around to study Kagami’s other arm and bringing her back into view. Her fingers swept over Kagami’s shoulder, stopping on a tattoo of a woman’s face.
“Is that an ex?” Marinette asked. Her voice was mostly teasing, but there was a slight edge which made Kagami laugh again, though she was very conscious of how one of Marinette’s fingers slipped a little farther down her spine as her body shook.
“Do you really think I’m that sort of person?” Kagami asked. “That would be about a thousand times worse than getting a partner’s name tattooed.” She shook her head, still laughing. “She’s not anyone. Just a pretty girl.” Kagami glanced sideways, smirking. “And I happen to like pretty girls.”
“Ah. Well…she’s beautiful.” Marinette’s breath tickled the side of Kagami’s neck, and Kagami shut her eyes to keep another shiver at bay.
You’re beautiful, Kagami wanted to say, but she didn’t quite have the courage.
When Marinette got to the rose on the inside of Kagami’s wrist, her grip stiffened. She stared at it for a long time before asking in quiet voice, “Does the rose mean anything?”
Kagami hesitated. Roses, for whatever reason, were one of those things Marinette was weird about. And not in the cute quirky way Marinette was weird about a lot of things, but rather a sad and somewhat detached sort of weirdness Kagami had come to hate seeing.
“No,” Kagami said slowly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” She studied Marinette, who didn’t seem to have moved since she’d found the rose. “You don’t like roses, do you?”
Marinette let out a weak laugh, finally dropping Kagami’s wrist. “What gave me away, the fact that I’m a florist who can’t bring myself to sell them?”
Kagami didn’t answer, turning to keep her eyes on Marinette as she walked back to her seat and sat down facing Kagami’s stool.
“It’s not exactly that I don’t like them,” Marinette said. “It’s just that…” She sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes. Kagami ached to reach for her hands, but she didn’t dare to.
“My late husband used to buy them for me.” Marinette smiled, her eyes still closed. “It was this whole thing, too. Um…” She bowed her head and rubbed her hands against her thighs, her skirt bunching up a little as she did so. Kagami waited for her to continue, but she just shook her head.
“I’m so sorry,” Kagami said. “I had no idea. I didn’t mean to…if you don’t want to tell me about it, then—”
Marinette’s eyes flew open. “No. I want to, I just…It might take me a minute.”
A part of Kagami wanted to run. She’d never been all that good with other people’s emotions, especially since she never knew what to do to make them better. But even if she weren’t too old for that kind of behaviour, she cared too much about Marinette. So she simply leaned forwards and let her fingers dangle in the space between the two stools, hoping against all hope that Marinette would accept her meagre offer of comfort.
“Take your time.”
Marinette glanced up briefly, offering another strained smile. “It’s not usually this hard to tell people anymore. But this…you…it’s different.”
Despite everything, Kagami felt her chest flutter at the admission. It didn’t get any better when Marinette did reach forward and take her hand. Marinette’s other hand gripped her own knee so hard that Kagami saw white spots imprinted there when she let go to wipe away a few tears.
Another stuttered laugh passed through Marinette’s lips. “I told myself I wouldn’t cry, but...” She wiped a few more tears. “It started on our first date. Our mutual friends set us up—remember Alya and Nino? I think I’ve told you about them.”
Kagami nodded, not that Marinette was paying much attention.
“So,” Marinette continued, “naturally, I assumed that since he and Nino were close, he knew what I did for work—at the time I was still in university, working part time at my parents’ shop. But I guess there was some sort of mix-up when Nino told him what I was studying versus my job, and he didn’t realize I literally see flowers all the time. And so this guy comes into my shop like…two minutes before closing. And he seems nice enough, but I’m trying to leave.”
Marinette laughed, and this time the sound was less hollow. This time it was full enough to fill Kagami up a little bit too. “And this guy spends like fifteen minutes rambling on and on about the language of flowers and how he wants to make a good first impression, and how he wants to go with red roses but, ‘maybe that’s too cliche,’ and about a hundred other things.
“He was perfectly nice the whole time, but I swear by the time he finally decided on the roses, I was almost ready to cancel my date I was so annoyed. And then I make it up to my apartment after finally locking up to find out my date’s an hour early…and carrying the exact bouquet of red roses I just sold him.”
Kagami wasn’t sure how to feel by that point, so she found herself mirroring Marinette’s reactions. She returned a tiny smile and squeezed back when Marinette’s grip tightened momentarily on hers.
“After that,” Marinette said, “he’d come by the shop every time we had a date night and make sure to buy a bouquet from me beforehand—and I do mean every time.” She laughed, then sobered. She took a moment to collect herself. “We’d usually give them away to someone along our way…try to brighten up someone else’s day, you know?”
Kagami nodded. Marinette was just sweet that way—it was no surprise that whoever she’d been married to was the same way.
Married. Widowed.
There was no time for Kagami to wrap her head around that before Marinette continued.
“It was…a car accident. Drunk driver. The doctors said it was fast, that he probably didn’t feel any pain. But that night…I was waiting for him to show up at the flower shop, like always.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “And he didn’t, um. He never showed, so…”
Marinette pulled her hand away, wiping more tears while Kagami sat there, stunned. Feeling a little guilty for the way her heart still beat a little faster from sitting so close.
But then Marinette spoke again. “I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it’s…hard. The idea of moving on is…” She bit her lip. “But I want to. That’s why I sold my parent’s shop. I needed to be somewhere I didn’t imagine him walking around every corner. I needed somewhere without roses.”
She looked up and locked eyes with Kagami. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks streaked with tears. But she was still beautiful—maybe even more so than before.
“I really like you,” Marinette said. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to date right now, as much as I might want to be.”
That time, Kagami didn’t hold herself back from wiping Marinette’s tears away.
Kagami had two days off before she saw Marinette again, and she was uncharacteristically on edge the whole time. She couldn’t stop wondering if Marinette was texting her less than usual. She couldn’t keep herself from replaying Marinette’s story over and over again, wondering if there was something else she should have done or said differently.
She couldn’t help but hear the words, “I really like you,” play through her mind in a hundred different ways, each a little more terrifying than the last.
Kagami didn’t fall in love very often. She normally didn’t feel that strongly for people in general. She had no idea what it must feel have felt like to lose that so suddenly.
Suffice to say it was a long two days, and Marinette was still at the forefront of Kagami’s mind as she walked to work on her first morning back. Would Marinette would want to see her? Should she give Marinette some space or drop by the shop later like nothing had changed?
She nearly dropped her tea when she turned the corner to see Marinette leaning back against the door to the tattoo shop, a pink flower in her hand.
A pink rose, Kagami realized as she approached, hastily shoving her travel mug into her tote bag as she went. Of course her coordination failed her in that moment, and it took her no less than five tries to finally shove it inside. She raised her gaze when Marinette giggled.
All Kagami could do was smile stupidly as Marinette walked forwards, twirling the rose.
“Hi,” Marinette whispered when she stopped. “You look nice.”
Kagami didn’t look any different than any other day—well, maybe she’d gotten a haircut yesterday to distract herself from the nerves, but that was no big difference. Marinette was the one who looked radiant, wearing a pale pink suspender skirt over a white blouse, with her hair pulled into a bun like she’d just stepped off the runway.
Okay, maybe Kagami was a little biased.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said.
“I…thought a lot about you the past few days,” Marinette admitted. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, really. And I know I said I needed time, but I…” She glanced down at the rose, biting down on her lip for a moment before offering it to Kagami.
Their fingers brushed as Marinette passed the rose over, and neither of them pulled away as Marinette continued.
“Red roses were Adrien’s thing. And I think maybe they’ll always be his thing. But…” She took a deep breath. “I meant what I said the other day. That I want to move on. And I…If you’re interested, I’d like to do that with you. I can’t promise you it’ll be easy, or that I’m entirely ready for this, or…” She shook her head. “I really can’t promise you much. I just know…I know I want to try.”
For a moment, the world stopped. There was only the feeling of a thorn poking dully into Kagami’s thumb, the sound of a bird chirping overhead, and the way she could see the rose reflected in Marinette’s pupils—when had they gotten so close?
“I would like that,” Kagami said. “And I don’t mind taking things slow.” She glanced down at the flower, wondering what it must have taken for Marinette to order that. She tightened her fingers around Marinette’s, gently pushing the rose back against her chest. “But I don’t need roses. I just want you.”
“Alright.” Marinette leaned in even closer.
Kagami’s heart pounded, her eyes narrowing in on the pale sheen of Marinette’s lipgloss. It smelled of vanilla, and Kagami couldn’t help but wonder if it would taste the same.
“Can I kiss you?” she whispered.
Instead of answering, Marinette stepped forward and cupped her cheek. Kagami was frozen as Marinette traced her fingers along her jawline, stopping with her thumb pressed right against Kagami’s bottom lip, a mischievous look in her eye. Kagami closed the distance, the rose dangling from both of their fingers.
The kiss was short and sweet, promising of more to come.
And when Kagami invited Marinette in afterwards to sit with her while she prepared for the day, that was just one more reason to love mornings in the tattoo shop.