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Marinette gulped down the last bit of liquid in her cup, slamming it down on the table as she let out a long, steady breath. "Okay, I'm ready for my lessons!"
Then, blushing when she noticed that the cup made a louder sound than intended, she raised it up and gently set it back down again. It wasn't glass or ceramic, thankfully.
Luka chuckled, taking his time with his own drink but delighted by the enthusiasm. Leaning calmly against the couch, he asked, "Do you want to get the guitar? It's under my bed."
She nodded, pushing off her seat in what was almost a bounce as she headed into the Couffaine siblings' room. In the back of her mind, she thought it was odd to put his guitar there when he usually played it all the time, but perhaps she couldn't understand his thought process when he was in "music instructor" mode. She supposed it could've been like a ritual to get her in the right mood by having her take the guitar out of herself, or he had so many guitars that he'd started reserving the one she practiced with only for music lessons.
The worst case scenario was that her bad luck had rubbed off on his poor guitar and it had to be sealed away so as to not affect the others. Alternatively, what if she was such a bad player that she'd ruined the poor instrument and Luka had to hide it away in shame until their lessons?
However, when she crouched down and pulled out the drawer under his bed, she saw not his guitar, but something large, rectangular, and encased in wrapping paper that was bright pink with white flowers. She stayed there for a solid few seconds, stunned, then gave it a poke just to make sure it was really there.
She heard a set of footsteps off to the side and looked up to see Luka, leaning against the doorframe with his cup in hand. He said nothing, taking a small sip and looking at her with an expectant smile.
Marinette's heart skipped a beat at the implications. She stared at the object - the gift - in disbelief, muttering more to herself than him, "For me...?"
Slowly, she reached inside the drawer, slipping her fingers under each side of the present. Standing up carefully, she lifted it, only briefly thrown off by the weight distribution. She had expected it to weigh the same on both sides, but it remained heavier on one of them.
"It's really big," she said a little anxiously. "You didn't break the bank, did you? I know you have a job, but..."
He took another sip instead of answering. Whatever her concerns were, he didn't share them.
Setting the gift down on the bed, she hesitated, then picked it up again to turn it upside-down. There, she saw the edge of the wrapping paper and slipped her hand underneath, moving it from one side to the other and carefully peeling the tape as she went. It would be easier to tear the wrapping paper to pieces, but she didn't want to leave a mess of torn bits on Luka's bed, even if she knew he wouldn't have cared.
With all tape removed, she undid and spread the wrapping paper fully out, revealing a pure white box underneath. She flipped it around again so she could grab the top, then held her breath and pulled it off in one motion.
Said breath promptly left her as she saw the contents: a gorgeous pink guitar that she had never seen before. She dropped the box's top to the floor in shock and touched the instrument all over, plucking the strings, turning the tuning pegs, and running her hand along the curves. Most notable of all was what she was certain was her flower pattern adorning the front, but it didn't feel like a sticker that had been merely slapped onto it.
This was her guitar, she realized. She'd initially wondered if claiming there was a guitar under his bed was just the pretext for giving her a gift, but it was the real deal; there was a guitar under his bed, and it was a gift for her.
"It's—Luka, it's—I mean, wow—" She winced at herself, finding it hard to say anything coherent when she was getting all choked up. "I-it's beautiful. It must've cost you a fortune."
"I didn't buy it," he told her, then added playfully, "I didn't steal it either."
She looked back and forth between him and the guitar, mind racing to catch up with that information. He joked around sometimes, so she could've interpreted that someone else bought it for him and he paid them back, meaning he wasn't technically lying, but she knew that wasn't the case, which meant...
"You—you made it?" She pulled away and put a hand to her mouth. "I didn't even know you made instruments!"
"I didn't." He tipped his cup to his lips, drinking the last bit of liquid, then smiled warmly at her. "Not until now."
The implication hit her like a—well, she would've liked to think 'truck,' but that had already happened with the revelation that he'd made her an entire guitar. Her mind was spinning too much to try and come up with a proper metaphor, like having a plane dropped onto her after she got hit by the truck, or a steady stream of trucks all running her over in succession.
"It's my first one," Luka confirmed, eyes soft as he gazed upon it with her. "I've practiced before and made smaller stuff, but this is the real deal. I did the best that I could and I know it's not perfect—"
He kept talking, but it was hard to listen to such utter nonsense. Sure, she wasn't an expert on guitars or anything, but not perfect?! It was the sweetest, most thoughtful gift she'd ever received! As a creative force herself, she knew what it meant to make something from one's own passion and give it to someone else; it was like giving a piece of yourself to them.
Her eyes scanned the guitar up and down, no longer feeling worthy of touching it. She felt like she should hang it on a wall somewhere, but it would fall and break into pieces considering how things usually went for her. Sealing it away in an unbreakable box with ten locks would be best to preserve it, where she could open it occasionally to admire but never touch it.
"...It's really for me?"
She was in such a state of awe that even Luka started showing a bit of shyness, blushing faintly and averting his gaze. "You earned it after everything you put into our lessons."
Her face scrunched up, eyes narrowed at him in healthy skepticism as she gestured at his work. "You mean all the times I hurt your ears with how bad I was?"
He shook his head. "I wasn't perfect when I picked up a guitar my first time either, and you did everything right. You listened, you learned, and you followed whatever I did."
He said it as though it truly meant something to him when she hadn't seen it as any big deal. He was an amazing teacher, so it was easy to pay attention while he talked, to copy the movements he'd make with his deft fingers, and remember the positions he'd show her by guiding her hands with his own.
It wasn't just a reward for all of her efforts, but a gift from someone who kept surprising her with how much effort he put towards her. If she imagined her relationships with people like the cup in Luka's hand, she'd given each person she knew a cup of a particular size and they'd pour in what they were willing to put forth to her.
He was the only one who continuously caused his respective cup to overflow, and she teared up at the thought of him.
Luka frowned, leaving his place by the doorframe to stand at her side. "Marinette... if it's too much—"
She grabbed the lapel of his jacket and he shut his mouth, staring confusedly at her hand there. He was taller than her, so she had to pull him down somewhat and get on her tiptoes to kiss him.
It was featherlight, barely lasting a split second, but she heard the clatter of his cup against the floor nonetheless. She blushed faintly, dusting off the lapel like she'd left dirt on it and dropping her gaze.
Clearing her throat, she asked, "Um, is our next lesson about putting our feelings into music? I could—ah—really use it."
She had too much energy bundled up inside, yet no urge to move away. She shifted on her feet, tracing the toe of her shoe against the lines on the floor as she waited for some form of reaction.
When she saw Luka's own shoes come towards her, her heart skipped a beat. Fingertips brushed her bangs aside and she looked up just in time to see his toothy grin before he planted a small kiss on her forehead.
"Me too," he agreed, looking extremely self-satisfied as he pulled back. "Maybe you can give me some lessons when we're done."
She tilted her head while he walked off as coolly as always, though she noted that he completely forgot about the cup on the floor. She bent down to pick it up and put her other hand to her forehead, wondering what he meant since he certainly didn't need any lessons on music from her.
Her eyes flicked to the cup, eyeing the rim where Luka had been drinking from. Realization struck a second later, the hand on her forehead dropping to her mouth instead.
Oh.