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"Luka, do you believe in soulmates?"
Luka nearly stumbled after that question left Marinette's mouth. While conversation was common between them on their walks - regardless of if it was a walk to go somewhere together, a walk to find inspiration, or a walk to simply walk - he hadn't expected a topic like that.
Just about anyone wouldn't, actually, not when a vast majority of the population had soulmate marks. Luka himself sported one, as did Marinette.
He looked to her for clarification, but her gaze was distant, drawn up towards the sky like it might give her whatever answer she was looking for. Wanting to consider her question seriously, he asked, "Are you talking about destiny?"
"No ...maybe?" Her brows furrowed and she appeared just as confused as him by her own thought process. Throwing a hand out in exasperation, she tried again, "We're chosen. That's the idea, right? Because someone, or the universe, or something did it?"
"Yeah?" He supposed that was accurate even if he didn't know himself. No one could ever agree on the true cause and evidence was nonexistent, so it was largely left up to interpretation.
More religiously-inclined individuals would call it a God giving people a sign of their all-knowing nature, or giving their approval of two people being together. Depending on one's view, that theory ranged from being about a holy entity asserting their omnipotence to being about the most powerful shipper to ever exist trying to pair up the population to their liking.
For others, it was just a force of the universe, whether a conscious one or not. The way the marks changed as cultures did could answer questions about that, or it may only add them.
Some theories left it down to the individual: that people were magical or that their souls called out and found another, which ultimately manifested in a soulmate mark.
Luka didn't know, and it wasn't something that kept him up at night. The pondering of why soulmate marks existed and what they truly meant held about as much weight to him as why some random person on the other side of the world chose to eat an apple instead of an orange that day.
Of course, it wasn't always like that. There was a time when he was younger when he looked at the mark near Marinette's elbow, listening to her ramble excitedly about who her soulmate might be and what kind of person she hoped they were, and he felt jealous. He'd loved her knowingly for years, probably loved her unknowingly even longer, but he was happy.
In a way, not being her soulmate meant that she had no incentive or suggestion to be close to him beyond enjoying his company. That alone held great value to him, and he liked the simplicity: importance to someone without need of a fancy fate tattoo slapped on at birth to show for it.
"Ugh," Marinette groaned, running both hands down her face. "I get a headache whenever I think about it. It doesn't make sense."
"Which part?"
"Mm..." She pouted. "The good part?"
He still wasn't following, though he did like hearing her talk. He was happy to be her black-and-blue rubber duck if she needed it.
"Everyone thinks that soulmate marks are soooo great," she continued with an edge to her voice, waving her arms wildly, "but they don't always think about who, or what, or whatever's behind it! What if it—"
"Look out."
Luka caught a glimpse of what was about to happen just in time, reaching out to grab her shoulder and pull her back, the honest-to-God cream pie that'd fallen from above splattering on the sidewalk below. He looked up to lock gazes with the person who'd appeared to either accidentally drop or knock it over, but they were already ducking back inside in embarrassment.
Giving a quick glance at her shoes to confirm that the pie didn't get on them, his eyes went to her face next. "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer, staring solemnly at the dessert on the ground, though that may have not been entirely accurate. It almost appeared as if she were looking at things all around it that weren't actually there.
He knew then what was happening in her mind before she spoke again.
"What if it doesn't care about you or thinks you're a joke? What if it gave you a soulmate just for a laugh?"
Marinette had never had good luck. Having known her since they were both kids, Luka knew that for a fact. He'd become so used to it that anticipating and preventing whatever insanely unlucky moments he could was like muscle memory to him. His body simply felt the signs and acted on its own.
Thus, her conclusion didn't come as anything strange to him, however depressing it sounded. The thought that there was some higher being taking delight in... whatever this was, it didn't sound impossible.
Cautious with suspicion of what her answer may be, he asked, "Did something happen with him?"
He normally wouldn't say anything about that relationship, nor do so much as to speak the boy's name. After countless times of watching Marinette lamenting some perceived failure that was, more often than not, either terrible luck or the universe personally spiting her, he stopped bringing it up. It made her miserable to talk about it and he had a dog in the proverbial race, so it was convenient for both of them if he kept quiet.
No matter how much he wanted and also didn't want to know how it was going or if any sparks were flying, that was her business and he would only pry if he felt it necessary. Most of what he knew was simply that she had seen the soulmate mark by accident and her soulmate had yet to see hers.
"Ha," she scoffed, turning her face away from him. "Nothing happened, that's the problem."
She went to keep walking, not feeling right standing in the same place on the sidewalk, and nearly stepped in the fallen pie before he caught her shoulder again. She tossed him a grateful look and they continued their walk side-by-side.
"I just wanted to get to know him better! Isn't it normal to want to know what your soulmate is like?" She huffed, face pinkening in shame. "But any time I try to talk to him, it all comes out wrong and it doesn't make any sense, and not even in a way that makes sense!"
She held her hands out, feigning holding a box.
"And the other day, I put a box of my parents' macarons on his desk with a note on it, but Chloe took it and told him they were from her! He even bought it!" She stopped talking, squinting at nothing as she turned to him and corrected, "Her story, not the macarons."
He nodded along and let her continue.
"Anyway!" She faced the sky with a glare, fists tight against her chest. "Like Chloe would ever be caught dead in my parents' bakery. She wouldn't even take the time out to buy a gift herself unless it was for herself!"
He chuckled, though there was sympathy too. He couldn't imagine what was crazier of a thought: that Marinette's parents would sell to their daughter's bully, or that someone would be unaware enough to believe such a story in the first place. The macarons couldn't have been that good.
Head tilted up towards the sky, she clasped her hands together behind her back and sighed. "Maybe my standards for guys are too high, or I'm missing something about soulmates. That's why I asked." Eyes drifting towards where her partly hidden mark was, she grumbled, "I don't think it's a coincidence anymore that it's where my funny bone is..."
Luka hummed, a question lingering in his mind but not one that was relevant to hers: in all of his knowing her, she'd never dated anyone, so he couldn't imagine where her "standards for guys" had come from, but he thought better of saying it aloud.
Turning his head to look at the rest of the world, so far removed from the little bubble they'd crafted for each other, Luka took in their surroundings: the pigeons flying overhead, the cars passing by, and a couple having snacks at a table outside a cafe. His lips twitched at the latter sight as a thought occurred to him.
"Do you remember when we were kids?" He met her confused gaze. "My favorite Jagged Stone song was Bottomless. I thought it was the deepest song I ever heard."
Marinette snorted, a delightful noise that he always loved hearing. "And when he got asked what it meant, he said..."
With a dramatic groan hearkening back to the emotions of his childhood self, he lamented, "That he was hungry when he wrote it."
Her chest heaved as she snorted again, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. It was all in good fun and he had fond memories of her comforting him at the time as if the revelation had destroyed his psyche, wanting to protect his innocence.
"I was devastated," he half-joked as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "but then I realized that it didn't matter."
Her laugh cut off with a choke, shocked by the statement. He didn't blame her, as he'd never really expressed the thought to anyone before.
And Luka Couffaine, not caring what Jagged Stone had to say about his own song? Unheard of.
"It didn't change how I felt about it, or what it meant to me," he explained. "Just because he was the one who made it didn't mean I had to see it the way he did."
Marinette was smart, and he could see the parallel clicking in her head. His thoughts on Jagged's song were much like his thoughts on his mark, or soulmate marks in general, in that he couldn't care less about anyone else's theories or ideas about them. Maybe his mark genuinely meant that the person with a matching mark was destined to be with him, or the exact opposite. Perhaps it was a warning about someone he could never get along with, or there was no person at all who matched his mark.
But he knew how he felt. He knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with a nonconsensual tattoo he had on his neck.
"What about you, Marinette? What do you want your mark to mean?"
They came to a crosswalk, the warning sign flashing red. Stopping along with her, Luka's hands fell back to his sides as he waited for Marinette's response. Her gaze was locked to her feet, which shifted against the sidewalk while she mulled over her answer.
"...I don't want it to mean anything. My life's already complicated enough without thinking about what I'm supposed to do about it," she decided. "I don't need a soulmate either, just something simple: someone to talk to, someone who comforts me like I comfort them..."
"I think that sounds great." He beamed, charmed by the promised simplicity.
She continued, voice quieting, "...someone to go on walks with."
...Wait.
She gripped the bottom of her shirt with the hand furthest from him, tangling her finger in the fabric. "Someone to hold hands with..."
Then he felt it. It was the lightest of touches, but he knew with certainty the feeling of her other hand's knuckles brushing his. The way her face pinked at her cheeks only supported that.
It was a question in the form of physical contact: Do you want this? Is this okay?
Without having realized, Luka had fallen into the trap of assuming everything about soulmates without meaning to, contrary to his own opinion. Marinette had put so much weight onto it when they were kids that he didn't dare to imagine anything else but that she wanted them romantically.
Had she really just wanted to get to know them? Or had she wanted him to be sure that she wasn't interested in them first? Was that why she'd asked him in the first place? To know whether it would matter to him or not?
A car driving by, causing wind to rustle their hair, brought Luka back to reality. Not wanting to be misunderstood for even an instant, he took her hand in his and brought it to his chest, holding it there so she could feel his heartbeat.
She gasped, but didn't pull away, staring at their joined hands in awe.
"What else?" he asked, sending every implication at her through his tone.
"Ah—" The pink on her cheeks spread further along her face, but she still answered, "S-someone who will touch my face, like..."
She trailed off, lost for a way to describe it, but Luka needed no further instruction. Taking a single step to be even closer to her, he raised his free hand. Fingers bent, he glided the backs along Marinette's cheek, a pleasant heat coming off of it.
"Anything else?"
She opened her mouth, paused to swallow, then gave him a hopeful smile. With only a hint of shyness this time, she requested, "Kiss me."
He did, his hand going from her cheek to the back of her head as their lips met. Cars continued to pass by, but he couldn't hear them over his heart pounding so loud he could feel it in his skull.
"Lu—" Marinette started to say, but whatever it was must not've been more important than kissing him. She tightened her grip on the hand he'd been holding, the other pulling at his jacket to keep him close.
As if he would've ever gone anywhere but right in front of her. The mere thought baffled him.
When they pulled away, hands still intertwined, it took Luka a few seconds for the world to come back into focus. The crosswalk sign signaled that they could walk now, but he couldn't say for sure whether it had done that recently or if they'd been kissing for so long that they'd missed a prior chance to cross. He couldn't bring himself to care either, not when she held his hand like it was something precious.
She smiled gorgeously at him and tugged him along. He followed after her eagerly, silently wondering if she had any further "requirements" that he could meet.