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As Marinette walks to the coffee shop, she wonders if she should have just told Juleka no.
She’s never met Luka, surprisingly enough. Juleka mentions him all the time, always following it up with “you two would get along so well!” At first, it had been simply that: a comment that Marinette would pleasantly agree with and then move on with her day.
But within the last few weeks, Juleka has turned rather… sinister about it. Marinette suspects that it might be at Rose’s insistence, being a hopeless romantic and all. After forcing Juleka to confirm that she would not hate Marinette if the date went poorly, she’d said yes. (Rose had chimed in with a “but it won’t go poorly!”)
They’d finalized the plan last week. “Just meet him for coffee,” Juleka had said. “And then you guys can both come to the Christmas party after, and if you really want to, you can avoid him the entire time. No judgment here.”
Though Marinette has never met him, it’s easy enough to tell which one is Luka. He’s hunched over a table in the back, mulling over a cup of coffee. There’s another cup on the other end of the table with no one to drink it, presumably for her. Maybe he made a lucky guess and got her favorite, but she doubts it. Hopefully it’s not gross. What if he has bad taste in coffee? That’s definitely a dealbreaker.
He’s handsome. She’d already known that, since framed pictures of him have always decorated the Liberty. His hair looks faded and his dark roots have grown in. He looks as though he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, to be honest. It’s unfortunately something Marinette has felt, too.
She knows how this whole love thing goes. She’ll give it her all, as she always does, and then she’ll realize that they never actually liked her back halfway through her hundredth homemade gift. She’ll give and give, and they’ll take and take. It’s how it has always gone. And yet she keeps trying anyway.
She shakes her heard in an attempt to make the thoughts go away. It won’t go like that this time. It’ll just be one date, and then she and Luka can go back to their differing social circles. It’ll be like it never happened, except that Juleka and Rose will finally stop trying to set them up. So, in reality, Marinette is doing herself a favor by going on this date.
He looks up as she approaches the table, giving her a small smile. “Marinette,” he says, raising so that he can shake her hand and pull out her chair for her. It’s surprisingly formal, given the circumstances. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve only heard good things.”
“Thank you,” she replies, pleased. The idea of Juleka waxing poetry about her in an attempt to get Luka to agree to this date is … funny, but sweet. “Sorry if I’m a little late.” I had to convince myself to walk in the door in the first place.
“Don’t worry about it. I actually just sat down.” He lowers himself back into his seat, so she follows shortly. “I got you the mint mojito. Juleka yelled at me on my way out the door to tell me that it was your favorite.”
“That’s nice of her,” Marinette says, taking a sip. it’s refreshingly minty, and almost enough to make this whole encounter worthwhile. Wow. Juleka really wants this to go well, huh? Maybe Luka doesn’t go out much. “Thank you for buying.”
“Sure. I’ve heard I’m a great first date,” Luka says, with an uncomfortable little chuckle, as though embarrassed to admit that he has been on a date before. “I guess I’m just not a great second one.”
Well, that’s awkward, considering that Marinette’s plan for tomorrow is to dodge all of his messages and pretend that he doesn’t exist. It is painfully relatable, though. “Yeah, I’ve been there,” she says. “Pretty sure half the reason that Juleka advocated for this so hard is because she knows it’s just been me and my sewing machine for a while.”
“That’s right, I’ve heard you’re a wizard with fabric,” he says. She wonders how much he knows about her. After all, she’s been in Juleka’s social circle so long that she almost feels like she already knows him. He must feel the same. “Is it true that you’ve done commissions for Jagged Stone?”
“Oh, only a few,” Marinette replies, embarrassed. It’s a half-truth. She’s only done a few for Jagged Stone this year, after all. She lost track of her total Jagged Stone commissions in high school. “He’s been back in America for a few months so I haven’t had any requests from him lately. He did say that when he comes back he wants something ‘bangin’,’ though.”
“Well, you’ll have to keep me updated,” Luka says with a smile. She tries not to let the unspoken promise of future contact make her uncomfortable. “Jagged Stone’s my favorite artist, you know.”
“Hey, mine too!” At least there’s that.
They talk for a good thirty minutes about anything and everything. Where they went to high school, what their favorite holiday songs are, and what country they want to travel to the most. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to, and she finds herself opening up a lot more than she’d originally intended. He really is a good first date.
“I don’t know how you do it all,” Luka says. Marinette wonders if he’s impressed, and then berates herself for caring. “I mean - between your job, university, and all these side projects - it must be hard to have a social life, huh?”
“Oh, sure, but that’s mostly by design,” she replies. It hadn’t been until after The Incident that she’d opened up her commissions, desperate for something else to do besides overthink.
He tilts his head, considering. She realizes that perhaps she has said too much with just one sentence. “What do you mean by that?” He doesn’t sound judgmental, at least.
The topic that Marinette has been dreading all evening lurks at the surface, poking through the cracks of the facade that she’d been so carefully maintaining. But if nothing else, Luka seems understanding, and perhaps it’s something that she should mention anyways. “Oh, you know… I guess the reason Juleka and Rose have been so desperate to set us up is because I had a messy situation a while back. Nothing that I haven’t already moved past, for the record, but…” She drifts off, unwilling to disclose anything more.
All anybody else knows is that it had been between her and Adrien and it had been bad. Nobody knows about the identity reveal, the way that they’d never been able to reconcile their superhero identities with their civilian selves, or the fact that Adrien losing his father had made him desperate to lean on her when she was still learning how to function with Tikki freshly gone. It’s been so hard not to tell anyone - not even Alya knows. Not for lack of trying on her part, of course.
Luka nods, so unsurprised that she wonders if Juleka briefed him. “Yeah, um, I went through something similar. Though, funnily enough, Juleka’s been swearing that we’d get along great for longer than that.”
“She’s been doing that to me, too,” Marinette smiles. In the beginning of high school, Juleka really began to start opening up. Sure, she’ll always be an introvert, but it no longer seems like the mere act of speaking scares her. Unfortunately, the more she talked, the more she tried to set Marinette up with Luka. “Hey, speaking of Juleka, what time are we supposed to go over there?””
Luka checks the time on his watch. “Oh, man, the party started five minutes ago. Have we really been talking that long?”
It sure had gone by quickly. Ghosting him afterwards doesn’t make her feel as powerful as it did at the beginning of the date. Now it just feels… unfortunate. “Guess so,” she says with a smile. “I’m done with my coffee, if you want to head over now.”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” Luka says, and takes her hand to help her out of the seat. It’s unnecessary but charming, and she finds herself smiling the whole way to his bike.
When they pull up to the Liberty, Marinette takes a moment to marvel at how it looks.
The Couffaines (and let’s be honest, Rose as well) had really gone wild when it comes to decorations. The entire ship is lined with Christmas lights, the type that shine a multitude of different colors. There’s a Christmas tree on the deck, and what looks to be another one inside with lights twinkling through the window, and a mistletoe in the main doorway that she'll probably spend all night dodging. She hears the holiday music blasting the moment that they pull up, and, huh, Marinette had not even been aware that people made Christmas screamo songs.
“You guys really know how to party,” she comments, though it’s something she’s known for a while. She’s seen Instagram posts of the absolute rager they pulled off for Luka’s twentieth last year. Juleka had complained for weeks afterwards about vacuuming up all the confetti, especially since Anarka told her to leave it.
“It’s mostly my mother,” he tells her as he takes off his helmet. He waves over at the ship, and when Marinette looks back over she realizes that Juleka has noticed them and is waving too. She elbows Alya, who notices and catches the biggest grin. Oh, jeez. Marinette is definitely going to be interrogated in the bathroom later while Alya “fixes her makeup.” “When given the option to go big or go home, she always goes big.”
“Or goes big at home,” she muses. “Well, ready to face the music?”
Luka looks at her funny, but not in a bad way. Marinette can’t quite put her finger on it. Perplexed? Amused? “Sure,” he says, and leads the way.
Once the party starts to really get going, Marinette notices stuff about him that she hadn’t noticed before.
He holds his pinky up when he takes sips of his eggnog, and mouths the lyrics to the songs that play instead of singing them outright. He periodically looks around until he spots Juleka, as if making sure that she’s still comfortable with the amount of people that have amassed. He’s family-oriented like you, a voice in her head says. It’s hard to ignore. Her plan to never speak to him again after this sinks like a ship. She doesn’t want to do that anymore.
Shortly after dinner, she finds him in the kitchen washing dishes, away from the boisterous nature of the party. “Here,” she says, realizing she needs something to do with her hands, “let me. You can dry.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, not even arguing against letting a guest help. She wonders if he finds solace in one of the few types of tidiness that Anarka approves of. Washing the dishes could be soothing, she supposes: the warm water, the solitude, the smell of fruity dish soap.
For a moment, they wash and dry in silence, accompanied only by the clinking of dishes and the drawers opening as Luka puts the dried ones away. “You know,” he says after a while. “I kind of… didn’t want to go on our date this morning.”
Marinette stills. She’s spent all evening starting to like him, after all, and now it seems like he’ll shoot her down. Whatever. She’s strong, independent, and was fine this morning when she only knew of him. She’ll spend a day or two nursing her pride with macarons and then come out on the other side stronger than before. “Me too, actually,” she says, voice controllably casual. “To be fair, it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the concept of a date to begin with.”
“Exactly,” he says, as if pleased that she’s on the same page. Marinette tries not to let her heart crash into her stomach. “But… I had a super fun time. I think it's the most fun I’ve had in months. It’s something that I’d want to do again.”
Oh.
Oh.
She’s just glad that her hands are already wet from the faucet, so he can’t see how they’re sweating. She hesitates, scared to put herself out there. Romance has gone so horrifically bad for Marinette before, and not just the last time. But Luka has laid it open in bright bold letters. There’s little room for interpretation. “Me too,” she confirms, unintentionally repeating herself. “I mean, I would - I’d like to - I mean, only if you would…” Take a deep breath. This isn’t middle school. You’re an adult and the slightest bit of attention doesn’t need to make you nervous anymore. “I had a great time on our date today. I would like to go on another one. Another date.”
“Great,” Luka says, as if it’s that easy. Maybe it is. “Do you have plans for New Years?”
And just like that, Marinette is no longer dreading the freakout session with Alya in the bathroom. She now requires one.
A little after midnight, she begins to yawn between sentences. All the warm drinks and comfort food has only heightened her sleepiness as time has gone on, and she realizes that she’s daydreaming about being under the covers instead of paying attention to the conversation.
“Alright, I think I need to go home and crash,” she says eventually, once the music has long since stopped and the eggnog has run out. Alya and Nino had just bid their farewells, and it feels like the curtain is closing on tonight. “You sure you don’t need any help finishing cleaning?”
“You’ve done enough,” Juleka says, shaking her head. “I still can’t believe Luka let you clean up. That’s against everything us Couffaines stand for.”
“Well, I guess I’m hard to say no to,” Marinette responds. It’s meant to be a joke, but it ends up being softer than intended. She’ll blame it on the sleepiness, and definitely not the warmth in her heart that is starting to build whenever someone says Luka’s name.
“You’re going to call me tomorrow and tell me everything, right?” Juleka asks, similarly tender. “I’ll spend all night grilling him, after all.”
“Of course,” Marinette agrees. This is all because of Juleka. It’d be a shame to keep details from her. Well, most of the details. Some aspects of love are best left untouched by others. “Hey, be easy on him. I like him.”
“I always knew you would,” Juleka says, looking awfully smug. Marinette lets her. She deserves it, to be honest.
She’s barely out the door when Luka catches up to her. His eyes look as tired as hers must be, but his smile is wide. She offers him one in return. “Can I walk you home? I feel weird letting you walk alone at this time of night. Blame it on fragile masculinity.”
Marinette snorts out a laugh at that, since if she’s learned anything from Juleka’s comments over the years, Luka is the opposite of toxic masculinity. She continues to walk out the door before she verbally agrees, a quiet acceptance. “Sure. You’re comfortable heading back alone?” It’s not too long of a walk, anyways, so she lets herself assume that he will be fine. After all, she'd had no qualms about making the trek herself.
“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll have a finger over the #112 button the whole time.” If Marinette wasn’t so sure that it was an excuse to spend more time with her, she’d probably be more offended about only Luka being allowed to walk alone at night. Plus… she can’t deny that post-Ladybug has left her feeling vulnerable at the most random times. She doesn’t have superpowers anymore, after all.
“Excellent,” she says, trying to laugh even though her thoughts have gone dim. “Just make sure you don’t call by accident. I bet they get upset over that sort of thing.”
Luka launches into a story about how he accidentally called the police as a kid, which turns into a conversation about their childhoods in general. He tells her about the first song that he ever played properly on the guitar, so she tells him that the first article of clothing she ever made fell apart a day later. Talking to Luka is… easy. He’s quiet at times, sure, but he’s blunt about how he feels. She doesn’t have to worry about unintentionally upsetting him and never even knowing. After a few minutes, the conversation shifts into a comfortable silence.
In the quiet, Marinette almost mentions Adrien. Not in detail, since she simply doesn’t know Luka well enough for that, but enough. She almost says You should know that my entire idea of romance has burnt and died this year or sometimes I see him on billboards and get emotional about how such a long friendship rotted so fast. It would be a good idea for Luka to know, since it’s not like Adrien is a nobody that she can push into the background. And if it ever gets to the point where she tells him about once being Ladybug, Chat Noir will probably be the first question he’ll ask.
She opens her mouth to tell him just that, but Luka is already speaking. “You know, Juleka insists that we watch Nightmare before Christmas every year,” he says. “I’ve always argued that it’s more of a Halloween movie. What do you think?”
Marinette shuts her mouth, trying not to let it gape open with the unspoken words. Maybe it’s time to let the past be the past. To forgive and forget. That’s the Christmas spirit, isn’t it?
So instead of talking about miserable things, she opens her mouth again and tells him exactly how he’s wrong about Nightmare before Christmas.