Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were a few certainties in Luka Couffaine’s life.

First, there was music. Every note was a language that spoke directly to his soul, to the very essence of his being. It wasn’t just a passion; it was his lifeline. It helped him understand the world, from the haunting melodies of the night to the vibrant symphonies of the day.

The second thing Luka knew was that whether bound by blood or chosen, his family was the pillar of his universe. His sister, his mother, his friends, and above all his girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Speaking of Marinette, she was the third certainty. Since the moment their paths met, Luka knew. She was it. The melody of his heart.

Some might argue that he was too young to know anything about forever, but he disagreed. Just as he could count on the sun rising in the morning, he was certain that Marinette was his one true love. Marinette had a few quirks—a perpetual lateness and ridiculous excuses, a tendency to get lost in her thoughts or to stumble over her words and feet—but she was also generous, kind, intelligent and gorgeous. To Luka, she embodied everything he had ever dreamt of. From the moment they’d met, a little over a year ago, he’d known without a doubt that she was the woman he wanted to build a future with.

He was fifteen at the time. It was just before Christmas break and Marinette’s class had planned a show, but their musician fell ill at the last minute. Fortunately, a classmate had heard of “a guy with blue hair who can play guitar pretty well. His name’s Luke or something? He’s in my sister’s class. I can ask her.”

“You’re Luke?” a girl with curly brown hair had inquired, ten minutes later, as Luka found himself backstage.

“Luka. My friend Lisa told me that you needed a musician?”

She assessed him with a critical eye. “You can play the guitar?”

“I manage,” he’d answered with a barely concealed smirk.

“That’ll have to do,” the girl had sighed before seizing his arm. “Come with me.”

The girl, who he later learned was named Alya Césaire, pulled him rather aggressively toward another room.

“Marinette! We need to find him an outfit, now!” she had exclaimed.

“On it!” came the nervous yet determined response from the exquisite-looking Marinette.

Suddenly blushing, Luka had silently watched as Marinette flew around him, focused solely on her task. He was pretty certain she hadn’t even looked at his face once, her attention consumed by the clothes. But later, after an amazing performance, when the adrenaline of the show faded, Luka mustered the courage to ask her out for the next day. Truth be told, she’d seemed startled at first, as though not quite sure where that was coming from. But she’d agreed with a shy smile and the rest, well… It was history.

Sometimes, Luka marvelled at the fact that they had never crossed paths before. It seemed incredible considering the circles they moved in. He had discovered that Marinette actually knew his own twin sister, having attended Françoise Dupont before transferring schools. Like him, she had received a scholarship to study in their, admittedly, more prestigious school. She had then met Alya, who was also new that year.

A year into their relationship, Luka remained certain of their love. Yet, a faint sense of unease was slowly but surely gnawing at him. For the past two weeks, Marinette had become increasingly distant. Her already flimsy excuses had become even worse, dark circles had appeared beneath her blue eyes, and her complexion had grown paler. Worse of all, she snapped at anything and anyone. He knew something was going on, something she refused to admit. So, when she finally uttered the dreaded words, “We need to talk,” Luka wasn’t particularly surprised.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded, gesturing for her to sit beside him on his bed. He had anticipated this moment, but it didn’t make it any easier. He searched for clues in their previous interactions, for any misstep he might have made, but came out empty-handed. Was their perfect love story merely one-sided? That couldn’t be right.

“What’s wrong, my melody?”

He tried to hide his shaking hands, his mind conjuring horrible, horrible ideas the longer Marinette stayed silent. Time stretched for what felt like an eternity until, finally, Marinette spoke, her voice trembling, “I’m Ladybug.”

Luka realized it probably should have come as a shock. Yet, as Marinette’s words echoed in his mind, everything suddenly made sense, like the final piece of the puzzle had fallen seamlessly into place. Of course, she was Ladybug. He released a slow exhale, his shoulders slumping in relief.

“Oh, right, okay. Make sense.”

“You’re… You’re not surprised?” Marinette’s blue eyes widened as she looked at him. “Not even a little?”

He shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Not really. I didn’t expect it, but it’s actually pretty obvious when you think about it. I mean, my melody, who else would’ve chosen me as Viperion?”

“I guess I didn’t really think about that.”

“I guess,” he parroted, his smirk widening.

“So, will you be surprised if I tell you that Alya is Rena?”

“Let me think about it… No. That makes sense, too.”

“Well, damn.”

“I’m guessing you already told her?”

“Yes,” Marinette admitted, uncertainty flickering in her gaze as she looked up at him. “It kind of just… blurted out. I wanted to tell you both together, but she was at my place and, well…”

Luka smiled reassuringly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. She’s your best friend.”

“She screamed, you know.”

“When you told her about you?” he chuckled.

“Yes. And again when I told her about you. Actually, she just screamed the whole time.”

“Again, not surprised, but… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you telling us?”

Marinette sighed. “It wasn’t easy, but we both agreed that we needed the support.”

A chill crept over Luka as realization dawned upon him. The “we” wasn’t about him and her, but about someone he’d somewhat managed to completely forget about; Chat Noir.

Just as Luka knew that Marinette was the one for him, he also knew about the unspoken bond between Ladybug and Chat Noir. They had this partnership, one forged from their battles and victories. Despite their constant denials of anything beyond friendship, chemistry lingered, something everyone and their mother could notice. Luka had always believed that Ladybug and Chat Noir would someday, somehow, find their way to each other. It was a belief echoed by many and always confirmed by the heroes’ shared glances, their intimate gestures, their unspoken connection—things that Luka, as Viperion, knew better than most.

But Ladybug was his Marinette, and that changed everything.

“The Guardian of the Miraculous recently died, and it’s been… hard on us both,” Marinette continued, her gaze fixed on her hands, oblivious to her boyfriend’s stiffened demeanour. “It’s a long story, but since we’d both been able to choose two holders, we figured we could reveal our identities to them and them only?”

Luka coughed, attempting to clear his throat. “I’m not…” he stammered, then tried again in a somewhat steadier voice, “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Well, I chose you and Alya as Viperion and Rena. And Chat chose Queen Bee and Carapace.”

“But we won’t know who these three are?”

“Not for now, no.”

“Why not?”

Marinette finally looked up at him. “The Guardian told us that it’s too dangerous.”

“I see,” Luka nodded, pretending that he understood, although his mind was clouded with memories of Ladybug and Chat Noir together.

“I was so scared you were gonna be mad at me.”

That made him stop as he froze once more, looking at his girlfriend in shock.

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Because I’ve been lying to you this whole time. I’ve been ruining our dates all the time because of this. I’ve been a horrible girlfriend and I—”

“No, no, stop it,” he interjected, gently grasping her hands in his. “I’m not mad at you. How could I be? You’ve been saving everyone. I’m… I’m so proud of you.”

And it was the truth. How could he not be proud of his amazing, incredible, superhero girlfriend who saved Paris on a regular basis?

“Really?” Marinette whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Of course. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.”

As they closed the distance between them, their lips touching, Luka decided that he could live with this. Ladybug could be Chat Noir’s partner, but Marinette? Marinette was his, just like he was hers. And that’s something no one could steal from them.

Every single day, he made a conscious effort to remind himself of that. He told himself that everything was fine when he was at school or when he hung out with his friends. Everything was perfectly fine when he played the guitar while Marinette stitched some clothes beside him, or when he watched TV, barely listening as TV host Alec Cataldi talked about teen heartthrob Adrien Agreste’s new rumoured girlfriend. He really, really tried to remember it all, especially when, four weeks after their conversation, he was called alongside the others to help with an akuma.

Ladybug and Chat Noir—his girlfriend and some random guy—stood together in front of them, explaining the plans, but Viperion found himself unable to listen as attentively as he should have. He couldn’t help but wonder if they noticed the way they finished each other’s sentence, or how closely they stood, their arms touching. Hell, it even seemed as though they were having a silent conversation while speaking with them—a glance here, a nod there. It was subtle, yet so obvious at the same time.

Viperion really, really tried to act as though none of it bothered him. He might not have noticed the way Rena Rouge glanced at him curiously, concerned by her friend’s sudden stiffness, but he sure didn’t miss the knowing glance exchanged between Queen Bee and Carapace as they looked at their leaders. Now, what it meant, Viperion wasn’t sure, but he could imagine.

“Look at them,” they probably thought. “They’re made for each other.”

But it was fine, Viperion reminded himself. Ladybug and Chat Noir were a team. He could share Ladybug. Ladybug was a public figure, the hero of Paris. And if he was part of the team, she was part of a duo. He couldn’t compete against that. As long as Marinette was his, everything was going to be fine. Even if, in the meantime, he had to watch every day another one protects the one he loved.

Everything was fine.

—

In retrospect, it was actually quite impressive how long he managed to convince himself of that.

For years, he watched the love of his life live a double life. He observed as she moved in perfect synchronicity with another, growing closer and closer to Chat Noir. But it was fine. Perfect, even. He didn’t mind. It was still him and Marinette. Who cared if she fought alongside Chat Noir? Who cared if Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared together on multiple occasions without any akuma present? Certainly not him.

“He’s my best friend,” Marinette had admitted once, and it was fine. She was allowed to have a guy friend. She had plenty of them! Hell, he didn’t even flinch when he overheard Alya and her discussing how hot that model, Adrien Agreste, was and how lucky his new girlfriend was. He trusted her with his whole heart and wasn’t worried about that kind of petty stuff.

Granted, it felt different with Chat Noir, but Luka didn’t say anything. He didn’t think about it. Not even when a picture leaked of Ladybug crying in Chat Noir’s arms. Because that’s what friends were for. He knew Marinette talked to Alya about things she wouldn’t tell him, not anymore, and that was fine. They were friends. He didn’t care because, at the end of the day, Marinette would lie down in bed next to him, kiss him, and whisper that she loved him. And for Luka, that’s all that mattered.

And honestly, the fact that he knew Chat Noir was also in a relationship helped, at least a little. If Luka knew something about the guy, it’s that he was loyal to a fault. He also knew that the mysterious girlfriend wasn’t Queen Bee, since Chat Noir pretty much treated her like his little sister. An annoying yet loved one. But that also meant that the girl didn’t know about Chat Noir’s double life.

Sometimes, Luka thought about it and wondered if it would’ve been better not knowing that Marinette was also Ladybug. It probably would’ve prevented a lot of headaches… But no. There were no headaches because everything was fine. He didn’t envy the girlfriend. The poor girl probably had to deal with a lot of insecurities and lies. She would probably, soon enough, move on with another guy who’d treat her right. One who wouldn’t lie to her just to go parading with another girl under the night sky. This girl wasn’t lucky, far from it.

“Hey man, you good?” Vincent, his best friend, asked, pulling Luka out of his thoughts as he paused their game.

“Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.”

“About Mari?”

“How’d you guess?”

Vincent chuckled knowingly. “When are you not?”

“Fair point,” he admitted with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, sorry, I got a lot on my mind.”

“I bet. Things seem rough.”

Luka’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

There was a beat of silence as Vincent hesitated. He cast him a sidelong glance, biting his lip as he tried to find the words. After a couple of seconds, he said, “I don’t know, man. You guys have always been… You know, the it couple. It made sense. You actually gave me hope in love, you know that? But lately, I don’t know… You’ve both seemed tense, I guess?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Might be just me, though.”

“Definitely just you,” Luka replied, perhaps a bit more curtly than necessary, running a hand through his hair.

“Look, man, relationships have their ups and downs. It’s normal. But if something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“Thanks, Vince,” he answered with a sigh, his anger already softening. “I appreciate it.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” Vincent grinned. “Besides, you’re always here for all of us. Gave that new girl at work a whole therapy session last week. For free! You deserve the same.”

Luka blushed, feeling a bit uncomfortable. Helping others was easy, but facing his own issues was a different story. Besides, he didn’t have any problems. Everything was fine.

“Wanna play another round?” Vincent suddenly asked.

Luka immediately jumped at the opportunity. “Absolutely! I’m all in now, so prepare to lose. Mari taught me a thing or two.”

“Ah, fuck.”

—

“Luka, I said no!” Marinette protested, her laughter filling the room. “We are not staying in tonight.”

“But baaaaabe,” he whined playfully, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer as they lounged on the bed.

She shook her head, still smiling. “Everyone already confirmed. Your mom’s excited, you know.”

“So?” Luka countered, pouting slightly.

“We can’t really ditch them.”

“Why not? It’s my birthday!”

“And you want to spend your twenty-first birthday locked up in the apartment? Seriously?”

He nodded. “Yes. Well, technically, I want to stay in bed with you.”

“Well, too bad, because I’m going to the party your mom, Rose and I specifically organized for Juleka and you,” she declared, planting a quick kiss on his lips before slipping out of his embrace and standing up. “Now, go get ready!”

Luka sighed as he let his head fall back against the pillow. A small smile played at the corners of his lips as he watched Marinette run around the room, starting to get ready herself. She was oh so beautiful, the most incredible vision. He often wondered how he’d ever get so lucky. Sure, their relationship wasn’t easy, far from it. They argued more and more frequently, especially when Marinette suddenly became tongue-tied over superhero stuff.

“I thought we were past the secrets and the lies!” he would often scream.

“There are some things I cannot tell you for your own security, Luka!” she’d retort, trying to keep her calm, although her voice was always tinged with obvious frustration.

“You need to tell me everything so that I can protect you!”

“But I don’t need you to protect me, that’s not your job!”

Every time, he would think but never say, “No, because you have him for that, don’t you?” and her eyes, but never her mouth, would answer “yes” as she looked away.

No, being with her wasn’t easy. There were mountains between them, gasps they were never really able to fill despite desperately trying to. As they grew older, they changed, becoming people with vastly different opinions and interests. Yet, despite it all, Luka still loved her. She remained the kind, generous, selfless, and beautiful girl he had fallen for years ago. And perhaps, in the end, that was all that truly mattered.

Right?

“Marinette!” Alya’s urgent voice cut through the lively chatter of the crowd gathered on the Liberty.

Luka and Marinette turned around, smiles fading as they registered the concern etched on their friend’s face. Alya’s phone was clutched tightly against her chest, a telltale sign of trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette immediately asked, her tone already more Ladybug than Marinette’s.

“An akuma on rue du Bac,” Alya explained, her eyes darting between her phone and Marinette. “It looks bad, girl… Oh, Chat just got there.”

Marinette sighed, her shoulders sagging. She glanced at Luka, silently apologizing with her eyes. But before she could utter a word, he spoke up, his voice calm and understanding.

“It’s okay. Go save the day.”

Her expression softened with gratitude as she nodded before turning away, navigating through the crowd in search of somewhere safe and discreet to transform.

“Keep your phone close, just in case,” Alya reminded him, her gaze still fixed on her device.

He rolled his eyes. As if he needed the reminder. It’s not like he’d been Viperion for years now, uh?

“It’s a shame Mari insists on keeping our you-know-what,” she continued, frustration creeping into her tone. “I should be there too, and I can’t really leave this boat without it.”

“To help?”

“No, to film. They’re waiting for the live stream. Really, it’s stupid. Even he said we should all have our things, but since Mari won’t agree… Well, you know how they are. They have to agree on every decision.”

Luka frowned, processing the information. He hadn’t known that Chat Noir wanted the team to have their miraculous permanently. Why hadn’t Marinette mentioned this to him? And why did it suddenly matter so much?

“Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

Alya hummed in confirmation. “Yeah. She claims it’s too risky, while he says it would be better if they could somehow signal us to come instead of coming to find us whenever they need to. I mean, I agree with him, but… Mari didn’t tell you?”

“No. She doesn’t really talk to me about all this stuff,” Luka admitted, feeling a pang of hurt.

“Of course, she doesn’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Luka questioned, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“Well, you know,” Alya shrugged. “You were always tense when she brought this kind of stuff up, so she stopped.”

“I wasn’t tense!” Luka protested, the drink in his hand trembling slightly.

“If you say so… Gosh, the readers won’t stop asking me why I’m not filming. I don’t even know what to answer anymore. I’m stuck on a boat, guys, I can’t do miracles!”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Luka muttered after a pause, his mind elsewhere.

If he hadn’t known that, something so trivial, what else had Marinette kept from him? Perhaps things far, far more important. Things he definitely should’ve known about. Details Alya and her, maybe even Chat Noir, Carapace and Queen Bee laughed about when he wasn’t there, talking about how clueless he was.

“I guess I’ll have to edit some footage other people took instead… It’s gonna take a while, I’m receiving quite a lot of them.”

“I’m sorry that my birthday is such an inconvenience to you,” Luka spat.

Finally, Alya looked up from her phone, her mouth slightly open in shock. “That’s not what I was saying.”

“Whatever, I don’t care,” he replied, dismissive as he scanned the crowd for his sister. She had to be around here, somewhere with Rose. And what about Vincent, Lisa and that new girl from the studio, Liliane? He’d seen them when he and Marinette had first walked on the boat, but had lost them in the crowd since.

“No, really, Luka, that’s not what I meant at all!” Alya insisted, reaching out to grab his arm. “I’m sorry, I was just…” she trailed off, her attention drawn back to her phone.

“Well, that was quick,” Luka muttered, bitterness lacing his words.

“Oh, no, no, no…”

Luka’s heart skipped a beat. He might have been angry, but he wasn’t stupid. Based on Alya’s words and her reaction, her face growing paler by the second, he knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing as he peered at Alya’s phone. “What’s going on?”

“One fan who lives nearby started a stream and is sharing it on the blog and… My god, Ladybug was hit by a ray.”

“Chat Noir didn’t protect her?” Luka’s voice took on a dangerous edge, his eyes glued to the screen as he watched Chat Noir cradle a wounded Ladybug and disappear into an alleyway.

“No, the akuma was targeting him. Chat Noir was distracting it while she was doing her thing, but…”

“But what, Alya?”

She looked up at him, tears shimmering in her eyes. “She jumped in front of it to protect him.”

Luka recoiled, his mind struggling to process the information. It didn’t make sense! Around them, more and more people were engrossed in their phones, discussing the akuma without really worrying about it. It wasn’t near them, after all. But for Luka, it felt like the ground had dropped out from under him.

“Why would she do that?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She told me two days ago that she couldn’t bear watching him die for her anymore.”

“What the… Yes, she has to let him die for her!” he exclaimed, his words coming out louder than intended, drawing shocked stares from those closest to them.

“Keep your voice down,” Alya urged, offering a forced smile to the couple beside them. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“It should be,” he insisted, frustration and worry bubbling up inside him.

“Luka… Wait, look!”

They pulled the phone closer to their faces, straining to see through the shaky camera and the obscured angle caused by the akuma’s latest attack. Despite the chaos, they recognized the telltale pink and green lights emanating from the alleyway. Most people wouldn’t understand the significance, but they did.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had de-transformed. Together.

The lights flickered again, and moments later, a blonde man clad in a red and black polka dot suit emerged from hiding.

“Oh, my God,” Alya breathed, her voice echoing the sentiments of everyone around them. “They switched miraculous. They’ve never done that before. Why would they do it now? Do you think she was hurt that badly?”

Luka shook his head, somehow feeling like his body and his soul had separated. “I don’t know.”

“Wait, you know what that means?” Alya pressed a few minutes later, her voice tinged with excitement as Chat Noir—or was it Manbug? Misterbug?—single-handedly defeated the akuma and called for the cure.

“What?” Luka whispered, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

“They probably know each other’s identity now, right? That means we’ll get to meet the others! If they know who the other is, there’s no reason for us not to know too, right?”

“I guess,” he muttered.

He could understand Alya’s excitement about the idea of meeting the other heroes. He knew she had a crush on Carapace, but their secret identities stopped her from expressing her feelings. However, despite this, he couldn’t share her joy as he watched a newly healed Marinette, wearing the freaking black cat miraculous, emerge from the alleyway. His stomach clenched uncomfortably as Chat Noir, or whatever alias he now had, rushed to her side and enveloped her in a tight embrace. One which lasted far, far too long for Luka’s liking.

The sight made him queasy. Ladybug and Chat Noir—it was something he could handle, but Marinette and Chat Noir weren’t supposed to happen. She couldn’t possibly know his identity; that would change everything… But then again, would it? Their freaky little compatibility as Ladybug and Chat Noir couldn’t possibly translate to their civilian lives, right? He had no reason to be concerned.

And with a little luck, Chat Noir was really ugly under the mask.

—

Adrien Agreste.

Of course, Chat Noir just had to be one of the hottest guys alive. One who was newly single, on top of that.

When Marinette reappeared on the boat after the fight, nearly an hour after it ended, Luka and Alya rushed to her side before ushering her to a more secluded spot for a debrief. While Luka was eager to ensure her well-being, Alya beat him to the interrogation.

“Girl, spill! We saw everything, who is he?”

“It’s…,” Marinette sighed and shook her head, as though still processing the revelation herself. “You won’t believe me. It’ll be easier if you just meet him.”

“Really?” Alya’s voice pitched high, barely containing her excitement. “And we’ll meet the others, too, right?”

Marinette nodded. “I gave him the address of that café near your place, Al. They’ll meet us there tomorrow at eleven.”

Luka interjected before Alya could respond further, ignoring her excited squeaks. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” Marinette replied promptly.

“I guess. It looks like it hurt.”

“Hurt? What do you… Oh, right. Yeah, it did,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and sharing a glance with Alya that Luka couldn’t decipher. “A lot. But I’m all good now.”

There was a moment of tense silence as they all looked at each other. Or rather, as Alya glanced between her friends rapidly, while Luka stared at his girlfriend who kept her eyes on her feet. And then, after a minute, Alya said, gesturing toward the party, “Well, we should get back to it. I think they’re about to serve the cake.”

They nodded and made their way back into the crowd, but for the remainder of the night, Luka’s mind was a million miles away. Everyone obviously noticed his discomfort. His friends, especially Vincent, observed him with concern, offering him drink after drink in an attempt to lighten his mood. Even the new girl, Liliane, picked up on it and told him that he could always talk to her if he needed to. He assured them all that he was fine, although his mother simply snorted and rolled her eyes at his response. But seriously, what could he possibly say? He wasn’t even sure of his own feelings. And when he glanced over at Alya and Marinette, engaged in hushed conversation in the corner, his confusion only deepened.

Later, as Marinette and he lay in bed, he tried to sleep, but his mind refused to shut up. And while Marinette remained silent, he knew she was also awake. Perhaps she was also dealing with a whirlwind of emotions. It made sense, Luka guessed. She had finally seen the face of her partner, a fact he had a hard time coming to terms with. But he had no reason to feel this way! Everything was fine.

“I’m so excited,” Alya said the next day as she took a sip of her coffee, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Marinette softly laughed, her gaze locked on the door. Was she blushing or was she wearing more makeup than usual? Luka wasn’t sure.

“What about you, Luka?” Alya probed. “Nervous?”

He abruptly stopped tapping his foot, a sudden tension gripping his muscles.

“No. Why would I be?”

“Uh, I mean…” Alya’s voice trailed off, her mouth dropping open in shock. “Holy shit. Somebody pinch me, Adrien freaking Agreste just walked inside.”

Luka turned around so fast, he almost gave himself whiplash. Somehow, deep down, he immediately knew. There was no way supermodel and actor Adrien Agreste had wandered into this tiny, unknown coffee place by sheer luck. He stole a glance at Marinette sitting beside him. She had risen to her feet, her eyes locked on the blond guy who smiled radiantly, as if he had swallowed the sun itself.

Barely registering the presence of the blonde girl and the tall guy beside him, Luka’s attention remained fixed on his girlfriend and Adrien Agreste—Chat Freaking Noir—exchanging warm hugs with each other, their smiles lighting up the room.

“Oh, my God,” he heard Alya whispers, her voice filled with disbelief, but he ignored her.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” the blonde girl behind Adrien gasped in shock.

“No way, dudette!” the guy exclaimed. “It’s been so long!”

“Wait, you guys know each other?” Adrien asked, his brows knitting together as he glanced between his friends and Marinette.

“Mari, Chlo and I went to school together before Miss Girl over here transferred,” the guy explained, wrapping Marinette in a tight hug. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Nino,” she agreed warmly, returning the embrace.

“And don’t worry about Chloe over there,” Nino continued, pulling away. “She’s not the bitch she used to be anymore.”

“Seriously?” Chloe muttered. “But it’s true. Sorry, I guess about… whatever that was back then.”

“Uh, it’s fine,” Marinette assured, her cheeks flushing slightly as she glanced at Adrien.

“Seriously, I can’t believe this,” Nino exclaimed, clapping Adrien on the back. “If Marinette had stayed one more year, we would’ve all been in the same class!”

Before anyone else could say something, Alya cleared her throat and stepped forward, her focus solely on Nino, who immediately turned red. He removed his hat, running a hand through his hair as his eyes scanned the women before him. Nino opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out.

“Hello to you, too,” Alya said with a smug smile before turning her attention toward the other two. “I’m Alya.”

They greeted her and hugged her before turning their attention toward Luka, who’d stood perfectly still in the background. He briefly nodded before saying, “Luka.”

Both Chloe and Nino said hi, albeit perhaps a little more reserved this time, before exchanging a knowing glance. His jaw clenched, and he saw the way Marinette looked at him, frowning, as though trying to understand what was wrong with him. But Adrien apparently didn’t mind Luka’s lack of manners, stepping closer and holding his hand for him to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, smiling.

Luka grabbed the hand, perhaps with more force than necessary. “Same.”

He saw Adrien’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, but the model quickly hid his expression behind another, faker smile.

“I told you, a man of few words,” he heard Chloe joke to Nino.

“Well, let’s sit,” Marinette said, gesturing toward the table.

As everyone took their seat, Marinette threw him another curious glance, but Luka had no answer for her. He didn’t understand how he felt or where that fire in his belly came from. But he just wanted to grab something hard and smash it into the window, especially when Adrien took the other seat next to Marinette, leaving Chloe, Nino, and Alya on the other side.

Everything was perfectly fine.

—

“I’m sorry, Mari, but I’m right and you’re wrong,” Adrien declared, sinking comfortably into Luka’s couch.

“What are you even talking about? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Sorry, Sunshine, but I’m with her on this one,” Alya chimed in from her perch on Nino’s lap.

“Yeah,” Nino added, snagging a handful of popcorn. “I don’t think Mr. Banana is mothman, dude.”

Adrien gasped dramatically. “Traitor.”

“No, you know what, he might have a point. Why has he never shown his face? That’s weird,” Chloe remarked casually as she painted her nails, her kwami hovering nearby while the others ate in the kitchen.

“Ha!” Adrien exclaimed, playfully pointing at Chloe. “You just became my favourite of the team.”

Chloe snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Nino chuckled, and Adrien blushed, while Luka fought the urge to punch them both in the face.

“What about you, Luka?” Alya asked, and he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. “What side are you on?”

“I don’t know,” he simply replied.

There was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged glances before resuming their conversation. Honestly, Luka didn’t care much if the others didn’t like him. Over the years, they’d grown more distant, seeing him less as a friend and more as a teammate. But that didn’t matter to Luka; Viperion was a side job, one he wasn’t particularly happy to see overlap with his personal life with Marinette. Besides Alya, none of them should be here, lounging in his living room. Especially not Adrien Agreste.

He ignored the disapproving look Marinette shot his way, instead refocusing on his phone. Liliane had texted him about some problem she was facing with the recording of an album, and the artist was less than accommodating. Now, that was his real job, and he couldn’t let her down if she needed his help.

“Oh, time to work, guys,” Alya suddenly announced, pulling his attention away from his phone. “Akuma near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Again? It’s the sixth one in three days,” Marinette whined, somehow having ended up lying on the floor at some point that Luka had missed.

“C’mon, bug,” Adrien said, standing up and extending his hand to help her up. Seriously, did this guy have a death wish or something? “Plagg, Tikki, get over here!”

“Call us if you guys need help,” Alya said.

Nino grabbed another handful of popcorn. “Or don’t.”

Adrien simply laughed before looking at Marinette. Right before Luka’s eyes, they exchanged a silent conversation, a whole lot of words seeming to pass through their eyes before they both nodded and called their transformation, saluting everyone before jumping out the window.

“Well,” Nino said after a couple of minutes of silence, slightly tapping his new girlfriend’s thigh. “This has been fun. Maybe we should head out? Chlo?”

“Yep,” the blonde answered, standing up. “See you next time, Luka.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll meet you guys outside, give me a minute,” Alya said.

As the others left the apartment, Alya turned her attention fully to him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

Luka frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been acting like an asshole. And not just since we finally met them, but for a while now. I don’t recognize you, and I shouldn’t tell you this, but Marinette doesn’t either! You used to be so… attentive, so kind, always ready to help everyone. You were nice, but now…” she pointed at him, “now you’re acting like an idiot.”

“Sweet,” he retorted bitterly. “Exactly what I need to hear. Thanks, Alya.”

Alya sighed before coming to sit next to him. “Luka, we’ve been friends for years now, and I know something’s wrong. We can all see it, but no one can help you if you won’t talk.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Alya. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want to think.”

“Luka, I’m not stupid. It’s about them, isn’t it? It’s always been about them.”

He froze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“C’mon now,” she scoffed. “You’re jealous. Anyone with two eyes can see it. Do you really think you’ve been subtle? Adrien’s been doing everything in his power to be nice to you, to show you he’s not a threat, but you’ve been nothing but cold toward him for years now. Marinette’s pretty pissed about it, you know, but she’s pretending she’s not because she understands, even though you’re wrong.”

“Why would I be jealous?”

“Because they’re close. But Luka, nothing ever happened between Marinette and Adrien.”

Was he crazy, or could he almost hear the unspoken “yet”?

“Marinette and Adrien…,” he repeated. “It sounds good, doesn’t it? I think we all know it.”

She sighed. “Honestly, this is exhausting. If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you put both of you out of your misery? You don’t have to stay in this situation, and I’m telling you this because I love you,” she said, grabbing his hand and squeezing. “You deserve to be happy, Luka. You’re an amazing man, even if you’ve been acting a little… weird. But I see how you are with your family, with your other friends. The old Luka is still in there; you’re just not able to be him anymore when Marinette’s near.”

“She’s your best friend,” he remarked, his throat clenching. “You shouldn’t be trying to convince her boyfriend to dump her, right?”

“Maybe I want her to be happy, too. Have you noticed it, Luka, or have you been so deep into your own self-pity that you didn’t notice the signs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Another sigh. “Of course, you don’t,” she muttered, her voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and pity. “I want you both to be happy. And yes, Marinette is my best friend, but you’re my friend, too, and I worry a lot more about you.”

Alya stood up, grabbed her coat, and headed toward the door. She hesitated for a moment before adding, “Marinette is gonna be fine. She’ll be sad, but everything will work out.” Her expression softened. “You, on the hand? You’ll be much, much better.”

He nodded, just once, unable to find words to respond. She left, and Luka found himself alone with the silence, one he’d never been comfortable with. There was no music, nothing to heal his aching soul. Instead, he was forced to face the truths he couldn’t bear to confront. Alya’s words, spoken from a place of genuine care, had revealed a pain in him he could no longer ignore.

There were still things Luka was certain of; his family, his passion. But despite his efforts, Marinette was no longer one of his certainties. And although he would never admit it out loud, he wondered when was the last time she had been.

—

“What do you mean?” Marinette wondered, sighing deeply. Her exhaustion, whether it was physical or mental, was evident as she lounged on the couch, her head propped up by her hand.

“You know what I mean, Marinette!” Luka screamed in frustration, his voice echoing off the walls of their once-cozy apartment.

The memories flooded back, like waves crashing against the shore. The first visit. The day they’d moved in. The dinners, the laughs and the love. But now, every corner of their house was filled with his fears and uncertainties.

He remembered a time he used to affectionately call her “my melody”. When did he stop, he wondered? Marinette had never brought it up. Did she even notice? Did she care? Did Luka care anymore?

“Just say it, Luka,” she whispered, and he finally noticed the tears glistening in her eyes. “Please, I’m begging you, just say it.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore. We need to break up.”

She sighed again, the sound heavy with resignation and acceptance rather than the torment or anger he had expected. It left him feeling unsettled, unsure of how to process her reaction. Maybe, if he was completely honest with himself, he’d wanted a fight. He’d wanted her to fight for him, for them, for their future. But that didn’t exist anymore. Their love had been six feet under for a while, now.

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding once. “You’re right.”

“I am?” he couldn’t help but ask, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

She let out a laugh, the bitterness cutting through the air like a sharp blade as she sat up. “We both know you’re no longer happy with me, Luka, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried everything I could think of, but I’m… I’m tired.”

“So, that’s all my fault?”

She eyed him critically. “That’s not what I said.”

“Basically.”

“No, not at all!” she exclaimed as she rose to her feet, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt you, but Luka, for fuck’s sake, you never talk. I’ve tried to understand what was wrong, I begged you times and times again to say something, but the only thing you ever said was ‘everything’s fine’!”

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” he screamed, his frustration boiling over and spilling out.

“Yes!” she yelled back, her voice rising to match his for the first time.

“Adrien! There! I’ve said it!”

She froze, her entire being seeming to come to a standstill as she processed his words. “Adrien?” she finally repeated, her cheeks flushing crimson. “What do you mean, Adrien?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ll figure it out soon enough, I’m sure of it. You’re smart, Ladybug.”

“Luka,” she started, but he cut her off before she could finish.

“I’ll go. I already talked with Juleka; she and Rose will let me stay in their second room until you find another place to live. Take your time, I don’t care. And you know, I’m sure Adrien wouldn’t mind renting you his place, or hell, his bed.”

“Don’t do this,” she said, her voice tight with anger. “Don’t bring him into this. He hasn’t done anything to you.”

“This isn’t about him, Marinette. It’s about you.”

“I’ve never cheated on you! Not with Adrien or anyone!”

“Maybe not physically, but emotionally? I think you did, plenty of times.”

There was a moment of silence as his words hung in the air, enveloping them both in its suffocating embrace. And then, she whispered, “I loved you. I really did.”

“So did I. But it’s never been enough, has it?”

He grabbed the suitcase by the door, each movement weighed down by the gravity of their crumbling relationship. Just before leaving, he added, “You can keep the miraculous. I don’t want it anymore, but tell Sass I’ll miss him.”

“Luka…”

“Don’t worry, Marinette. It might be over between us, but your secret’s safe with me. Always.”

“I know that. But Luka, please, I…”

“Be happy, Marinette,” he interrupted her once more before turning on his heel and walking out the door.

And while this might have been one of the hardest nights of his life, Luka realized that a huge weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders. He could get used to this strange, liberated feeling he thought. As soon as his broken heart was healed, that is.

—

Luka Couffaine, aged twenty-five, knew a few things for certain.

One, music was, and would always be, his passion. It made his soul sing in a way nothing else could. Whether he was strumming his guitar, writing down lyrics, or simply losing himself in his favourite songs, music was his sanctuary. It didn’t matter if he played, wrote, or listened; as long as music existed, Luka felt a profound sense of contentment.

Two, his family remained at the centre of his universe. The warmth of their love meant everything to him. Yet, Luka had learned that even the closest relationships could evolve and change. Like the beat of a song, the dynamics of family could shift, sometimes unexpectedly. And though such changes could bring heartache, Luka had come to accept them as part of life’s ever-changing rhythm.

Three, Luka was in love. Whether Liliane was the love of his life remained uncertain, but her presence brought him comfort and joy. Peace. There was something about her laughter, her gentle touch, that made him feel truly seen and understood. He knew now that love was a fragile gift, one he would never take for granted again. But despite his fears, Luka still hoped for a happily ever after considering the ring in his pocket.

It had taken him a considerable amount of time to fully heal from the end of his relationship with Marinette and let go of the future they had once dreamt of together. At first, the pain had been raw, a constant ache that nothing seemed to calm. But as time passed, Luka had gradually come to realize that Alya had been right all along; life without Marinette had been infinitely better.

Cutting off all contact with Marinette had been a difficult decision. Despite their breakup, he couldn’t help but wonder how she was doing, what she was going through… The unknown was slowly but surely eating him up inside. That’s why, a month after their breakup, he decided to pack his bags and go on a solo journey around the world. Thanks to his life savings, he moved across continents, learning everything he could about the cultures and their music. With each experience, his heart slowly healed itself.

Two years later, when he finally came back home, Luka was transformed. The bitterness and anger that had once consumed him was gone, replaced by a profound sense of peace and confidence. He was no longer haunted by the ghost of his failed love story.

However, it wasn’t long until he noticed that his family seemed to be harbouring some kind of secret. They were tiptoeing around him, it was obvious. Eventually, under the weight of Luka’s persistent questions, Vincent finally cracked under the pressure.

“Fine,” Vincent sighed. “Marinette has moved on.”

“That’s it? So did I.”

“Yeah, but, I mean…”

Luka braced himself for what he already suspected. “What?” he asked, though part of him already knew the answer. “It’s with Adrien Agreste, isn’t it? She’s with him now?”

“Yeah,” his best friend sighed again. “They’ve been together for a while now.”

“A while? What, a year?”

“I don’t know, man,” Vincent admitted, a note of uncertainty in his tone. “The papers started talking about it a few months after you left.”

Luka’s heart sank at the thought of Marinette moving on even faster than he had anticipated. If he had to bet, they probably started dating long before the gossips got wind of it. Knowing them, Adrien and Marinette had probably wanted to keep it to themselves for a while. His old resentment came back, with the need to scream out, “I told you so!”, but surprisingly, the horrible, red jealousy wasn’t there anymore. His ego was hurt, sure, but overall he was… fine.

For real, this time.

He was happy for her.

Really, he was! He still believed Marinette was one of the kindest and most selfless souls he’d ever met. She was perfect, just not for him. And now that his anger had dissipated, almost as fast as it had come, he could also admit that Adrien was just as kind. They truly were a good match, even if that was still a bit hard to admit.

“You know, Liliane’s been talking about you,” Vincent said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Really?”

His friend smirked knowingly. “You have no idea. I think you made quite an impression on her. And those damn pictures you keep posting aren’t helping. Her crush on you is still as massive as ever.”

“Wait, still?” Luka’s brows shot in surprise.

“Seriously? You haven’t noticed before? Man, she was like, totally into you! Obviously, she never made a move because you were with Mari, and then you went away forever, but like… You’re both in the same country now. Both single. You should give her a call someday.”

“You know what? I just might.”

And he did. Of course, he’d noticed Liliane’s beauty before, with her long brown hair and golden skin, but that wasn’t all. It ran deeper than that. She was kind, would always extend a helping hand to those in need, yet wouldn’t hesitate to say no when someone crossed her boundaries. She wouldn’t let anyone walk on her toes, but would give up her life in a second to protect those she loved.

Just like him, she also had a troubled relationship with her father, one which had prevented her from falling in love in the past. She had never dared let herself fall, choosing to dream about love instead of experiencing it herself. She was terrified of commitment, and trying to run whenever anything got too serious. But at night, when she was alone, with music playing in her ears, she pretended that things were different. That she could feel things freely, without fears.

Things escalated quickly between them. They started spending more time together, their connection deepened and each moment got them closer to something meaningful. That’s when Liliane panicked. She tried to flee, suddenly stopped answering his texts. She wanted to shield her heart from potential pain, but Luka refused to let her slip away without a fight. And that’s how he ended up at her doorstep one night, trying to ignore her mother and sister who were clearly listening from the top of the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“I’m here for you. I know you’re scared, and so am I. But Lili, I want this. I want us. And I will fight for us both if you’re too afraid to, but please, let me do it. Let me fight for you.”

She fell silent, her gaze searching his eyes for the truth behind his words. Tears welled in her eyes, and after what felt like an eternity, she whispered, “You don’t have to fight. I want this, too.”

Obviously, things hadn’t been completely easy. There were moments of doubt, misunderstandings, as they slowly gained each other’s complete trust. Yet, as time passed, their relationship blossomed into something incredibly beautiful.

Together, they were making an album, one that spoke of the dept of their love. Luka’s fingers danced across the strings of his guitar while Liliane sang, her voice filled with emotions. They moved into a bigger place, one where every corner seemed filled with happy memories and laughter. And whenever things got more complicated, they always took some time at the end of the day to lay down next to each other.

That’s why today, Luka felt ready for the next step. He knew, without a doubt, that she would say yes. They’d talked about it in length, but he still wanted to find the perfect moment.

“Luka?” a voice called, jolting him out of his thoughts as he stood in line at the coffee shop.

Turning around, he was surprised to see Marinette seated at a nearby table. Unsure what he was supposed to do, he thanked the server as he collected his drink and made his way over to her. She greeted him with a smile, albeit a tad timid.

“Marinette. Hi.”

It would’ve been a lie to say that she wasn’t as beautiful as she used to be. Truth be told, she was as captivating as ever, perhaps even more so. Her beauty, however, no longer stirred the same emotions in him. Sure, she was undeniably gorgeous, but nowadays, no one could compare to the one who held his heart.

“Hi,” she replied. “It’s been a while.”

He nodded. “Yeah, a few years. How are you? You look good.”

“Thank you,” she said, a delicate blush tinting her cheeks. “I’m good. You?”

“I’m good too, thanks.” Shifting his weight uneasily, he searched for words to dispel the lingering awkwardness. Then, his gaze fell upon the ring adorning her left hand. “Oh! I see you’re married?”

She looked at the ring before meeting his gaze again, a radiant smile illuminating her face. “Engaged, actually. We had to postpone the wedding.”

“You and…,” he trailed off, observing as her smile faltered slightly.

“Adrien.”

Her admission was accompanied by a hint of anxiety from her as Marinette tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed to be waiting for his reaction, but the only thing Luka could truly think about was the unmistakable depth of Marinette’s love for Adrien. He wondered if she had ever spoken his own name with the same reverence, or if her eyes had ever sparkled with such love for him. Was Marinette even aware of this all? Probably not, he thought. She hadn’t even realized how naturally she gravitated toward Chat Noir when she and Luka were still together.

“I figured. But why did you postpone?”

“You haven’t heard,” she abruptly stopped herself, her attention shifting behind him. “Hi, minou.”

Turning, Luka found Adrien approaching, his green eyes darting between them with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

“Hey, m’lady,” Adrien greeted, coming to a stop beside his fiancée and dropping a tender kiss on her forehead, making her small warmly and blush. “Hi, Luka. It’s been a while.”

“It has.”

“I told you on the phone that I could wait,” Marinette said as she looked up at Adrien. “You didn’t have to come immediately.”

“Nonsense. Is Alya okay?”

“Yes, but she’s worried about her dad. Her mom said it looked like a heart attack, so…”

“Shit,” Adrien muttered, his hand instinctively rubbing the back of his neck. “She went straight to the hospital?”

Marinette nodded. “Of course. I told her you’d come pick me up.”

Luka observed the interaction in silence, his brow furrowing with a mixture of surprise and confusion. Couldn’t Marinette take the metro anymore? Or transform and run home?

As Marinette made a move to stand up, Adrien immediately assisted her, one hand supporting her back and the other holding her hand. Luka initially thought that it was an exaggerated reaction until he glimpsed the reason behind the postponed wedding and Adrien’s protective behaviour.

Marinette was pregnant. Heavily, on the brink of bursting pregnant.

“Oh,” Luka whispered, though no one heard him.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked, his concern evident as Marinette straightened up, her face twisting with discomfort.

“I want them out,” she deadpanned. “Now.”

Adrien chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do once we’re home.”

“Congratulations,” Luka finally managed to articulate. “You said ‘them’? Twins?”

“Yeah,” Adrien confirmed, his smile radiant. “A boy and a girl.”

“What they are is heavy and late,” Marinette complained and while she made a show of looking angry, the way she rubbed her swollen belly in a loving way conveyed a completely different story. “The doctor says they’re all ready now, but they’re taking their sweet time. We’ve tried everything to coax them out, but they’re apparently quite stubborn.”

“Like their mother,” Adrien teased affectionately.

She raised one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. And then, she whispered, so low no one beside them could hear, “I will throw you off the Eiffel Tower as soon as I can transform.”

Adrien smirked. “Noted.”

“I probably should go; my girlfriend’s waiting for me. But congratulations again,” Luka said with a warm smile. “I’m sure they’ll be the luckiest kids in the world.”

“Thank you,” they chorused in response.

Just as Luka was about to take his leave, Marinette called out to him once more. “Luka, wait!”

He turned back. “Yeah?”

Marinette exchanged a glance with her fiancé, who nodded with a smile. “I’ll wait for you outside by the door,” Adrien said, planting a kiss on her cheek before adding, “It was nice to see you again, Luka.”

“Same.”

Marinette watched as Adrien left, her gaze lingering for a moment before turning back to him. “I just… I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I never got the chance to really say it. I mean, I wrote to you about a hundred messages, but I always deleted them all. Adrien’s been urging me nonstop to call you, but…” She ran a hand through her hair, her words trailing off uncertainly. “Even when you’re right here in front of me, I’m not sure what to say. I’m just… I’m sorry. For how everything played out back then. I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

He sighed heavily as her words, ones he hadn’t known he needed to hear, sank in. Alongside them, however, came a wave of guilt—a burden he had been grappling with for a while now. It had been easy to trick himself into believing everything was her fault, painting her as the villain of their story. But now, he could admit that it wasn’t solely her fault. He, too, bore his share of responsibility.

“I’m sorry, too. I couldn’t bring myself to trust you, to talk to you, or even admit to myself how I was feeling. That wasn’t all on you. I had my part to play in this, too.”

She nodded solemnly. “I wish things could’ve ended differently. I know now that we weren’t meant to be, but sometimes I wish we could’ve remained friends. That you wouldn’t have had to leave the team.”

“Yeah, me too. But I don’t think I could’ve stood by and watch you and Adrien.”

“Right,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her feet. Then, with a wry laugh, she added, “How much are you dying to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“I mean, if you give me permission…”

“Go ahead.”

“I told you so.”

A soft laugh escaped them both, but the sound rapidly died out as they let the weight of their past settle between them.

“How long?” he then asked. “Before he made his move?”

“Luka…”

“Please. I think I need to know.”

She hesitated for a second before saying, “He didn’t. I did. A month and a half after our breakup.”

“I see,” he muttered, nodding. “That was fast.”

“I’m sorry,” she immediately said. “I truly am. For ever hurting you, for making you feel the way I did.”

“We were young, Mari. It’s okay. I think this was the way it was supposed to end. You with him, and me with Liliane.”

“Oh, I remember her! She was so pretty.”

Luka smiled. “She still is. I’m planning on proposing to her soon.”

“Really? That’s amazing! How are you going to do it?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “I’m still trying to figure out the perfect way to do it.”

“There’s no real perfect way,” she confided. “Honestly, even if it’s just you two, home alone, and you feel it, deep down in your heart… Ask her. It will become the perfect way.”

He considered her words for a few seconds. How often had he felt the need to ask her as they were lying in bed, or when they were playing music? More often than not. Maybe Marinette was right. Maybe he didn’t need the grand, romantic gesture. That had never been their style, after all. But the everyday life, filled with sweet moments? Now, that was their thing.

“You know, I think you might be right.”

She smiled. “Well, I should go. My feet are killing me.”

“Good luck. I think you’ll need it with this all,” he said, gesturing to her belly.

“Good thing I’m lady luck, then,” she answered conspiratorially.

He let out a laugh. “You’re right. Well, it was good to see you again, Mari. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too.”

She turned and walked outside. He watched as Adrien asked her something, his hand immediately finding her waist. She nodded as she answered and then, they both smiled before kissing each other. Luka almost laughed at how ridiculously perfect they looked together. There was something about them, something he’d seen years ago. This closeness, this complicity anyone could easily see used to hurt him, but now, he felt nothing by happiness for them. They were so clearly where they were supposed to be.

That night, as Liliane and him watched their favourite show, eating their favourite take out, Luka popped the question. She said yes, and Luka knew without a doubt that he was exactly where he was always supposed to be.