Chapter Text
They shouldn’t have been tired. Or maybe they should have been. He wasn’t really sure.
They had been napping, before. She had been napping when he’d first gotten home, too. But she was hurt, and healing. And wasn’t sleeping a lot part of that? The healing process? She needed her rest.
…he was probably just jetlagged. He could probably use that as an excuse.
There was something about the remembering, though, that was just…exhausting. Weighty. Overwhelming. There were so many emotions running through him, and more than any of it was the knowledge that he actually could take the time to just…feel it all.
“Hawkmoth’s gone,” he whispered later, after he had woken up again. He wasn’t sure if she was actually awake, just like he wasn’t sure what time it actually was. Late, from the lack of light streaming through the porthole and the silence beyond his bunk. They’d probably slept through dinner. It was probably near or past her ‘bedtime’, if she was planning on going to school the next day (he hoped she wasn’t; she needed to rest, damn it) — but Juleka hadn’t come back in, either, and it was also probably past her ‘bedtime’, too.
He wondered if she was taking the couch tonight.
…he should probably still be on the couch. Something about what would Tom think and propriety and all that. He was a Couffaine, though, and she was…propriety could go fuck itself, for all he cared. He wasn’t leaving her.
Not again.
Never again.
“S’gone,” she murmured after a moment. He smiled slightly, until his hand slipped under her shirt and up, until it was lightly resting over her ribs. He brushed his thumb against her skin, and she shivered as she pushed back against him.
…she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was the dumbest thing to focus on, but he could feel the skin of her breast against his thumb, and Marinette wasn’t wearing a bra. His nail grazed along the underside of her breast, and he smiled when she shivered at the touch and pushed closer.
“Is that how this happened?” he asked, lightly tapping his fingers against her ribs. She didn’t answer, not for a long moment, and he wondered if she had drifted back off to sleep. Eventually, her hand came up to cover his, and she shook her head. Another moment passed where her thumb brushed against his through the fabric of her shirt, and then she nodded. He frowned. “…melody, that’s not an answer.”
He felt her tense, and then she was turning towards him — and then he was wincing as her cast jammed into his knee, and she was gasping when his grip tightened on her side.
“Shit!” she hissed, even as he was hurrying out apologies. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and eyebrows lifted high on her forehead, and then she had the nerve to laugh. “…sorry.”
“Shut up,” he chuckled, his hand moving to her hip and squeezing. “I’m sorry. Are you ok?”
“Say it again,” she said. He frowned.
“…what?” he asked.
“Say it again,” she said. When he continued to stare at her, she brought a hand up to cup his cheek. She bit down on her lip and looked up at him, her eyes searching his own. “…Luka. You called me…”
His eyes widened in realization, and then he was smiling as he bent towards her. His nose brushed against her own, and then he was pressing his lips to hers in a hesitant kiss. It was almost shy, compared to their last one — their last dozen or so, three months back, when…but then her hand was moving up to tangle in his hair and pull him against her, until the happy little sigh she was making turned into a pained groan.
“Mel…melody, maybe we should…” he started, but then her mouth was back on his and he groaned as she tried to scoot on top of him. “Your leg…your ribs…”
“Don’t care,” she said, peppering little kisses along his neck. “Luka. Luka.”
“I care,” he huffed, though he also admittedly cared about throwing caution to the wind and continuing. Kissing her senseless — letting her kiss him senseless — sounded like a great idea just then…
“I love you,” she said. He chuckled and squeezed her hip.
“I love you, too,” he said. “Which is why I’m not crazy about hurting you any more than I already have.”
“You didn’t do this,” she huffed, pulling back. “You weren’t even here.”
…it wasn’t the right thing to say.
“Exactly,” he said, his jaw tight. “I wasn’t. And you defeated Hawkmoth, but you got hurt — and you’ve been having nightmares about it. About me.”
“Have not,” she argued.
“Bullshit,” he said. “Who the hell else is Vi?”
She pressed her lips together, and he gave her a small smile as his thumb tapped her side.
“You have to kick my ass, remember?” he asked, his smile growing. He tucked some hair behind her ear and pecked a kiss against her nose. “As soon as you’re better. I certainly can’t kick my own ass.”
He paused, and when she tugged on his hair and called his name he grinned at her.
“…well. Maybe I can. Think Alix will get pissed if I borrow Fluff?” he asked, and she laughed, dropping her head against his shoulder. “God, I’ve missed your laugh…”
“She’ll be furious,” she said, scratching at his scalp, “because Fluff will come back and say how much cooler you are, and her feelings will be so hurt. Besides, what will Sass say? He’ll get so jealous. You’re his snakelet, remember?”
“Nothing for it, then,” he said. “You’re gonna have to whoop me once your leg’s better.”
“I don’t want to whoop you,” she said. She frowned, playing with the fine hairs along the back of his neck. “I want to…I don’t want to whoop you.”
“You want to do something else to me?” he asked, his tone teasing and his smile growing just a bit. “Please. Share. I’m dying to know.”
“…shut up,” she huffed. “I take it back. I don’t want to do anything to you.”
“Shame,” he said. He pushed her back just a little, until she was back on her side and he could curl against her back again. His arm wrapped around her, but he put his hand back by her hip. His fingers drew lazy little patterns along her skin that had her shivering. “I want to do so much to you. Starting with this.”
“…you’re not doing anything, though,” she argued. He hummed and dropped a kiss against her shoulder.
“I’m holding you,” he said. “Talking to you. Being with you. That’s everything right now, melody.”
“…you’re calling me melody,” she said softly. He nodded. The next kiss was pressed against the back of her neck.
“The song that’s been stuck in my head since the moment we met,” he whispered, squeezing her as tight as he dared. It wasn’t tight enough for either of them. “Even when I couldn’t remember…I still knew your song. My Marinette. My melody.”
“…my Luka,” she murmured, and he smiled as he pressed another kiss to her neck.
“Your Luka,” he whispered, but her breathing had already evened out. He was pretty sure she was asleep again.
He wasn’t long after her.
— V —
It wasn’t quite morning when they woke up again.
Pretty far from it, actually.
But they had skipped dinner, and he was pretty sure she had skipped lunch, and he wasn’t sure when she had had breakfast. He wasn’t even sure she had had any of the snacks Dingo had packed for her when they’d helped her up to the greenhouse. He knew he had only had half a croissant at the café himself. At the time, he remembered thinking it just wasn’t that good and he wasn’t that hungry, anyway. Now he was pretty sure it was because it wasn’t a T&S croissant and his stomach had known it.
So when he stirred at…something-past-midnight-o’clock in the morning and his stomach had been growling, he hadn’t been entirely surprised. He also hadn’t really wanted to move, because Marinette was still sleeping and he didn’t want to leave her. Or wake her, because he was still convinced she needed to rest and heal, but mostly he had been happy where he was, curled up around her. But when she had also stirred, and her groan had been drowned out by her own growling stomach, there hadn’t really been much for it.
“I’ll be right back,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder.
“No,” she grumped. “I’ll come with you.”
“It’s ok,” he said. “You rest. I’ll be right back.”
“Luka,” she huffed. “I’ve been resting most of the day.”
“You can rest some more,” he said. He dropped a kiss just behind her ear. “Your crutches are still in the other room, and Jules is on the couch. It’ll be easier to bring something in here than take you out there and wake her up.”
“I’m not an invalid, Luka,” she huffed. He snorted, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m not!”
“You’re not,” he agreed, “but you are healing. Just…humor me, please? I’ll be right back.”
He started to get up, and she twisted, her hand reaching out for his arm and holding on tight. Tighter than was probably necessary, given the situation.
“But you can’t cook!” she said, and he frowned. There was an edge to her voice, a note of panic or desperation or…
“Melody,” he said, laying his hand over hers, “I’m not cooking. There’s leftovers in the fridge. We brought you some soup earlier that you never ate. I’m microwaving at best.”
He squeezed her hand, but she didn’t let go. He leaned over to fiddle with the little lamp attached to the bottom of the cupboard above the bed, and once it was on he saw the way she was watching him, her lower lip between her teeth and that edge of panic in her eyes.
…no.
Not panic.
Fear.
“Marinette…” he whispered, laying his hand on her cheek and bending to press his forehead to hers. “It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere — just out to the galley. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t look convinced, though, and he sighed as he stood. She went to reach for him again, and he took her hand and squeezed before he bent and scooped her up. Her arms immediately went around his neck, and he gave her a reassuring smile before he leaned in to kiss her.
“…ok, melody,” he murmured, and then he was carefully carrying her out of the cabin. He glanced at the couch before he stepped out, surprised to see that Juleka was not actually sleeping there, and wondered if she had followed Rose home instead. He was less concerned about making noise once he realized the living room was empty, and once he had Marinette settled on a stool by the counter he flipped the galley lights on.
“Thank you,” she said after a long moment. He glanced up from the fridge, and he offered her another smile before pulling two containers out of the fridge and tapping them down on the counter in front of her. She was still biting at her lip, and he wondered if she realized just how distracting that was. How much it made him want to kiss her every time she did — though maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. He wanted to kiss her pretty much all the time, anyway. “It’s…it’s so dumb. I know it’s just the other room, but…”
“I get it,” he said, reaching out to hold her hand. “I don’t want to leave your side, either.”
“But you’ll have to eventually,” she said. “We can’t…I mean…I’ll have to go home at some point. You’re gonna tour again. Eventually. Right?”
He winced, and she frowned as he turned his attention back to the containers. He tapped out a quick beat on their lids, but he didn’t answer.
“Luka?” she pressed, and he tapped the lids one more time before looking up at her.
“So…looks like soup. I think it was tomato? It looks like tomato,” he said, tapping the one container again. “Or…something with pasta. Which one would you like?”
“Soup,” she said. “Pasta feels like too much this late. Now answer my question. You are gonna tour again, right?”
He looked back at the containers, avoiding her gaze.
“…I don’t know, Mari,” he said. He popped the lid off her soup and put the container in the microwave. He considered the buttons for a minute before setting the time. “Probably.”
“What do you mean probably?” she asked. “Was it really that bad?”
“It was fine,” he said, shrugging. “I just…my head wasn’t in it. My heart.”
“But you love music,” she said. He glanced at her, an eyebrow raising, and she frowned. “You do!”
“I do,” he said, nodding, “but for some reason I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else I love, too. Something I love more. Something I needed to stay in the city for, and instead I just left.”
Her eyes had widened, and he wondered if that had been too much. Too soon. It wasn’t wrong, but…technically they’d been back together what? A handful of hours before the curse had set in? Maybe less?
Maybe he shouldn’t be professing his undying love just yet. No matter how true it was.
“You…you couldn’t just bail on Jagged, Luka,” she said, her voice a little shaky. He sighed and nodded. He leaned onto the counter and slumped towards her, his thumb tapping against his elbow.
“I know that,” he said, “but it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I needed to be here more than I needed to be on the road. I needed to be looking for you.” She went to argue, and he looked up at her with a sad smile that made her pause. “Everyone kept telling me any real soulmate would understand. That you’d be so mad if I quit for you. It didn’t change the fact that I wanted to — that I kept worrying over how you must have felt, when I wasn’t even in the city and you had absolutely no chance of finding me. And you didn’t even remember why.”
She was looking at her arms, folded on the counter before her. She refused to meet his eyes, but he saw her lips twitch with a small smile.
“…you know,” she finally said, shaking her head. “They weren’t wrong.”
“It’s easy to say that now,” he said. “Now that the curse is broken. Now that I know who you are. But you can’t tell me the summer wasn’t absolute hell for you, too. Juleka told me.”
She looked annoyed at that, but he wasn’t sure if it was because he was right or because Juleka had said something.
“It hurt, yeah,” she finally said. “I kept thinking…I couldn’t understand why Juleka and Rose found each other so fast and my soulmate was just…gone. How I could lose someone so important to me and not find him at all. It makes sense now, but…yeah. It hurt. Ok? I was angry, and hurt, and then I was just scared because Hawkmoth was still at large and I couldn’t afford to be akumatized over being angry and hurt. But they weren’t wrong, Luka. I wanted you to go. I wanted you to have the time of your life. The me that knows you would have been furious if you had come home early.”
She was trying to look stern, he was sure, but it just made her look like she was pouting. It was adorable, and he had to smile as she puffed out her cheeks.
“That’s why I stuck it out,” he said, chuckling. The microwave dinged, and he swapped out the containers. He fished out a spoon and handed her the soup. “Nobody was really mad, I guess. They all understood. I think I was more frustrated with myself, and Jay and Penny are already figuring out how to move forward.”
“See? So you will be touring again,” she said, grinning. He chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “There’s an EP. You…I was working on it before I left.”
“I remember,” she said. “You were supposed to release it next month, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “That was weird, too. I had all these songs that I knew, and I knew they were about you, but…I couldn’t remember you. I knew they had to be about whoever I was in the booth with, because who else would I be writing about?”
“Unicorns?” she quipped, and he laughed as he shook his head.
“Shut up,” he said. “That was Rose, thank you very much. Anyway. I didn’t get much done for the EP over the summer, either. Nothing felt right when…so I know that frustrated Penny and Jay a little, having to push that date back.”
She hadn’t touched her soup yet. Her hand was reaching for his, and he smiled as he took it.
“So Penny’s throwing some shows together. Mostly local stuff,” he said. He rubbed his thumb over hers, focusing on the feel of her skin. “I’m finishing up the EP, especially now that I know where I was stuck. Making sure…shit, after all this, it’s probably not going to be long before it’s a full-length record.”
“What?” she asked, and he grinned at her.
“You know what they say: sad songs are the easy ones to write,” he said. “I’ve got enough pining and frustration built up for two records at least.”
“Don’t you dare!” she laughed, shaking her head. “Lu…no. I don’t wanna be your sad songs. Absolutely not.”
“Marinette,” he chuckled, squeezing her hand. His thumb pressed against her knuckle, his smile softening. “Don’t you know by now? You’re all my songs.”
Her eyes widened, and with the galley lights on it was too easy to see the color flooding her cheeks. He squeezed her hand again before he let go, and her eyes followed him as he walked around the counter. He was beside her in the next moment, and she breathed his name as he gathered her to his chest and tipped her head back.
“You…you can’t just say things like that,” she murmured, and he chuckled as he brushed his nose against hers.
“Sure I can,” he said, his eyes closing. “If it’s true. And it’s true, isn’t it? You know you’re in every song I write.”
He kissed her before she could answer (or argue). He was distantly aware of the microwave beeping behind them, but the leftovers suddenly didn’t seem as important as the girl in his arms. As the lips pressing against his, meeting him kiss for kiss. As the strangled little sounds he was drawing from those lips, or the hand fisting in his hair, or…
…it was fine.
They could always reheat the food again later.
They had time now, and he had more than a few songs he needed to reacquaint himself with.
— V —
She stayed home again the next day. That day. Whatever it was when the Captain bustled her way into the living room, took one look at them on the couch, and charged him with making her stay put.
It probably said a lot, how she didn’t even fight her.
So she stayed home, and he stayed with her.
He ignored his phone every time it rang.
When hers lit up with a call from Jagged, he picked it up before she could even think about grabbing it.
“She’ll call you Monday,” he said. There was a squawk from the other end, and his eyes narrowed in a glare. “You told me Monday. You can wait until Monday.”
He hung up before Jagged could squawk again.
“You were saying?” he asked once he had tossed their phones behind the couch. She twisted, trying to peek over his shoulder and the back of the couch, but he just grunted and pulled her back down. “Marinette.”
“You can’t just…what if someone important calls?” she huffed. He cocked an eyebrow, and she raised her own in challenge. “My parents?”
“…I’m already in hot water with them, I’m sure,” he said. She didn’t agree, but she didn’t argue, either. The Captain had said she’d called Tom back while Juleka had gotten dinner together. Tom had been inconsolable, babbling faster than Anarka could understand. Sabine had had to take the phone from him once she was able. They would hopefully be back by Sunday night, and Luka owed them a family dinner as soon as they could arrange it.
Her papa was upset, but only because he’d missed out on months of doting on Luka more than he usually did. If anything, he was going to be more upset with her for suggesting they go in that stupid photobooth in the first place. She knew she was.
She hadn’t been the only one to lose him, and her parents were keenly aware of that. It was a little different for the Captain, since Marinette had still been Juleka and Rose’s friend and so had still been around the Liberty, but Luka had been out of the country, and even if he had stayed in Paris…what reason did he have to go to the bakery if he didn’t remember her? Why would her parents even want him there?
“Ok. Your parents,” she huffed. His eyebrow rose even higher.
“I just hung up on one of them, and if it’s that important Ma will just come by,” he said. She rolled her eyes.
“Ok, well, what if Officer Roger calls?” she asked. She had crossed her arms over her chest, and when he frowned at her she had the nerve to smirk at him. The question was tugging at something in his mind, something from the past few days…hadn’t his ma threatened to call Roger on her, if she didn’t go to the doctor?
“…why would Uncle Roger call?” he asked.
Her smirk slipped at that.
“…Melody. Why would Officer Roger call you?” he asked. “Or me? I haven’t done anything lately.”
She looked away as she sunk into the couch, settling against him. She picked at the cuff of his sleeve, and he (gently) squeezed her middle.
“…because he has Tikki,” she finally said. She swallowed and hung her head. “He has the entire Miracle Box.”
He couldn’t have heard that right.
Roger Raincomprix had the Miracle Box?
“…what?” he asked. She dropped her head back against his shoulder, pushing out a sigh as she turned her face towards his neck. He wasn’t about to let that distract him. “Marinette. You can’t just drop something like that and not…why does Roger Raincomprix have the Miracle Box?”
“…because I can’t protect it like this,” she said, “and someone has to keep them safe. If the Guardians come for them, they’ll never think to look with the local law enforcement, right?”
“Does he even realize what he has?” he asked, shaking his head. She pressed her face against his neck, almost like she was trying to hide from him. “Marinette.”
“…you’re gonna get mad,” she said.
“I am not, and even if I did it’s ok now, right?” he asked. She peeked up at him, and the grin on his face wasn’t entirely reassuring. He still looked…concerned, and she wasn’t sure she liked that. “There’s no more Hawkmoth, remember? I can afford to get mad now.”
…she didn’t remember Luka being the sort for gallows humor. That had always been more Juleka’s thing.
“That’s not funny,” she said around a weak laugh. He kissed her shoulder.
“Neither is Roger Raincomprix guarding the Miracle Box,” he said. His brow furrowed. “Is…is this related to your injuries?”
She didn’t answer. Not at first. She bit her lip and tucked back against him, refusing to meet that worried stare. She didn’t want to worry him, but she also didn’t want to lie to him. She didn’t know how to do one without the other.
Eventually, she nodded.
“Melody…” he sighed. “What the hell happened? Why won’t you just tell me?”
…because she didn’t want to. Because she didn’t want to think about that night, about the ugly truth of it all. The anger. The hurt. The betrayals. The crazed look in Chat’s eyes when the lights had come up in the underground garden and he had seen…and then when he had rounded on her. The helplessness and, ultimately, the pain. Yes, they could afford to feel a little negativity now, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. She didn’t want to share that darkness with Luka, who had already hinted at harboring his own darkness about that night. He already felt…some kind of way about things — about what must have happened, about not being there, about not knowing he should have been there — and she didn’t want to add to that.
It wasn’t his burden to carry. In the end.
There were choices she had made. Choices she had been forced to make. And she knew he would understand — of course he would, he always did — and yet…she shook her head and twisted, and he barely caught her leg before she could wallop him with her cast again.
She couldn’t hurt him like that. She wouldn’t.
“…you know, as much as I love the idea of pampering you…” he started to say, his fingers tapping against her cast, “I really can’t wait until you get this thing off.” His tone was light, teasing, but she could still hear the worry lacing his words. She glanced up at him, and the grin he shot her was almost leering. “You’re dangerous.”
Her answering smile was small, but it was still a smile. He’d take it.
“It’s so bulky and inconvenient,” she huffed. She poked at his stomach, and he chuckled. “I just want to cuddle, and I have this giant weapon on my leg preventing that.”
“You say that like your legs aren’t already weapons on their own,” he laughed. He squeezed her closer and leaned his head against hers. “Or like I wouldn’t find a way to cuddle you anyway. Now stop trying to distract me. How did this happen? And why does Roger have the Miracle Box? What happened that night, Marinette?”
“What do you want me to tell you, Luka?” she sighed, sinking lower into the couch. “I know you knew who Chat Noir was. Did you know who Hawkmoth was, too?”
“You know I would have told you if I did,” he said. “Fuck the rules. I wouldn’t have kept that one from you.”
“So you didn’t know that Hawkmoth was Chat Noir’s father,” she said. He stilled, his eyes widening, and she pushed out a breath as she picked at the padding at the top of her cast. “Or that the reason he wanted my Miraculous so bad was because Émilie Agreste wasn’t actually missing but dead in his basement?”
“…what?” he choked out. She pressed her face into his shoulder, and the fingers holding onto his side pressed into him so hard it almost hurt. He rubbed her back, and her grip loosened just slightly. “Marinette. No.”
“Adrien…Adrien lost it. And I can’t blame him,” she said. “Please don’t be mad at him. He…he didn’t…”
“…Adrien did this?” he asked, his voice tense. When she didn’t immediately answer, his jaw clenched and his grip tightened. “Marinette. Adrien did this to you?”
“He didn’t mean it, Luka. He wasn’t himself,” she said. She laid a hand on his arm, and after taking a deep breath his grip loosened a little. He tucked his face between her neck and shoulder, and his next breath felt shaky. “It was an accident.”
“He seems to have a lot of accidents, melody,” he said. His hand clenched into a fist, and she sighed as she covered it with her own. “Especially around his Lady. He’s reckless, and you —”
“Will be fine. Better than he’ll be, at least,” she said. She twisted, grunting as she tried to swing her casted leg over his, and she gave him a Look when he caught it again and lifted an eyebrow at her. “Luka, let me —”
“Let you what?” he asked. “Because of that dumbass, this cast goes up past your knee — which means you can’t bend it, which means…actually…”
“What are you — h-hey!” she yelped, gasping as he slipped an arm around her and leaned her back against the couch. She grabbed at his shoulder, her hand fisting in his hoodie as her eyes scrunched tight, and he chuckled as he moved with her until she was lying down on the couch and he was lying beside her. She blinked open her eyes, and her breath caught when he was suddenly right there in front of her. She swallowed and tugged on his hoodie. “Ass…asshole.”
“Better,” he hummed, brushing his nose against hers. His hand brushed along her side, and she sucked in a breath when it was suddenly on her thigh, just above where the cast ended but also just under her skirt. “What did he do, Marinette?”
“Does it matter?” she asked softly. “Does it really matter, in the end? It’s done, Luka. We can’t go back and change it. I can’t even tell you where he is for you to yell at him. Roger found his Miraculous on the bri…”
She stopped, biting down on her lip before she said too much — because really. What good would it do? What good would it do for Luka to know how Adrien had lost his mind, lashing out at everyone and everything in his path? How she had already cast the Miracle Cure and had been trying to calm him down when he’d shoved her away? How the battle had been long, and hard, and they had both been exhausted, so she hadn’t been strong enough to stop herself when she’d stumbled on something, most likely her own damn feet, and straight over the rail of the sky bridge?
How she had been hurt, bad, and too weak for her suit — for Tikki — to protect her from the fall? How Chat — how Adrien — must have run, because when she came to hours later in the hospital the only sign of him had been the ring Roger Raincomprix had found at the top of the bridge?
It would only hurt him. Make him angry. And for what? It wasn’t like either of them could do anything about it now. It was better to just…let it go.
Except Luka had always been so perceptive. It was what made him such a good Snake.
“…he left you like this,” he said, his hand tensing on her thigh. “He hurt you, and then he left you for anyone to find?”
“Officer Roger found me,” she said. “He got me help. He knows…he knows everything. Gabriel Agreste is dead, Luka. Hawkmoth is gone. I have his Miraculous back, and Nooroo is resting in the Box. They all are. Officer Roger is keeping them safe for me.”
“I can’t believe you told Uncle Roger,” Luka scoffed. He paused, and then his eyes widened as he looked at her, something else from the past few days tugging at his mind. “…you told Ma.” She bit her lip, and then his mouth dropped open. “Jules?”
“…Juleka is my Tiger,” she said. “And the Captain…I can’t work on secrets anymore, Luka. Look at what it’s brought me. So yes, Uncle Roger knows. And the Captain and Juleka.”
He watched her for a long moment, his jaw tense as a million questions raced through his mind.
…or maybe just one.
Because he had already known, before anyone else — he was probably the first to know, thanks to his Miraculous. But there was someone else who had known, too.
“…that’s why, isn’t it?” Rose asked, her voice soft and so quiet. So different from her usual bubbly exuberance. He watched her carefully, his lips pursed and expression neutral. He wouldn’t confirm or deny what he knew — and she had probably known that before she even thought to ask. Of course he wouldn’t. He could be trusted with secrets, too. “Why you…you’d do anything to keep her safe, even if it means you’re both miserable because of it. Because you really do love her.”
“…I do,” he said, and it was all he would say. Because the fate of the city didn’t depend on anyone knowing how crazy, stupid in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng he was. He had never kept that a secret.
“I won’t tell anyone. About you or her. I just…you had to know. I know you do,” she said, looking up with a nervous smile. “And you’ll keep her safe. You’ll keep us all safe.”
He wouldn’t confirm or deny it.
It wasn’t his secret to tell, and too much was riding on the enormity of that secret.
But this was Rose, and if anyone knew how to keep a secret…
“With my last breath,” he said, nodding. Her smile was more her when she nodded.
“Good,” she said. She winked at him. “I’d have to kick your butt otherwise.”
It had been years ago. Shortly after their first breakup, shortly after his suspicions about Marinette’s identity had actually been confirmed. Back when all of their friends were still scrambling to understand the why of things, when everyone knew they should still be together and couldn’t understand why they weren’t.
It had been easier, back then, to let them all believe it was because of Adrien. He had, too, for a moment. Before he had known.
But he wasn’t the only perceptive one, and Rose…Rose had ways of knowing things. Figuring things out. And she had always been damn good at keeping a secret, when it mattered.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers.
“…does Rose know?” he asked. He felt her brow scrunching under his, and knew before she said anything that she did not.
“I…I wanted to,” she said. “Juleka’s been trying to convince me to. But…I love Rose, Luka. You know I do. But it’s Rose. Can I really trust her with this? I know Roger won’t tell anyone. I know you and Juleka and the Captain won’t. I know Rose won’t mean to, but…she’s Rose. I don’t trust that she won’t accidentally let it slip.”
“She might surprise you, melody,” he said. He brushed his nose against hers again before kissing her. “She’s family, Marinette. As much as you are. I really think she’d surprise you.”
She glanced away at that, and he kissed her again.
“What?” he murmured against her lips. “What is it?”
“…my parents know, too,” she whispered after a moment. That…didn’t surprise him as much as it probably should, all things considered. As much as it would have, before.
“You told Tom and Sabine?” he asked softly. She nodded.
“I had to get them out of the city,” she said. “I didn’t know what was going to happen. I couldn’t fight Hawkmoth and worry about them, too.”
“I thought you said Gina was sick,” he said. She shrugged.
“That was the official story,” she said. “Honestly, it was just lucky timing. She actually is sick, but she didn’t need both of them there. The mess with getting back was dumb luck.”
“They’ll be back soon enough,” he said, bending to press his forehead to hers. “You can stay once they’re back, you know. There’s kind of a lot of steps at your place.”
“I’ll have to learn to navigate stairs eventually,” she sighed. “I can’t stay out of school indefinitely. Luka, I take the BAC this year. I don’t want to repeat an entire grade.”
“There’s a service lift,” he said. “We can get you a wheelchair.”
“Oh, joy,” she grumped. She had had enough of wheelchairs during her hospital stay. “I have to go home eventually, Luka.”
“Says who?” he huffed. “I like you here.”
“I like me here, too,” she admitted. He smiled and kissed her, and she was smiling, too, when he pulled away. “But it doesn’t change the fact that eventually I have to work on getting better. Getting stronger.”
“You’re already pushing yourself harder than you should be,” he said. She went to argue, because she wasn’t, but he cut her off with a kiss. “You are, melody. I didn’t even remember you and I could see that. You need to rest. Let your body heal.”
He kissed her again, and she gasped when his hand squeezed her thigh and lifted her leg to press against his side. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, and it was hard to remember what they had been arguing about when he pulled back.
“I can’t make out with you properly with this in the way, after all,” he teased, and she gasped as he grinned at her. “And you still sound wheezy when I kiss you too much. I want to leave you breathless, melody, but not because your ribs hurt too much to take a decent breath.”
“You wanna make out with me?” she asked, a small smile curling her lips. He laughed softly and kissed her again, though he pulled back when his hand moved a little too high on her side and she winced. “Ok…maybe I see your point…”
“Adrien hasn’t reached out at all?” he asked, and she sighed before shaking her head. “And he knows now? Who you are?”
“He has to,” she said. “Officer Roger said I wasn’t transformed when he found me. Tikki was barely conscious — he had to give her a granola bar to get her strength back, and he said she complained the entire time because it didn’t have chocolate chips in it.”
“Sounds like Tikki,” he chuckled. He brushed his thumb beneath her eye and sighed. “I hate it every time you say he found you. I hate that Adrien just left you like this. I don’t care if it was an accident, Marinette. If he ever loved you even half as much as he always claimed, he couldn’t have done that.”
“He’s not the one who loves me, remember? He’s not my soulmate,” she said, reaching up to lay her hand on his cheek. “He’s not my loyal Snake.”
“Did Sass…did the curse affect him, too?” he asked. She nodded.
“I was thinking that’s why I kept having nightmares about…why I kept dreaming about you,” she said. “He could remember a holder, but not who his holder was. I could remember I called him Vi, but I could never find any media footage of the Snake. In my dreams, Vi was always there, just out of reach. Just a second too late.”
“I should have been there,” he said. He laid down beside her and pulled her back against his chest. “I could have stopped this.”
“No, you couldn’t have,” she said. “You would have been on tour.”
“You would have told me you were going against him, and I would have found a way to come back,” he insisted. “Pegasus. A red eye. Something.”
“I would have sent you away, just like I did my parents,” she said. “Lu. In the end…I didn’t want anyone there. Even Chat…I didn’t want both of us facing Hawkmoth, since he needed both of us to make his wish, but you know Chat wouldn’t listen. You at least have that in common.”
“Hey,” he protested. She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed his knuckles, and he sighed. “Maybe you’re right. You can’t tell me you couldn’t have used a Second Chance, though.”
“It was too dangerous. Of course I could have. Of course I would have wanted you there. But in the end I wasn’t willing to risk anyone but myself,” she said.
“You hear how that’s not any better, right?” he asked, tucking his face against her shoulder. “You hear how that’s actually a lot worse.”
“Luka, stop,” she groaned. “Please. I don’t want to fight. It’s done.”
He didn’t answer immediately. He kept his face tucked against her shoulder, and he held her close as he breathed her in. She laid her hands over his, and she smiled when his thumb started rubbing against her shirt. He kissed her shoulder, and her smile grew.
“Sorry,” he finally said. “I just…I hate this. I hate all of this. I lost you, and when I lost you I almost really lost you. I’m not ok with that, Marinette.”
“I’m not asking you to be,” she said. “I’m just asking that you accept that it’s already happened.”
“That sounds a hell of a lot like be ok with it,” he snorted. She rolled her eyes and picked at one of his bracelets, snapping it.
“Accept what’s already happened and find a way to move on from there,” she said. “You got me back, and we’re gonna be ok. I’m gonna be ok. This…it’s like you keep saying. Bones heal. I’ll be fine in no time.”
“…right,” he said, though he didn’t really sound convinced. Her nose scrunched, and she snapped at his bracelet again. “Forgive me for freaking out a little. I love you, Marinette. I hate that I wasn’t there to help. I know that it probably wouldn’t have made a difference, but tell my stupid heart that.”
“Hey,” she said, twisting to look over her shoulder at him. “I love that stupid heart, you know.”
She felt him smile against her shoulder, and the next time she picked at his bracelet she maybe didn’t snap it as hard.
“It loves you, too,” he said. He lifted his head and leaned over her shoulder to kiss her. “I’ll never be ok with you being hurt, Marinette, but…I’ll freak out a little less in a few days. When this isn’t so new. So raw.”
“It’s over, Luka,” she said, brushing her nose against his. “He’s gone. Paris is safe. We’re safe.”
“…we’re safe,” he said, ducking his head back against her shoulder and holding her close. Her head rested against his bicep, and her fingers kept toying with that bracelet as he started humming.
She didn’t look at his wrist, and so she didn’t notice. Even as she wondered why it was stretchier — snappier — than his usual bracelets.
But he was still wearing her hair ties on his wrists.
— V —
“You don't have to do this, you know,” she said later on, after their cuddles had turned into makeouts and back to cuddles and then more naps. She had been complaining about how gross her hair felt after they’d woken up and she’d tried to tame its sleep-mussed state, and she hadn’t really been thinking when she’d wondered aloud if Juleka would help her with a shower when she got home. He hadn’t given her much time to say anything else before he was scooping her up again and hauling her towards the bathroom.
“Who needs to wait for Juleka?” he’d asked, smiling down at her as he passed sideways through their door. “I’m here.”
…she had been a little too…she hadn’t wanted…the idea of Luka seeing…and she felt so dirty, what with how complicated showering was now…
She’d been sitting on the toilet while he went to hunt down a chair before she’d been able to process what was about to happen.
The idea of him seeing her naked still freaked her out a little (and maybe just a little more than it excited her), but she had settled for letting him wash her hair, at least. There was a utility sink by the laundry they had used for dye nights in the past, and he had just smiled at her before hooking the folding chair on his elbow and scooping her up again.
“I could have waited for Juleka and Rose,” she continued, glancing up at him. “I also could have walked.”
He tapped her nose with a sudsy finger and smiled.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he said. “You're making me nervous.”
“Luka!” she laughed. His hands were back in her hair, and she moaned as her head fell back over the sink. “God, that feels good…”
“So I do have to do this,” he chuckled, giving her head a little scratch. Her nose wrinkled adorably.
“No, you don't,” she sighed. “...but I appreciate that you are. I should be able to wash my hair by myself.”
“You're hurt,” he reminded her. “It’s ok to lean on us a little. It's ok to lean on me a lot.”
“Luka…” she sighed. He bent and kissed her forehead.
“Let me take care of you,” he said. “At least where I can. Juleka can help with your shower if you're more comfortable with that, but let me help where I can.”
“…are you mad I got weird about that?” she asked, opening her eyes again. His eyebrows lifted on his forehead, and she wasn’t sure if the Look he was giving her was because of her question or because she’d opened her eyes again.
“Of course not,” he said. He bent and kissed her forehead, just below the suds. She giggled when he pulled back and there was shampoo on his nose. “Eyes, melody.”
“Nose, Luka,” she giggled, but she closed her eyes all the same. One of his hands left her hair momentarily. She assumed it was to brush the suds off his nose. “I just…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Marinette,” he said. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m not pushing for anything here. You said you needed a shower, and right now it’s too much to get one on your own. Just wrapping your cast up is going to be a workout on its own. And I get it — washing up will help you feel human again.”
“So human,” she sighed. He chuckled and kissed her forehead again.
“I love you. I want to help you, and I’m here,” he said, his fingers scratching again. She hummed, and he kissed her nose. “Take advantage of that. Take advantage of me.”
…she bit her lip as those words made a little thrill run through her, but she wasn’t sure now was the best time to discuss how his asking her to take advantage of him had made her feel.
Maybe him helping her shower wouldn’t be the worst thing…
“I just…you don't have to. You know? I feel like it's penance — like you’re trying to make up for being gone while…you don't have anything to make up for, Luka. That’s all,” she sighed. His hands stilled in her hair, and then his lips were against hers. She gasped, her eyes popping open, and then closing again when she felt his tongue brush against hers. A hand lifted from her lap, her fingers skimming along his jaw — and then pressing firmly against his skin when the touch made his fingers twist in her hair and a little moan slipped past her lips. He greedily swallowed it, and for a moment it was hard to remember what they had been…had they been fighting about something?
It had seemed so important, just a second ago…
“I don't have to,” he finally said after a long moment, his voice firm and kind of breathless. “I want to.”
He kissed her again, a bit deeper that time, and a happy little hum escaped her as she reached up to grip his arm. Her other hand slid around to the back of his neck, holding him close. They were both smiling when he pulled away.
“Let me take care of you,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers one more time. “Isn’t that what you do when you love someone? You take care of them?”
“I guess so,” she said, her eyes closing again as she leaned back. Her hair was never going to get done at this rate. “Thank you, Luka.”
“Of course, Marinette,” he said. She smiled when she felt him press one more kiss to her forehead before his hands left her hair to reach for the hose. “Any time.”
— V —
“I still have a shirt for you, you know.”
He glanced up at her voice, his eyebrows lifting. She was stretched out on his bed (a sight he hadn’t realized how sorely he had missed and one he definitely wouldn’t mind getting used to again), her head pillowed on her arms as she watched him. His pillows — and two of Juleka’s — were propped under her leg, propping it up. She had laughed as he’d settled her in, but he was pretty sure he’d heard somewhere that elevating broken legs was important for blood flow and circulation or something. She had given him that Look that told him he was hovering again, but remembering him was still too new to get too annoyed by it.
…she could call him a mother hen later. It wouldn’t stop his fussing either way.
“You plan on making clothes for a living,” he said, looking back at his suitcase. He had set it up on the floor, out of sight, and was kind of glad he had. She’d have Words for the state it was in. “I’m pretty sure you’re always gonna have a shirt for me.”
“Fair,” she laughed, “but I meant right now. One I was supposed to give you the morning you left.”
He looked up again, a different shirt in his hands and halfway to his nose. He couldn’t remember if it needed washed or not.
…he should probably just wash all of it. Just to be safe. The last week or so of the tour had been a little hectic. He remembered wanting to use the hotel laundromat at one of the last stops, but there had been a mix-up with the schedule that had pulled them back to the bus quicker than anticipated. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a chance to do anything but wash something out in the hotel sink or bus shower.
Her words had triggered something, though. Another half-remembered something he had been so sure of three months ago but still felt hazy now.
“You made my stage clothes,” he said, his brow furrowing. “You’re Jay’s frock star.”
“Noooo, stop,” she laughed, rolling on her side so she could swat at him. He caught her fingers and kissed the backs instead. “I hate it when he calls me that. It’s so cheesy.”
“It’s rock-n-roll,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I love that jacket, by the way. I couldn’t wait to get back and meet his secret weapon to thank her for it. That’s probably why he was calling earlier, actually. He wants to order some more pieces for the fall and winter.”
“You told him Monday, so he can wait until Monday,” she said. She scooted closer, or tried to until he put a hand against her shoulder to hold her back. She rolled her eyes. “Luka. I’m not an invalid — I’m in recovery. I can’t recover if I don’t move.”
“Humor me,” he hummed, turning back to his bag. When he glanced up to find she was still pouting at him, he sighed. “…please? I’ll try to be better about it tomorrow. Today…let me freak out a little today?”
“I’m going to be fine,” she said. “Weren’t you the one who kept telling me this was nothing?”
“Yeah, but that’s when it was you and not you,” he said. She snorted, and he dropped the shirts back into the suitcase to push himself up and kiss her. Her hand gripped his collar, and he tangled a hand in her hair to keep her close. His didn’t go far when he pulled back, his lips still brushing against hers as he spoke. “It’s still fresh, melody. A little raw. Please just humor me?”
“…ok,” she whispered, and then he smiled as he kissed her again. “My point was. I have a shirt for you. You could come home with me Sunday and get it. I’m really upset you didn’t have it on tour with you. It was special.”
“Everything you make is special,” he said, “and why don’t you just have your parents bring it here?”
“Because they’re stopping here to get me before going home?” she reminded him. “Unless you want to drive me over in the van. Then they can just go straight home.”
“You’re not going home, melody,” he said. She rolled her eyes and dropped her head back on her arm.
“This again?” she sighed. He gave up on figuring out what clothes were clean or not and reached for the basket they kept by the partition. “Luka, I have to go home eventually.”
“Eventually. When you’re stronger and can manage all those steps,” he said. He glanced over at her, his brow pinched in another frown. “How about you manage the steps here before you attempt the bakery? Marinette. Your bed is a loft.”
“Papa can pull the mattress down,” she said. “Besides. It’s going to take months for my leg to heal. I can’t kick you out of your own bed for months.”
“Who says you’re kicking me out?” he asked, looking up again. Her eyes widened as a pretty blush stained her cheeks, and he paused as he watched her. “…unless you don’t want me to…I just thought…last night…”
“I-it’s…I mean…” she rolled onto her back, her eyes locked fixedly on the ceiling, but her entire face was red now. He tried not to smile too wide at the pout on her face. She pressed her lips together, stubbornly refusing to answer. He scooted closer to the bed, the hoodie he’d been about to drop in the basket still in his hands, and leaned onto the edge. He reached for her hand, smiling when her fingers shooed at his before slipping between them.
“I can sleep on the couch if you’re more comfortable,” he said. “…or I can dig out the air mattress and sleep right here. I would feel better with that option. In case you needed help in the middle of the night.”
“You mean in case someone with bony-ass elbows tries to squish me again?” she quipped, and he laughed and squeezed her hand.
“Well, we won’t need the air mattress if I’m allowed to squish you, now will we?” he teased. She bit down on a smile, but she didn’t look at him. “Whatever you’re ok with, melody. I just…I would prefer you be ok here.”
“Technically. Technically,” she said, her fingertips tapping anxiously against his knuckles. “We’re not technically dating yet. And you’re…this sounds an awful lot like asking me to move in with you.”
He practically jumped onto the bed, moving until he was crouched above her with her hands in his beside her head and his mouth on hers, swallowing the startled little gasp that had escaped her when he’d moved. Her good leg bent, her knee bumping against his bony ass and pushing him closer, and the sound he made when her tongue tentatively swiped along his own had her pushing him closer. He hadn’t meant to get carried away, but it was so easy with Marinette seemingly encouraging it every step of the way. She whimpered when he pulled away, her neck craning to reach for his lips again when he pressed his forehead to hers.
“…who says we’re not dating?” he asked, his voice a little strained and breathless. “We’ve been on a date.”
“That was not a date,” she huffed. “You told me it wasn’t — something about kissing me a lot sooner if it had been? I want a proper date, Luka. With…I don’t know. Flowers and candles and stuff.”
“We’re still dating. Together — soulmates,” he said. “Didn’t that stupid photobooth prove that?”
She tried not to balk at the term. Technically, there was nothing to prove that whoever you went into the booth with was your soulmate — it was just what people usually said. Because the only people that ended up cursed were…well. Together. Usually madly, deeply, not-likely-to-break-up (or at least definitely-getting-back-together-if-they-do) Together.
It always sounded pretty close to a soulmate. If you believed in things like destiny and fate.
And Marinette was pretty sure she did.
“We can be together,” she conceded, “but we can’t be dating until you actually take me out on a date.”
He snorted, and then laughed at the absurdity of it all. He was still on top of her, and she tried to ignore how that felt, when he was that close and laughing like that.
It felt a little like she wished it was three months ago, when her leg wasn’t broken and her ribs weren’t bruised and she had been able to climb on top of him and kiss him senseless.
“That makes zero sense, melody,” he said. He kissed her again, a little deeper and a little slower. He settled his weight more firmly over her, and her hands squeezed his as she leaned up into him. “We’re dating. I’m yours, whatever you want to call it. And if not for the fact that Penny and Sabine would insist we wait until after you pass the BAC, yes, I would definitely be asking you to move in with me. Your key will probably come with a ring.”
“Lu-Luka!” she laughed as he tried to kiss her again. He leaned a little too much into her, and she hissed as she pulled away. He pulled back, frowning. “S-sorry. Ribs.”
“Sorry,” he said. He scooted back a little, settling lower on her thighs until he could bend a press a kiss high on her stomach, right below her breasts. “I’m so sorry, Marinette.”
“Stop,” she said. “You have nothing to apologize for. I wasn’t complaining.”
He looked up at her, a small smirk on his lips and an eyebrow raised, and she rolled her eyes.
“I wasn’t,” she huffed. “Not about that, at least. I…I like that.”
One day, hopefully one day soon, her body would be healed, and he planned on spending a very long time after mapping out every centimeter of it with his lips. Memorizing what made her gasp and moan, and not in a stop-ow-that-hurts kind of way. Learning to play her like his favorite guitar. Learning how to make her sing — and maybe, dare he say it…scream.
But that would be later. After she had healed.
He could wait.
She was fine, and he had her back, and they’d have time. One day would come, and then…
“Why…why only Penny and Maman, anyway?” she asked. He was still peppering gentle little kisses along her stomach, his hands firmly holding onto her hips to keep himself grounded, and he hummed at her question. One of her hands reached down to sink into his hair, her nails scratching along his scalp. He looked up, leaning into her touch a little, and she smiled softly at him. “You don’t think the Captain and Papa would have anything to say about it? Or Jagged?”
“Please,” he snorted. His thumbs slipped beneath her top to rub at her skin, and she bit down on her lip as her hips rolled against him. He smiled a little at her reaction and bent to drop more gentle kisses along her ribs. “Ma won’t care, and your dad…actually, both our dads would be cutting the keys themselves. I don’t know which one will be more excited about this.”
“Are you saying we have shippers?” she giggled. He looked up at her, a grin curling his lips.
“Have you met Rose?” he teased. Her head fell back, laughter bubbling past her lips, and her neck looked entirely too much like something he needed to be kissing, so he did. Her hand dropped from his hair, falling onto the bed and bunching in the hoodie he’d abandoned there. “We don’t just have shippers, melody. We have an entire fan club.”
She choked on a laugh, and he chuckled as he scraped his teeth along her throat — and then she was gasping, her hand twisting in his hoodie and —
“…what…what’s this?” she asked, distracted. He hummed, still a little too preoccupied by her throat to pay too much attention to what had distracted her. Her knee nudged into his hips, and he groaned.
“Marinette, I’m trying to convince you to stay aboard here,” he said, nipping at her neck again. “…and abed.”
She snorted. Her head rose to press against his shoulder, muffling her laughter between them.
“Is that what you were doing?” she asked.
“I like you here,” he said, kissing a bit lower on her throat. “I like you right here.”
“We’ll talk to my parents,” she said. The blush he could feel on her cheeks told him she liked right here, too. She pushed him back a little and brought up whatever had distracted her. “But what’s…oh.”
It was the strip of photos.
He had almost forgotten about it, in light of…well. Everything.
He’d certainly forgotten that the last time he’d seen it had been stuffed in the pocket of that hoodie, at least.
But Marinette was staring at the pictures, a silly little smile on her face as her thumb brushed along the white strip on the edge. She leaned her head back against his pillow, and he sighed as he dropped to her side, careful of both her leg and her ribs (the last thing they needed was him injuring her good leg). He settled his head beside hers, watching for a lingering moment before turning his eyes towards the photos. He absently noted that they looked normal now. The couple smiling back at them also looked worlds younger.
It was hard to believe it had only been three months ago.
“I don’t regret it, you know,” she said. He turned his head slightly to kiss her shoulder.
“Really?” he asked. “I do. I think I get Juleka’s thing with pictures now.”
“What?” she asked. “You mean her photo curse?”
“There was never a photo curse, Marinette,” he said, glancing up at her. “It was something she made up because after the booth she was terrified of losing Rose again. Of losing anyone again. She actively avoided having her photo taken until the camera just…avoided her.”
“You…are you planning on avoiding pictures, too?” she asked. “If you get it now?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” he said. “I’m kinda famous now, right? I don’t think I can avoid it.”
“Good,” she sniffed. “I want pictures of you, Luka. Of us.”
He leaned up, twisting to kiss her again. He liked the sound of that. Of an us.
“I’m just saying I get it,” he said. “I knew about the booth, Mari. I knew what it could do. What it could cost. And I should have fought you more on it. We lost so much time, and you were alone when…”
“I thought I told you to stop that?” she asked, twisting to curl against him. It was awkward, with her leg, so he leaned her back on the bed and curled around her instead. She smiled when he even hooked a leg over her good one. “I didn’t use anyone, Luka.”
“You could’ve used me,” he insisted.
“And then you’d be the one with the broken leg, and what would Jagged say about that?” she argued. “What would Penny say?”
“I know,” he sighed. “I’ll get over it, I promise. Just…not today. Not today.”
Probably not until he could kiss her without her ribs giving her trouble. Definitely not until that damn cast was off. He glanced down at the cast, and he frowned when a little sunglass-wearing pineapple grinned up at him from the top. He had almost forgotten Dingo had been doodling on the cast yesterday.
Yesterday felt like a lifetime of yesterdays ago.
…she needed some better doodles. He wondered if she’d let him fix that later. He kind of hated that Dingo had gotten to sign her cast first. There was a blank spot, right near her ankle, that would look perfect with some music notes dotted along it…
“I still like these,” she said after a moment, holding the strip of photos back up. She smiled as she tapped a finger against his surprised face in the next-to-last one. “That one’s my favorite. I don’t like that we lost so much time, either, and I am sorry for that. But I can’t regret that kiss.”
“I will never regret any kiss with you,” he said, dropping another kiss against her shoulder to prove his point. “Just…can we maybe have the next one away from any potentially cursed photobooths?”
“Can you get cursed a second time?” she asked, frowning as she looked back at the photos. “Have you ever heard of anyone using the booth a second time?”
“Everyone knows about the booth,” he said, “but nobody talks about it. I always thought that was kind of weird, but I think I get why now.”
She hummed. She reached to prop the photos up on his bedside amp, where they could smile back at them, and curled against him.
“So no, then,” she said. He sighed and kissed her forehead.
“No, melody,” he said. “I’ve never heard of anyone using it a second time.”
“So…I still want pictures of you, but no more photobooths, then?” she asked, peeking up at him. He tipped her head back, his thumb brushing along her chin, and kissed her.
“No more photobooths,” he whispered a moment later. She smiled up at him, and it was so much better than the smile looking back at them from the photos. It was hers, and real, and his, and…well. Knowing all of that, he just had to kiss her again.
— V —
On the other side of the city, a young couple was stumbling out of a cinema, laughing over the movie they had just seen. The girl, a brunette with sparkling eyes dancing behind large black glasses, grinned up at her boyfriend as she quoted one of the sillier lines.
“It was so bad,” she laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. He shook his head before resting it on hers. The arms looped through his own tightened. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into seeing it. I wanted dinosaurs, but no — we had to go for the action comedy.”
“Ok, ok,” he laughed, kissing her head. “You can pick next time. Still. Not a total waste of a night, right? There were some good parts. I really liked the swamp scene.”
A blush rose on her cheeks. She was sure he did — he’d spent most of the swamp scene with his tongue down her throat and his hand…well. She had actually really enjoyed the swamp scene, too.
“I guess it’s earned you another date,” she teased, glancing up at him. They rounded the corner, and she froze when she saw it.
One of those old photobooths, the kind you used to see in carnivals and arcades and such. It was tucked against the back wall of the cinema, like it had recently been removed from the lobby and was awaiting permanent removal by a trash company. She wondered if it still worked.
As if on cue, the timers on the street lamps flickered on — and so did the lights on the booth.
“Look!” she said, excited. “Do you think it’ll work? We can get pictures.”
“Seriously? We could take pictures right now, on our phones, for free,” he said. She nudged his side.
“You made me sit through that awful movie,” she said. “Humor me and take some silly pictures with me? C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
He looked over at the booth, and he frowned when the lights seemed to flicker. He blinked and shook his head, and when he opened his eyes the booth was still there. Perfectly innocuous. Perfectly normal. And his girl was still looking up at him with perfectly kissable lips puckered into a little pout.
“Fine,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and giving her a smile. “But only because you look so damn cute tonight.”
She laughed as she tugged him towards the booth, and he felt his smile growing as he followed her.
Besides.
It was just an old photobooth.
What was the worst that could happen?