#lbsc

That morning, as he had been organizing his own school books and binders, he found the small hair clip sitting forlornly on the deck of the Liberty. It must have fallen out of Juleka’s backpack, he realized, considering the haste with which she had raced off to meet Rose.

Thus, he now found himself down the street from the school, approaching the corner where a charming bakery huddled adjacent to the campus.

Only, just as he reached the crosswalk, an old man with a cane hobbled out into the road, where—

“Whoah, watch out!”

Luka skidded to a stop, tearing off his helmet as he ran to grab the man’s left arm. At the same time, another girl in pigtails, one arm burdened with a pastry box, ran out into the oncoming traffic to grab onto the man’s right.

Narrowly missing the bumper of a passing car, Luka huffed in relief as all three of them staggered back onto the edge of the sidewalk — but not before the girl in pigtails tripped, landing heavily on her hands and knees.

The crosswalk flicked green, then, and pedestrians began to obliviously mill past.

“Are you okay?” Luka bent down to grab the girl by the elbow, just as a cane appeared in his peripheral vision. “Are you hurt?”

The old man they had rescued edged closer to clear his throat before the girl could respond.

“Thank you, both of you,” he said before eyeing the box the girl had dropped. Pistachio green macaron shells lay shattered along the cement. “Oh! What a disaster.”

“Don’t worry, I’m no stranger to disaster. Besides, there are still a few left,” the girl responded buoyantly as she sat up and recovered the surviving cookies. She turned to Luka. “Oh! And y-yes! I’m okay! I’m just such a clutz, thank you for helping me.”

Her cheeks were dusted with a subtle pink as she looked up at Luka, his hand still resting gingerly on her arm.

She’s cute, he thought to himself before glancing back toward the crosswalk. And kind. Maybe I should—

The school bell rang, then, and the girl whipped her head back around, her eyes wide.

“Oh no, I’m going to be late!” She stood and hurriedly shut the lid of the pastry box before angling back toward the road. “H-have a nice day!”

“Wait!” Luka grabbed the girl’s wrist before she could barrel across to the campus. “You go to Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“I-uh, yes?”

“You don’t happen to know Juleka Couffaine, do you?”

The girl straightened and turned fully back toward Luka, her eyes flicking to where his fingers curled around her wrist. Her blush reemerged, albeit more brightly this time.

“I do! W-we’re in the game sass together! Well, I-I mean the same class,” she clarified nervously. “We’ve b-been in the same class. Together. Maybe we’ll be in the same class together again, this year, I mean.”

Luka just chuckled and grabbed the clip from where he had stuffed it in his pocket on the way out.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Ma-ma-Marinette.”

“Well, ma-ma-Marinette, if you happen to see Juleka, can you please give this to her?” With one hand still on her upturned wrist, Luka pressed the clip into her palm. “You can tell her that her brother Luka dropped it off.”

________

If she thought about it hard enough, Marinette could imagine she still felt the pressure on her hand from where the boy — well, where Luka — had pressed Juleka’s hair clip into her palm, even though weeks had gone by.

Juleka was, in fact, in her class again, which seemed to work to Marinette’s advantage.

As time went on, Luka made increasingly regular appearances after school, primarily to pick up Juleka and walk her back to the Liberty at the end of the day.

And if Marinette made the conscious decision to linger around the front steps of the school under the guise of sketching or organizing her backpack, who needed to be the wiser? (Albeit Tikki did occasionally chide her for running even later than usual.)

But every day that Luka took the time to stop, say hello, and ask to see her sketches, she knew that the loss of time was worth it. “Hey, Marinette!”

Absolutely worth it.

________

Despite the fact that everything had turned out well in the end, Luka wasn’t sure that his righteous anger that morning had been worth it.

And as much as he refused to show it, he felt a twisting pit of shame and apprehension in his stomach.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had just released him from Hawkmoth’s akuma, and he was about to take center stage with the rest of Kitty Section for their well-earned television debut. While this moment should have been exhilarating — triumphant, even — all he could think about was what Marinette must think of him now.

Marinette, who always went out of her way to help those around her.

Marinette, who spent what precious little time she had making costumes for the band.

Marinette, who was kind and gentle, and had now seen him at his worst.

Who had now seen him as a villain… literally.

Luka took a steadying breath, one thumb skimming nervously over his Kitty Section mask as he prepared to step out in front of the cameras… until he felt warm fingers encircling his wrist.

He half-turned, the pit in his stomach sinking even further.

“Luka?” Marinette stood there before him, one hand bashfully coming up to her face. “Did you really mean those things you said when you were akumatized?”

Wait, was she… blushing? No, that couldn’t be.

Not after today.

“I'm sorry, Marinette, but I don't remember,” Luka said slowly as the pit twisted itself into butterflies. “What did I say?”

“Uh, oh, n-nothing,” Marinette stuttered. She looked down and rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. “It was nothing at all. You were possessed by Hawkmoth's akuma.”

“I don't know what I possibly could've said. I just hope it wasn't anything mean, because—”

He had to tell her how he felt. Now. Because if he didn’t, what else was she supposed to think? What if what he said while he was akumatized made her think that he didn’t—

“—You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette.” He grabbed her shoulders earnestly. “As clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You’re the music that’s been playing inside my head since the first day we met.”

The words sat right on his tongue, as well-rehearsed as his fingers on the frets of his guitar. He squeezed his hands once more on her shoulders before turning around to take the stage.

Though he had just recovered from being Silencer, he thought, perhaps he still had one thing left to silence: His doubts.

________

Ladybug had little doubt in her decision today, even if she found herself gritting her teeth and bearing with the stench of Paris’s sewers — again.

Really, she and Chat Noir had made somewhat of a habit of coming down into the watery maze beneath the city, and she was beginning to think that it was time to find an alternative place to run and hide.

As much as she cared for the silly kitty, sometimes the time they spent alone became a little overwhelming, what with his constant flirtation and declarations of love. And coming down to the sewers didn’t exactly make his attempts seem any more romantic.

… Wait, in that case, maybe being in the sewers wasn’t too bad of an idea.

In any case, she had tried time and again to tell Chat Noir that she was in love with someone else — someone with deft fingers, blue hair, and eyes that were bluer still — but the blonde still didn’t seem to be deterred.

Which was what gave Ladybug the idea to bestow a Miraculous upon Luka.

He was a natural match for combat after all, right?

Luka, who was so level-headed.

Luka, who always took the time to think before acting or speaking.

Luka, who genuinely put the needs of others before himself.

He had demonstrated as much on the day they met, after all. Who else would make themself late to school not only to help an old man out of the street, but to also make sure his little sister had her favorite hair clip on hand?

Luka was selfless, caring, observant, cute—

Yes, that settled it: Luka was the perfect candidate for a Miraculous.

Today, Chat Noir seemed to think they should give this particular one to Adrien Agreste, but Marinette wasn’t so sure. Would the celebrity model really be cut out for an akuma battle, let alone one that had brought them down into the sewers?

Probably not.

Closing her eyes and ignoring the acrid stench of garbage as she sucked in a determined breath, Ladybug called Luka out of the locker Chat Noir had left him in. Hesitantly, he approached the spot where Ladybug stood by a metal ladder that led to the surface.

“Luka Couffaine,” she began. Gently, she turned his hand over and pressed a box into his palm, much in the way he had pressed a clip into hers some months ago. “This is the Miraculous of the Snake, which grants the power of Second Chance. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you?”

Of course, she knew the answer even before Luka smiled and nodded.

His hands tightened around hers knowingly.

________

Of course, knowing and understanding were two very different things.

After Miracle Queen had come and unnerved all of the Miraculous wielders by revealing their identities, Ladybug, in particular, had seemed uncharacteristically dispirited. Even Chat Noir seemed to hold himself at arm’s length from the heroine, albeit Luka didn’t understand why.

Nor did he understand why, over the past several weeks, she had appeared at his window in frequent blurs of red and black, offering him time with Sass under the condition that he come out to patrol in Chat Noir’s place.

Of all the previously-exposed Miraculous holders, he was the only one she had recalled to the field, even though it was never for the express purpose of an akuma battle.

Now, racing along Paris’s rooftops, Viperion did his best not to pry, though he couldn’t help but feel concerned at the discordant melody that was all but radiating off the girl. Weeks had passed, but something about Ladybug was still off-beat.

Patrol that night was almost over and it was only getting more and more difficult not to ask questions, especially considering she—

“We’re here.”

Ladybug landed gracefully on the final rooftop of the evening, her expression indifferent as she hooked her yo-yo around her hip and looked out at the distant wash of lights across Paris. She released a silent sigh through her nose, the rise and fall of her shoulders otherwise betraying her neutral demeanor.

Viperion landed beside her, consciously restraining himself from coaxing a sad melody out of his lyre and asking, “Do you feel kind of like this?”

“Why don’t we stop to catch our breath?” he asked instead. “Before we go our separate ways, I mean.”

Ladybug’s gaze flicked up to him in question before softening a fraction.

“Sure,” she murmured, her softly-emerging smile a small victory in Viperion’s heart. “I brought a snack, anyway. Just in case we got hungry.”

As Viperion lowered himself to sit on the ledge of the roof, Ladybug padded to the opposite side, bending down to grab a pastry box before returning and perching herself next to him. As she opened the lid, Viperion didn’t try to suppress his own smile.

Pistachio green macarons sat in a neat row within the box, their fragile shells still perfectly in-tact.

“These look delicious,” he said, gently removing one with his right thumb and forefinger. His left hand skimmed distractedly over the hidden pocket of his Miraculous suit.

The two sat that way for several minutes, the silence of the night punctuated only by the occasional passing car or giggling civilian. Ladybug and Viperion, meanwhile, relished in the quiet anonymity provided by both the height and the shadows of the building they sat atop.

Eventually, Ladybug sighed once more — this time more audibly — and leaned to rest her head against Viperion’s shoulder.

“You’re unbelievably brave, you know.”

“What?” Ladybug lifted her head to look at him through her falling bangs.

“I said you’re incredibly brave,” he repeated, his eyes fixed forward. “And I just want you to know you don’t have to shoulder all of the burden on your own.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ladybug’s brows furrowed. “I mean, I asked you to come out and help patrol with me, didn’t I?”

Viperion just chuckled once more, as he often did while contemplating how best to string his words together like a discernible song of their own.

“Yes, and I’m grateful you did,” he conceded. “But you and I both know that’s not all. And maybe that’s why I don’t feel any doubt, anymore.”

“What … what did you doubt?”

Luka paused a moment, his hand once more pressing against his pocket. This time, he pulled the contents out and curled his fingers around it protectively.

“I guess… I doubted that you wanted me to be there for you,” he said. “But, lately, you’ve been leaning on me more, both in and out of the suit—”

Ladybug gasped.

“—And that makes me happy.”

Viperion turned, grabbing Ladybug’s wrist with a feather-light touch. Turning her palm up, he pressed a small clip into her hand before closing her fingers. Then he pulled her in for a reassuring hug, careful to hold her gently enough that she could pull away if she wanted to.

He heard her sniff before he felt her burrow into his neck. His skin was cooled by the unexpected dampness of her cheeks.

“Juleka gave me her lucky hair clip several weeks ago,” he explained. “She said she hoped it would help me to find the luck and courage I needed to tell the girl I love about my feelings, which… I guess I already did. So this time, I’ll just tell you that I know what you’re facing and, if you ever need someone to shoulder more of the burden for you, I’ll always be here. My life is already filled with music, but you add the sweetest harmony of all, Marinette.”

Ladybug hiccuped, wrapping her arms hastily around Viperion’s waist. One hand remained fisted around the clip while the other pressed between his shoulder blades, silently asking him to hold her tighter.

So he did.

Humming the heartsong he had written for Marinette weeks ago, Viperion pressed his cheek into her hair and rubbed circles into her back. His body shook slightly as the girl gasped and wept, but he didn’t dare let go. Not until she was ready.

Several minutes later, her body had finally relaxed into his, the sobs gone and her breath evening out. His humming trailed off as she slowly unwound her arms from around him.

“I’m sorry, Luka,” she whispered as she pulled back and wiped at her face. “It’s all just been so much.”

“I know. And I’ll be here for you every step of the way, in whatever way you’ll have me.”

Finally, the girl smiled — the first real, genuine smile he had seen from her in weeks.

Viperion’s heart soared with relief.

“You’re right you know,” she said, uncurling her fingers to once more reveal the clip. “You didn’t need this lucky clip to tell me how you feel. Though, to be honest, I feel like I’m the lucky one.”

Slowly setting the clip down beside them, Ladybug reached up, pressing one hand to Viperion’s cheek and the other to the back of his head.

His eyes fell closed as he bent his head low, his lips catching hers just as she pressed closer to meet him. This time, his hands floated to her waist, the moment weaving a delicate new melody around him.

Her lips were softer than he’d ever imagined... and tasted faintly of pistachios.