Chapter Text
Two hands come up to cover her eyes, and suddenly Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s view of the sketchbook and fabric scraps in front of her is obstructed. The combination of sensory deprivation and the feeling of warm human flesh on her face send a jolt of surprise through her body. She can feel this person’s body heat, the pads on their fingers, the small calluses on the tips. Knowingly, she smiles widely, not even trying to turn around. A warm breath of air tickles her ear as the person leans in closely.
“Surprise, ma choupette,” a deep, melodious voice hums.
“Luka,” she practically whines, still unable to stop smiling from his proximity. It sends a shiver down her spine and leaves goosebumps on her skin. “I know it’s you. Let me go~”
The pair of hands over her eyes suddenly drop, and the brightness of the light immediately assaults her vision, causing her to blink. In the same moment, they seem to cross in front of her, both arms pulling her tightly and wrapping her in an embrace. Reflexively, Marinette raises a hand to softly grasp the arm stretch across the front of her chest and shoulders, and blue-tipped black hair comes into her peripheral vision as Luka stretches his neck forward, leaning his chin down on one shoulder.
“I missed you,” he hums, and it’s as though he does it with his whole body.
There’s something electric about his being that leaves Marinette all stutters and nerves when he’s around. Still, she’s never felt so comfortable around anyone in her life. The day he waltzed into her field of vision, laid back and playing her heartsong before she even knew what it was, she knew she could love him someday. It didn’t take long for him to fearlessly confess his feelings for her, and they had been inseparable ever since.
She lets her head fall backward, her position the direct complement of the person wrapped around her.
“I missed you, too,” she says, and she means it with every cell of her anatomy.
The work in front of her is all but forgotten, along with all the other thoughts flowing through her head. Her mind is pleasantly blank, and there is nothing to distract her from the sensation of the butterfly kisses Luka begins to place all along the exposed skin of her shoulder and neck. She reaches up to run a hand through his hair, hoping he will take the hint and continue the attention, but he places a firm, final kiss at the juncture of her neck, then stands up straight.
Somewhere along the line, she closed her eyes, but now she opens them, confronted with an inverted view of her frustratingly attractive boyfriend as he smirks down as her. She narrows her eyes, but makes no move to stand up from her seat, and he leans over, pressing an upside-down kiss on her lips before making his way around the furniture. When she lifts her head, he is leaning in front of her, one hand resting on either side of her head against the chair’s back. Marinette opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, he lifts a hand delicately to her chin, effectively closing it.
“Close your eyes,” he says, and she doesn’t even hesitate before she complies.
Just like that, the warmth of his presence is suddenly missing, and she frowns when she realizes he has pulled away, but doesn’t try to look. There are soft scuffing and rustling sounds, and her brow furrows a little further from curiosity.
“Ok. Open them.”
This time, the brightness of the lights is less offensive, but her vision is temporarily fuzzy nonetheless. Once she is able to focus once again, she sees Luka on the floor in front of her, kneeling, with a suspicious-looking square box in his hands. The smile he gives her is dazzling, but she feels a stone of dread sink in her stomach. The blue of his eyes is beautiful up so close, especially with the excited way they sparkle. She lifts up her hand slowly, praying to any god that will listen that she is wrong about what is inside the box.
Cautiously, her fingers curl over the lid as he holds it in place, never taking his eyes from her face. She hopes he doesn’t seem the panic in her expression. The top of the box resists for a moment, then snaps back as it gives in to the force of her effort, revealing a pair of earrings.
For reasons she doesn’t understand, Marinette breathes a sigh of relief.
She chances a glance at Luka, who is still watching her with keen interest, not unlike an excitable puppy. Realizing he is waiting for her to react, she lets go of the lid and reaches for the small jewelry, pulling them out carefully and turning them over in her fingers.
They are small, round studs- not much bigger than the nail on her pinky finger. They appear black at first, but when rubbed, turn a deep red, darker than ruby, and reveal black dots in the mysterious stone.
“Do you like them?”
Luka’s question brings Marinette out of her thoughts, and she looks up to give him a reassuring smile. They really are lovely, and she is thankful for his thoughtfulness and generosity.
“They’re beautiful,” she responds, still smiling. “You remembered how much I like ladybugs.”
“Not just that.” Luka raises up from his haunches, taking a spot next to her as he watches her admire them in her hands. “They’re special. It’s said that they once belonged to a great king of Greece thousands of years ago. They were given to him by a high priestess, who swore they would reveal his fated queen and true love as soon as she put them on. Legend says after every girl in his kingdom tried them on and failed to activate them, he locked the earrings away, and spent the rest of his life ruling without a consort. He had no heirs, and history has forgotten his true name, but because of his bad luck, he was often referred as Chat Noir, the bearer of misfortune.”
Marinette feels a sadness in her heart. Even if it is only a tale, it is heartbreaking to think about. If this man really did go through an entire lifetime waiting for the one he would love, only to be disappointed, then she hopes there is an afterlife where they will finally find each other.
“Supposedly, there was a ring made as a counterpart to the earrings,” Luka explained, “but that was buried with him, and his resting place has never been found. The earrings were only found recently, buried in a tomb alongside the remains of a female only known as ‘Tikki,’ and a scroll telling the story and warning anyone who tries to steal the earrings of the king’s wrath. Supposedly, even in death, he is still waiting for her, and will destroy anyone who takes the gift meant for his soulmate.”
A shiver runs down Marinette’s spine, and she looks again at the precious jewelry in her hand before glancing up at the man beside her and giving him a smile.
“They’re amazing, Luka. I don’t know how to thank you.”
He beams back at her, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
“You already have.”
It’s a sweet moment that is interrupted when she feels a burning sensation in her palms. By reflex, she drops the earrings, eyes wide with confusion. Then, she shakes her head, ignoring the racing of her heart, and bends back over to pick up the jewelry from where they landed on the floor.
“Sorry!” she apologizes, embarrassed. “I’m so clumsy.”
The sound of her boyfriend’s laugh sends a blush to her cheeks. He is well acquainted with just how clumsy this kind girl can be. Finally she finds both earrings and has them safely in her grasp. As she begins to rise up, she notices that Luka is already beginning to stand.
“I’m supposed to go help my maman with something on the Liberty, so I’m going to have to get going. See you tonight?”
Marinette nods, then a thought occurs to her.
“I hope you didn’t spend too much on these,” she blurts, frowning. If they are as rare and special as he says, they could have cost a small fortune. Even though he makes more money than she cares to know from his music and songwriting, she can’t stand the idea of him spending much of it on her.
Luka only grins in response. Defeated, she rolls her eyes at his unapologetic demeanor, but can’t suppress the quirk of her lips all the same.
With an arm around her shoulders, he pulls her in, placing an affectionate kiss to her forehead. Marinette tilts her head back, a necessary move to be able to see his face when he stands this close. He was always taller than her as teenagers, but as they became adults, Marinette more or less stopped growing, whereas Luka seemed to skyrocket in height.
“That’s my girl,” he says, cocky grin directed down at her.
She huffs, but reaches up on her tiptoes, anyway, meeting him a quarter of the way for a kiss. Then his arm is gone, and hers are empty, and he is walking toward the front door of their apartment, but looking back.
“See you tonight, ma choupette,” he says, giving her a wave and a flirty wink before he disappears into the hall, the door latching behind him.
Marinette shakes her head, but smiles anyway. Curious about the treasure in her hand, she lifts them up and views them again, slowly making her way toward the vanity in the bedroom. She finds them hypnotic in the way they draw her attention so that she almost can’t look away. Out of muscle memory, she finds her way to the chair in front of her vanity mirror, taking a seat without taking her eyes off the studs. Finally, she shifts her gaze up to her reflection, instinctively removing the backs of the earrings before placing one in her ear and securing it. It feels warm, almost tingly, and she wonders if they are made of a material she might be allergic to. All the same, her curiosity is too much to handle, and she feels compelled to insert the other, pushing it through the hole in her lobe and sliding the back on securely.
As if in a trance, she stares at her reflection. Her earlobes begin to feel warm, almost itchy, and in a panic, both her hands fly up to grasp at them. But she can’t tear her eyes away from the image in the mirror, and suddenly it seems like a red, glowing light is growing on either side of her head. Her brain is telling her to rip the earrings out, gift or not, but it’s as though her muscles are frozen, paralyzed. The light appears to grow until it is swirling around her, and she feels as if she is caught in a current. Her surroundings begin to blur as though spinning, and as she becomes dizzy, she fancies they have begun to disappear completely. The last thing she knows before everything fades to black is the feel of the sun on her skin and the barren ground against her cheek.