The Identity Problem •Luka x Reader x Adrien•

Agreement

"I also agree that if you bring a person into this world, you are responsible for them. Though I think we have very different experiences with that."

I try to hide my shock as I side-eye him. My throat feels unexpectedly scratchy as I respond.

"The foster system here is less than stellar, so she wasn't completely wrong in saying that. But August sure knows how to pick'em."

I lean against the bar to face him.

"We don't have to be friends and all, but I think you should consider making the effort to at least be civil with me. Seeing as we both have other people controlling a huge part of our lives, it doesn't seem like we will be rid of one another for long."

He turns to match my stance, taking my form in with slightly concealed curiosity. Seemingly shocked by my indifference. I can't help but continue to word vomit my feelings of frustration.

"Plus, I don't particularly dislike you in any way, so you're coming across as one of these spoiled rich kids to me and my friends, and it's not a good look on you-"

I glance away briefly.

"-reminds me of Chloe."

"Okay, now that's an insult that actually stings."

I laugh in my hand a bit at the look of shocked insult that crosses his face. Blonde brows furrowed in upset.

"So you know her, too."

He nods, then continues.

"You're a lot different than most of Adrien's friends."

"Blunt?"

"I was going to say ruder."

I hold a hand over my heart in mock offense, but can't help the smile that cracks through my features.

"You wound me. At least I don't have the personality of a cardboard cut-out."

"Ouch. At least I don't have the looks of one. So when do the real insults start?"

"I'd bring them out, but I don't have crayons handy to explain them to you."

"Oh, that's rich, don't you go to a public school? I'm sure your education is extraordinary."

"And you must be private, that explains your social skills."

"Am I interrupting something or...?"

We both turn our heads at the same time, comically fast to face the bartender who holds two glass pitchers of water in his hands. Without realizing it, we had grown closer to one another, the banter pulling us in. I snap out of it first and take a hesitant step back. Grabbing both pitchers swiftly.

"Thanks."

I make a move to walk but almost trip on my dress, unfortunately, both my hands are full, so I pause, unsure of what to do. I'm about to turn back to the blonde to force him to hold a pitcher when I feel the train of my dress lift lightly.

"Walk."

We were not even five yards away from the table when Poppy slid a seething glare my way. Mrs. Fathom conceals it better.

"What took you two so long?"

"They wanted to find us pitchers to use so we didn't have to keep coming up."

I sigh, setting the pitchers on the table, only then does Felix drop my dress for me. I shoot him a thankful look and slide into my seat as he moves to do the same. Apparently, this interaction loosened some of the tension from our caregivers because they both watched on in adoration. Mrs. Fathom even gave her brother-in-law a nudge to the shoulder at the two of us.

To which he promptly shot his son a look. Adrien stood up in response and moved over to my side of the table. Holding out his hand in front of me politely.

"May I have the honor of a dance?"