The Identity Problem •Luka x Reader x Adrien•

Italian

Adrien ran from the courtyard to catch up to the two of us. I felt a tug on the strap of my backpack.

"I'll take your bag, and go unlock my bike ok?"

"Thanks."

I turned to greet Adrien just as Luka walked down the steps. He rubbed the back of his neck through his scarf, his cheeks were slightly flushed from running. I smiled but gave him a beat to catch his breath.

"What's up?"

"My father wanted to invite you over for lunch tomorrow during our break, do you want to come?"

My brows furrowed slightly. To be fair I never met his father in person, but social cues were telling me he wasn't very warm and fuzzy. Or even a lunch date type of guy. This probably had something to do with him asking about Poppy.

"Are you sure he wants to meet me? No offense, he doesn't seem like a...social butterfly?"

Adrien chuckled at this. For a split second, I felt like time had stopped as the snow dusted his blonde locks and his green eyes locked with mine fondly. I'd convince myself later that it's a model effect.

"You're the first person that my father has actually taken interest in meeting so I'd love it if you went. But you don't have to if you don't feel comfortable..."

He trailed off, obviously slightly embarrassed. I reached out and grabbed his bicep lightly.

"I'll be there."

His gaze was steadfast on me, and his smile was blinding. The genuine happiness showed in every line on his face. His eyes suddenly traveled to something behind me. I turned to see Luka leaning against his motorcycle scrolling through his phone.

"You goin 'with Luka?"

I laughed a little awkwardly.

"Ya, we're probably just gonna order take-out and catch up. I've been busy with the play and we haven't been able to hang out."

He nodded in understanding, but I could see the disappointment on his face.

"I've been thinking about what Mr. Laurent said. Do you want to do the stage kiss at the end of the play?"

The question didn't completely take me off guard, after I had talked to the drama teacher about my situation he had taken it upon himself to become a matchmaker. Mentioning the success that a kiss between Wendy and Peter Pan would have with the audience was the first attempt. Nonetheless, I could feel my face grow warm against the frigid winter air, but I pushed past it.

"I'll think about it, give me till tomorrow."

He nodded vigorously, which broke away into a grin.

"Think about it, we can talk more tomorrow. See ya!"

"I'll see ya."

I turned and finally walked down the steps to the curb where Luka was leaning against his bike. When I approached he looked up from his phone, tucking it into his pocket. He wordlessly handed me his spare helmet, his own already on.

"Want to pick up Italian?"

"Do you think Marinette will be hurt if Adrien and I do the stage kiss?"

Luka's widened as he chewed his bite of pasta, some pesto chicken dish.

A moment ago we had made it back to the apartment, managing to balance takeout boxes on Luka's lap while he drove on his motorcycle. Our backpacks had taken up the compartment under the seat of the bike. Not our safest decision.