The Identity Problem •Luka x Reader x Adrien•

Italian

"When did this become a thing?"

"Mr. Laurent has been encouraging it."

"Do you want to do it?"

I thought for a second, it was a good question. I finished a bite of Alfredo before responding.

"Mr. Laurent says it would be a great way to wrap up the play, so ya I do."

"As long as it doesn't make you uncomfortable, go for it."

"I don't want to hurt Marinette."

He strummed his guitar, something I noticed he often does absentmindedly.

"I can't say she's going to be ecstatic about it but Marinette is a nice girl who knows you would never want to hurt her. Maybe give her a heads up first."

I reached down to scratch Snickers on the head from his place on the floor next to the couch.

"I know you're right but I also know that my emotions are a language that no one can understand. So I feel like I can't justify the decision. I don't want to let Mr. Laurent down."

"You're not unreadable."

He looked at me softly from the other side of the house.

"Really? Because I don't even know what I want half the time."

"Most people don't."

He spoke as if I wasn't talking nonsense for the last few minutes straight. Luka was always like that, understanding me when I didn't myself. I chewed a bite of my pasta out of spite, stuffing it in my cheek to speak.

"Why are you so good at this?"

"Good at what?"

"Telling me exactly how I feel."

He chuckled, twisting one of the pegs at the head of his guitar experimentally.

"Because I pay attention."

"Oh, to lil old me?"

I reach over and nudge him playfully with my foot. He laughs and grins widely at me.

"Yes to lil old you."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, I'd say you're the least emotionally constipated member of our group."

"Yes, but your melody has to be my favorite one."

We had discussed this before, Luka seeing people as melodies. I found it poetic, and in this moment it felt as though the air was sucked from my lungs. Panic set in, and my default to dealing with that was to joke. I giggled.

"Ya right."

I stood and started to collect my now empty plate and silverware. Piling it up and walking over to the sink. Steps followed me as I went and as I started scrubbing the dishes Luka came up beside me with a towel to dry.

"What, you don't believe me?"

I passed him the first dish.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot of favorites."

"True but that doesn't mean yours isn't my favorite out of the group."

I hand him a fork, with a hum in contemplation.

"Well, I take that as the highest compliment from the musician himself."

I turn the faucet off and set my sponge next to the sink. Luka sets the now-dry dishes on the counter. His eyes travel down me, taking all of me in, and I can barely see the outline of his face from the backlight of the lamp in the living room.

His gaze steadies on my wrist, where the bracelet he got me for my birthday is. His hand is traveling up to meet mine before I can breathe, running a thumb gently across my wrist.

"You haven't taken it off?"

"Why would I?"

He beamed and let my hand go. As if that was all the reassurance he needed. The tension was palpable, and I couldn't take it any longer.

"What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

I took a step back to lean against the countertop. Wrapping my arms around the middle.

"I've had guy friends and my best friend is a guy. This isn't- we don't do what friends do?"

He paused and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a bad thing?"

I took a breath, taking him in as he stood across from me. His gray hoodie still had the sleeves rolled up from helping with the dishes, and his hair was slightly messed up from getting wet from the snow. All I could think about was how far in I am. With so much raw emotion showing, I felt exposed. I let the answer slip before thinking.

"No. I just don't think I can give you what you want- at least right now."

"Luckily, if you haven't noticed, I'm very patient."

"I don't want you to have to wait around for me to be your girlfriend. And what if that day doesn't come?!"

I was flustered now, running a hand through my hair in frustration.

"That's okay. I'm okay-"

"No, it's not Luka! How can you say that?"

I pushed forward off the counter to stand straight up. He stepped forward and suddenly I felt small again. I looked away.

We stood for a few seconds in silence. Wordlessly his hands reached out to me both coming up to rest on my forearms, reassuringly.

"Hey."

My eyes flickered up to his, the stare I was met with was intent.

"I will be here for you whether you want things between us to progress or not. I care about you, and if you were to be happier with someone else down the line that would be okay."

"Can I please kiss you?"