Title: Delicate

Timeframe: Season three or later

Pairing: Luka/Marinette

Rating: K+

Warnings: Mild cursing and very mild spoilers for Silencers

Special thanks: My lovely Kate beta reading for me!

Author's Note: I did take the lyrics from Delicate by Taylor Swift obviously. My phone died so I had to listen to the radio on the way to work, and this song seemed perfect for them. It's been a while since I've done a songfic (like five years), so hopefully it's okay.

She isn't sure exactly how it happened, but over the past several months, Marinette has gotten comfortable enough around Luka that his room feels as much like home to her as her own. They aren't exactly dating, but they are definitely more than friends. He's told her several times that he doesn't want to rush her on anything. He does't want to interfere with her feelings for Adrien or chances with him, and he doesn't want to be second choice. They can just keep doing their own, untitled thing until she can work through her feelings and figure out what she really wants. He doesn't mind waiting for her. There have been akumatized declarations of love, a couple of quasi dates here and there, and the occasional kiss on the cheek or forehead. However, more often than not, they are usually in some state of entanglement aboard the boat, each working on their own creations or homework. She finds comfort in his touch, even if it's just their legs brushing against each other, or one of them leaning against the other while they work.

Tonight, he is leaning on a pillow against his wall, writing down what she assumes are lyrics, if his occasional humming is anything to go by. His guitar is next to them on the bed, but he hasn't bothered to pick it up in a while. She's laying on her stomach horizontally at the end of the bed, propped up on her elbows, with her legs looped through his. She's trying to come up with a sundress design for an application for a month long internship with a number of local designers and artist, but she's stuck. Everything seems familiar, already done, unoriginal. She lets out a huff and flops on her back, holding her sketch book out to him. "Switch," she grumbles.

It's something he started early on in their friendship. He had been struggling with the musical composition for a Kitty Section song, and she had been working on an apron sketch just for fun. He told her he was stuck, and asked if she would mind trading notebooks with him so he could clear his head and maybe get some inspiration from her designs. She had been hesitant, but agreed, knowing that any comments he shared would be genuine. They had been doing it since, whenever either of them hit a creative block.

"Now?" he asks, hesitantly. His tone is a little shaky, something she has never heard from him. It startles her and makes her sit up and observe him. She draws her knees up and into her, resting her arms on them. "We don't have to switch, if you don't want to."

She notices the beginnings of a blush spreading over his cheeks. "No, it's fine. Just- You can let me know if it's not cool." He closes his eyes, and takes a deeper than average breath before handing his own book out to her. She tilts her head inquisitively at him as she takes it. The behavior is odd for him. Outside of the Silencer incident, she's never known him to be anything other than calm, cool, and collected. He's currently acting more like her.

Once she reads the lyrics written out in his surprisingly neat handwriting on the page in front of her, she realizes why: Sometimes I wonder when you sleep / Are you ever dreaming of me? / Sometimes when I look into your eyes / I pretend you're mine, all the damn time. / 'Cause I like you. / Yeah, I want you. / Is it chill that you're in my head? / Is it too soon to do this yet? / 'Cause I know that it's delicate. / Stay here, baby, I don't want to share. There are other lyrics here and there written around the edges, but they are are scratched out: Oh damn, never seen that color blue. / We can't make any promises, can we babe? It's her name delicately scrawled across the top of the page though, that makes her whisper a soft, "Oh."

He's looking at her as if he's contemplating on if he should go into Fight or Flight, so she scoots closer to him, and loops her fingers through his. "Luka," she smiles, feeling a slight prickle of tears forming in the corner of her eye. He looks down at their hands and squeezes her a little tighter. "Hey, look at me." She wants to be able to read his facial expressions, which are always more telling than his words. He does so and she presses herself a little closer into his side. She's close enough now that he could kiss her easily if he chose to, which was exactly her intention..and hope. "You know I appreciate you giving me time to get over Ad- well, other people." Something about the moment makes her want to keep the boy that had monopolized her heart and caused her so much hurt for so long as far away from the conversation as possible, but she knew it was necessary. She knew Luka wouldn't accept any confessions or declarations unless he knew she was know longer pining after another. "You don't have to share anymore," she grins referencing his lyrics. "You have completely taken over every dream, day dream, and late night girl talk with Alya. Our afternoons together have become my favorite part of my day. I don't feel like I have to hide things from you, or go into a stuttering panic when I talk to you. You feel safe and comfortable, and at ease, and just… you feel right. I like you, Luka. A lot. I like how you are so kind to everyone around you, how you can so easily read people, how you think that you're better with music that words, but when you do really use your words, they are genuine and meaningful. I like that-"

Her words are cut off by arm snaking around her waist, pulling her onto his lap, and his other hand cupping her check, thumbing the corner of her mouth for the slightest moment, before capturing her lips with his own. She swallows a tiny squeak of surprise, as she returns the kiss with just as much enthusiasm as him. Her hands wind up in tangled in his hair at the base of his neck, which gets a soft moan from him. He tightens his arm around her and lets his tongue ever so quickly flick along her bottom lip. She gasps, and he pulls back. "I'm sorry I- "

She shakes her head at him. "Don't ever apologize for kissing me," she tells him, before leaning forward and kissing him again.

I might revisit this. I'm not thrilled with the ending, but it's been rewritten so many times, and I have to get to work. If I don't finish it now, it will just sit in the WIP folder forever.

- Maman Abeille