The day Luka would leave for his three year long trip with his mother finally arrived, and Marinette wasn't showing how upset she really was, but Luka, who has been able to hear her heart for many years now, knew how she really felt.

She and her parents had come to bid them a safe trip, and she had immediately gone up to the deck where he leaned on the rail, looking out to the waters.

"Luka."

He turned to her, smiling at her usual stoic expression, but he knew.

"Marinette," he inclined his head as a greeting, and she came up next to him, leaning on the railing as well. He looked at her while she gazed at what he had been only moments ago.

It was times like now, where he saw the beauty of Marinette. She was a couple years younger than him, but had always, always been so much more mature. He thought he had been more grown up at his age until he met her.

But, the thing about Marinette was that she didn't see her beauty, inside nor out. He knew that in all due time, with years to pass, she would be stunning, and Luka didn't want to lie, but he didn't want Marinette to be betrothed to another. 

Marinette understands him, and he understands her the most. 

It was a cruel reality when Adrien lost his memories, and he had seen how heartbroken she had become- but it was then that Luka realized that Marinette had grown feelings for Adrien but had not realized them herself. Most likely only seeing it as a sibling-like affection.

Seeing her so broken up had hurt him as well.

"I won't see you after today," Marinette's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and she bumped his shoulder with hers. "Don't become a asshole while you're out there, seeing the world."

His eyes flickered over to their parents who were too far to hear what she had just said, and refrained a sigh of relief. The first time he had hear Marinette swear had been a total shock, as she had suddenly flushed with anger at some random stranger who had been making awful comments to a woman.

Once out of secluded area, she had let the words tumble out of her mouth as if she were a sailor in a past life.

Though, now, it was a regular occurrence.

"That's right." He noted that she had her hair down today. "I like it when you have your hair down."

"Oh, thanks. My hair tie snapped on the way here, really," she grumbled, running her fingers through her midnight hair that stopped right below her shoulder blades. Then she looked at him, and his eyes met those piercing bluebell hues. "...Luka?"

He brought a hand up to thread his own fingers through her hair, "Yes?"

"You've been looking at me for fifteen minutes, are you okay?"

No, he wasn't okay. Because he was thirteen and Marinette was eleven, and feelings like this were impossible to have at an age so young. 

A small teasing smile played on his lips, "Just thinking that I'm going to miss you."

Marinette flushed, remembering her words from when he had told her the news. She weakly punched his arm with a huff, and shook her head.

"Stupid."

Maybe...

"Marinette?" He pushed off the rail, and faced her, and she did the same, though with a questioning gaze. "In three years time, when I return, I want to tell you something."

Her head tilted, and he watched and her bangs ruffled with the movement, "Why don't you just tell me now?"

He leaned down to her height, which was short compared to him, and rested his forehead on hers, a normal action between the two, but this one...

Was just so intense.

Marinette blinked, eyes wide.

"Because I want to be sure, and get to know the you three years from now, before I tell you."

Her breath fanned out, tickling, almost non-existent from how small it was and she whispered, "Okay."

Luka set off with his mother, waving at the Dupain-Cheng family, along with his little sister and father.

Three years time, he would be older, and hopefully more on her level. 

Maybe then, she might accept him.

-

"So, Marinette," glaring at the blonde who was disturbing her and Nathaniel's quiet drawing time. She had somehow figured out where she was, which was the art room, and decided to pay a friendly visit. "I haven't heard about you from Adrikins," she pressed, sounding smug, "did he finally choose me over you?"

"You just admitted that he has always chosen me over you," she responded nonchalantly, Chloe's face contorted into embarrassment. "I'm sure even you've figured something is wrong, he probably doesn't remember who you are, right? If they didn't tell you what happened, I'm sure they don't want anyone finding out. "

She paused, and looked over at Chloe, a glint in her eyes, seeing her flinch at her words.

That's right, Gabriel wouldn't want it getting out that he- the Great Gabriel Agreste™- had let his some get injured in his own home, while he was there, on his watch, and receive extensive damage to his head enough to cause memory loss. He's never kept his son hidden from the public eye, but to have him disappear completely...it was bound to rouse questions.

Leaning her cheek on her hand, she smirked.

"Do you want know what happened?"

Chloe sneered, chin up, said nothing, but waiting expectantly.

Surely, if she told Chloe, she would tell her parents, and while Mr. Bourgeois isn't a gossip, his wife sure as hell is. 

"Miss Bourgeois," Marinette tutted, "I need a verbal answer."

"Just tell me!"

"Adrien fell down the stairs at home," she turned back to her art, readying her paint brush, seemingly disinterested with the conversation, "hit his head, lost his memory. Gabriel doesn't let me see him, so he doesn't know who I am anymore."

Chloe frowned, looking down at her feet, "...I'm sorry."

Marinette froze, jerking in shock before pulling her brush away from the paper and looking at Chloe, bewildered. 

"I don't like him not remembering," she admitted, "he's learning me again, but," she bit her lip, "it hurts. I would...I would hate if I couldn't see him."

Marinette sighs, and Nathaniel looks up from his art, having been trying to not bud in to the conversation that he had business in, and gave her a worried look.

"It's not the best, no," she told Chloe, meeting her eyes, "I miss him." Looking down at her painting, all that was left to paint was the green eyes of the black cat with a golden bell sprawled across some books on a shelf. 

She whispered, "More than I'd like to admit."