Part 2 of Luka and Zoé's love story! On the request of SummerCheng37

Happy Reading!

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The Seine cradled Luka and Zoé's love in its waters. Weaving their tale into the fabric of Paris. Luka's promise lingered in the air, a fragile thread connecting two hearts across continents.

Zoé watched him go, her fingers tracing the memory of his touch. The seasons changed, and with each falling leaf, she wondered if Luka would return. The Eiffel Tower, steadfast and unwavering, witnessed her silent vigil.

Their love unfolded through ink strokes and postage stamps. Zoé's heart skipped when a familiar envelope arrived, its corners creased from countless readings. Luka's words were maps—they traced his journey, marked the places where he dreamed of her.

One day, a letter arrived with a pressed flower—a forget-me-not from a distant meadow. Zoé held it to her chest, tears blurring the ink. "I remember," she whispered. "I'll wait."

And so, the Seine flowed, carrying their love downstream. The moon watched, a silent witness to their unwavering devotion. Zoé knew that even if years passed, Luka would find his way back. For love, like the river, carved its own course—a winding path that defied time and distance.

And as Zoé stood by the Seine, her heart echoing Luka's promise, she whispered to the water, "I know you will find your way back to me, Luka. Until then, I'll wait—for as long as it takes."

~~~~~

Zoé's heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing by the Seine, his silhouette etched against the moonlit water. Luka's eyes held a thousand stories—of distant lands, the ache of separation, and the happiness of victory over Monarch.

He had returned just a day before during the fight with the Miraculized. So, they only stole brief glances of eachother.

But now here he was, standing by the Seine, waiting for her.

"Zoé," he said, his voice a fragile thread connecting their memories. "I've come back."

She stepped closer, her breath catching. "Is this really you?"

Luka's fingers brushed her cheek, tracing the lines of time. "Danger and secrets might have separated us, but my heart remained here, with you." he confessed. "It was the power of your love that kept me moving, Zoé."

Zoé's tears blurred the world for her. "Our love kept me moving too, Luka."

"Now, we write a new chapter," Luka whispered. "Together, I love you."

"I love you too, Luka."

And with that, he kissed her. 

~~~~~

A few months later Luka proposed to Zoé.

His proposal was as poetic as their love story. On a crisp autumn evening, he led Zoé to the heart of Paris—the Pont des Arts, adorned with love locks. The Seine flowed beneath them, its waters whispering secrets.

Luka knelt, a velvet box in his trembling hands. "Zoé," he said, his voice a symphony of vulnerability, "our love has weathered storms and crossed continents. And I want to spend every second of my life with you. Zoé Lee, will you marry me?"

Zoé's eyes shimmered with tears. "Yes," she breathed, quietly "A thousand times, yes."

And then, Luka slid a delicate classic diamond ring onto her finger—a circle unbroken, like their love and pulled her into a kiss. Their kiss tasted of dreams fulfilled—a vow etched into the Parisian night. 

"We'll write our own eternity now, my love." Luka whispered, after separating.

And Zoé, her heart a cathedral of joy, replied, "Always." 

~~~~~~~~

In the Groom's room , Jagged Stone clasped Luka's shoulder. "You are rocking that suit, son. I am so proud of you."

Luka smiled, "Thanks dad." He responded, a bit nervous.

"What's wrong, son? Nerves kicking in, huh?" Jagged asked noticing Luka's expression.

Luka nodded, his tuxedo feeling like armor. "Dad, what if I—"

Jagged Stone cut him off. "You're about to play the biggest gig of your life, son. Zoé's waiting. Go out there and rock that aisle."

Luka took a deep breath, heart pounding. "Thanks, Dad."

Jagged Stone grinned. "Remember, love is louder than any guitar, now let's go, son."

~~~~~

The bridal suite was a cocoon of lace and anticipation. Zoé stood before the mirror, her gown billowing like a cloud. Her heart fluttered like a thousand butterflies, and yet, a familiar ache tugged at her.

André Bourgeois, her stepfather, entered the room. His eyes, usually stern and calculating, softened as they rested on Zoé. He cleared his throat, adjusting his tie—an armor of formality that couldn't hide the vulnerability beneath.

"Zoé," André began, his voice gruff yet tender, "I've known you since you were a teenager. I've watched you grow, stumble, and find your wings."

She turned to face him, her eyes shimmering. "Dad," she whispered, "you've been there—through every script of my life."

He chuckled, a rare warmth in his expression. "I may not have been your birth father," he admitted, "but I tried my best to be your dad."

Zoé stepped closer, her hand reaching for his. "You've been more than a stepfather," she said. "You've been my anchor."

André's gaze held hers. "I've made mistakes," he confessed. "I've been blinded by the love I harboured for your mother... and for Chloé, but you—you've always seen beyond that."

Zoé's fingers traced the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. "Dad," she said, "you're walking me down the aisle. You're giving me away."

He swallowed, his pride warring with vulnerability. "I may not have biological ties," he murmured, "but I've loved you as fiercely as any father could."

She hugged him, her tears dampening his suit. "You're my family," she whispered.

André held her, his embrace a silent promise. "Zoé," he said, "may your love story be grander than any castle, and deeper than any ocean."

~~~~~

The sun bathed the garden in golden hues, and petals danced on the breeze. Luka stood beneath an arch of intertwined vines, his eyes scanning the decorated garden.

The guests—friends, family, and kwamis (hidden in plain sight)—gathered, their whispers like leaves rustling in anticipation. Adrien, stood by Luka's side, as his best man. Just as his wife, Marinette walked before Zoé as her maid of honor, holding a bouquet of forget-me-nots. Marinette smiled at Luka, her excitement evident.

Juleka winked at Luka, from her seat beside Rose. Her eyes saying more than words ever could. "You've got this," she mouthed.

The music began—a soft waltz that echoed their journey. Zoé stepped forward with André by her side. His eyes held pride and sorrow, knowing he was giving away his daughter to a love that transcended time.

Marinette, now a renowned fashion designer, had crafted Zoé's gown—a masterpiece of lace and moonlight. Luka wore a stunning suit, as he waited for the muse of his music.

Luka's fingers trembled as he took Zoé's hand. "You're my muse," he whispered. "Always."

Zoé's smile was radiant. "And you're my melody," she replied.

The officiant, cleared his throat. "We gather here to celebrate love—the kind that defies time and spans dimensions."

Luka's voice was steady. "Zoé, from that spilled latte to this moment, you've been my compass."

Zoé's eyes shimmered. "Luka, you're my North Star."

They exchanged vows—simple promises that held galaxies within. Zoé's voice wove dreams, and Luka's guitar hummed in harmony. The kwamis watched, their tiny forms glowing with joy.

"Do you, Luka Couffaine," The Priest began, "take Zoé Lee to be your partner in for this lifetime, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse till death do you part?"

"I do," Luka said, his gaze unwavering.

"And do you, Zoé Lee," The Priest continued, "take Luka Couffaine to be your partner in for this lifetime, to have and to hold in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse till death do you part?"

Zoé's voice trembled. "I do."

"Those who have an objection to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace."

No one said a word.

"Alright then," The Priest said, "You may now exchange the rin

The rings—simple silver bands—were exchanged. "By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife." The Priest declared, "You may now kiss the Bride." 

Luka's heart raced. Zoé's eyes sparkled. They leaned in, their lips meeting—a kiss that tasted of forever. The room blurred, leaving only the warmth of their embrace. The violinist played a soft refrain, and the guests applauded—a standing ovation for love's crescendo.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a rosy glow, Luka whispered, "I'll write songs for you, Zoé. Songs that echo through time."

"And I'll cherish them," Zoé replied leaning her head against Luka's, "forever."

And so, beneath the arch of intertwined vines, they danced—their steps a waltz of forever. The garden whispered its blessings, and the kwamis hummed in delight. Luka and Zoé—two souls, one melody—stepped into their future, hand in hand. And as the stars blinked into existence, they knew that love was their greatest adventure.

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A/N: How was it?

If you still want me to continue just let me know!

P.S. How many kids do you want them to have?