"I call this one 'I nearly died'!" Marinette showed the sketch of the gray gown she had been working on to her two best friends. The past few weeks she had been having trouble sleeping. During the late hours of the night—or early hours of the morning, depending on how you looked at it—she stayed up and worked on her designs. The tiny bruise left from the gun pressed against her temple had faded away but vivid nightmares had taken its place. She'd almost rather the annoying reminder of the whole ordeal. The nightmares were haunting.

The dreams showed her visions of what may have transpired had Chat Noir never shown up, where the robber was more violent, where she hadn't used her phone to warn Chloé of the danger, where Alya walked back into the diner. She involuntarily shivered. She thought of the images of the failed prophecies playing out behind her eyelids. She could see her friend being shot. Marinette could hear Chat Noir's weak gasps as he bled out on the floor. She felt a scream climb her throat as she imagined the robber pulling the trigger with the gun still pressed to her head.

She wasn't sleeping much.

No amount of chamomile tea or exercise stopped the nightmares from plaguing her sleep. Instead, she designed, and cleaned, and did other things that kept her mind off her awful dreams. Marinette was sleep deprived and she hated it. Though, the designs that came to her in the odd hours were beautiful.

Chloé squealed, "I love it!" She snatched the sketchbook from the table to get a closer look at the details that decorated the shoulder of the dress. The flowery design began at the shoulder and travelled down the drawing's side. She was pretty pleased with how it came out.

"You didn't nearly die," Alya rolled her eyes but there was a certain edge to the hazel color. She had been worried about her friend. Alya wanted to push but didn't want to say anything that might upset Marinette. Alya had a front row seat to the mess that was Marinette.

"Fine. Just a technicality. How about..." she paused, hand against her cheek. She had to think. Her thoughts were more often a jumbled mess than tangle free. "Is 'I was held at gun point' cooler?" she mused aloud.

"Gun point kinda sounds kickass," Chloé glanced up to find Alya's disapproving gaze and instantly went back to flipping through Marinette's book. There was a few other designs that Chloé was supposed to look at. "I mean, it's not healthy to make jokes about what happened," she sent a subtle wink Marinette's way. She was at least able to find the humor in the situation.

"Not the point and you know it," Alya added. Despite the supposed seriousness of it all she got was a stern look. That barely worked on her anymore. After years of conditioning and being around Alya, she knew that look meant nothing but concern.

Marinette watched as Alya leaned forward to pick up her mug that sat on their coffee table. The tea was probably cold but Alya didn't seem to mind. She kept drinking the sweetened mixture.

"How about 'Chat Noir nearly beat the guy, who held me at gun point, into a coma'." Marinette walked to their comfy chair and collapsed into it. Alya hummed in approval which made her think that the other woman could find a bit of humor in the precarious situation that they found themselves in. The thought made her grin a bit to herself. There was something so human about the nature of dark humor. Things could be deflected and repressed.

"Hey," Chloé set the sketchbook down on her lap. "You know they don't tell you that if a person passes out when they've been hit it's likely something serious in the movies or shows. Maybe he didn't know. Chat beat that guy up because he held you hostage. Not his fault that the guy started hemorrhaging." It was stated so matter of factly that it was nearly funny to Marinette. She wasn't sure how Chloé knew about fighting but still found it interesting.

Alya scoffed, retrieving her car keys from the coffee table. "He has a staff. He could have easily knocked the gun out of the guy's hands and held him down until the cops got there." She began to gather her things from their kitchen table so she could be ready head to work. "Instead, he broke the guy's jaw and nearly beat him into a coma," Alya pointed out in the way that she always did when she wrote her arguments. Clear and to the point.

"I'm not having this debate again," Marinette sighed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "Was he right? I don't know. Did he save me? Yes. That's all that matters to me," she stared up at the ceiling, feeling two pairs of eyes carefully studying her as they always did since the incident. They were making sure she wasn't falling apart at the seams. Marinette had begun to loathe the pitying look. "Where the fuck is Luka?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation anywhere but her.

"Right the fuck here." His voice made all three girls jump.

"You scared the shit out of me," Alya swatted his arm angrily before glaring at him.

"Can't help that I'm so quiet," he smiled at them. "Sorry," Luka added sheepishly, casting an apologetic look Marinette's way. He had been careful around her lately. Handling her like she was some precious gem or a piece of glass. Everything always seemed overdone as to not startle her. While she appreciated it, she also found it oddly annoying. Why couldn't things go back to the way things were?

"Sneaky more like it," Chloé eyed him wearily. "I didn't even hear the door open." She closed Marinette's sketchbook and placed it down on the coffee table. She grabbed the blanket that was on the couch and curled up into it. Her indifference for Luka was known. "When did you even come in?" the blonde woman asked.

"I think it was around the time you were discussing the moral dilemma that surrounds Paris' favorite antihero. Decided to grab a water before I announced my arrival," he showed the bottle of water as if proving his point before holding his arm in mock hurt from where Alya had pummeled him.

"You sneak into their apartment and steal their water? How villainous of you, Luka," Chloé teased.

"You have no idea," Luka replied without missing a beat. The two momentarily glared at each other before deciding to back off. There was a sort of energy that came alive whenever they were together. It fluctuated between a mere simmer and an all out wildfire, a bitter chill to frostbite. Luka and Chloé were enemies just as much as they were friends.

Alya cleared her throat, directing the conversation back to the present matter. "You're late," she pointed out, swinging her bag on her shoulder so she could escape out the door quickly once she got an explanation. Alya did love to know even the smallest of things about the many people in her life.

He shrugged. "Couldn't help it. Boss wouldn't let me go. Some idiot screwed up and now he's being extremely cautious. I'm actually surprised I'm not later," he explained with a slight wave of his hand. "He's making me handle everything on top of all my other work." Luka rolled his eyes. He worked at a music store. He did everything from fixing instruments, tutoring customers, and filling orders for schools that requested sheet music. That meant that his boss was probably pushing him even harder than what he usual did. Marinette knew how hard he worked and worried that his boss was working him past his limit. She could see the dark circles under his eyes from staying late. Marinette began to worry if he was getting enough sleep, which made her nearly laugh at the irony of it. She who was not sleeping was worried he wasn't getting enough.

"That just shows he trusts you, not sure why though," Chloé stuck her tongue out at him and he mimicked the action back at her.

"It just shows that he has little trust and major control issues," Luka scoffed, shrugging off his jean jacket and placing it on the arm of the couch.

"Now kids, don't make me ground you. Mommy's gotta go to work," Alya teased. "Don't let Mari do anything crazy. If I get one more complaint about her vacuuming at two in the morning I might actually lose it." She gave the friend group a small wave before making her way to their front door.

"I don't need a babysitter!" Marinette called at Alya before the door closed. She could imagine Alya rolling her eyes at her. The designer to be sighed again, wanting to sink further into the chair and maybe disappear to another reality. Some part of her wanted to be anywhere but where she found herself. Marinette didn't understand why she felt like that. She was home and safe but this unrelenting itch made her want to crawl out of her own skin.

"Not a babysitter more like a bodyguard," Luka took a swig from the water bottle. His statement broke her train of thought. She glanced over at him and noticed that his cheeks dusted with a faint pink color as he uttered the words. Marinette thought he actually looked kind of cute. His baggy sweater and dark jeans made the blue of his hair look electric. Hauntingly like blue fire.

Chloé let out a small laugh. "Your manly ego can't take the fact that you're just an over glorified babysitter?" she teased. She stretched like a cat before settling back under the blue fuzzy blanket. Her bright blue eyes never leaving his figure. They almost seemed to match the blanket she was under.

"I'm here for Marinette to feel safe, why are you here?" Luka shot back. Their petty rivalry—if you could call it that—was getting on her nerves. Usually, she could tolerate it. That was just how Chloé and Luka communicated. Yet, their mock arguing was grating and Marinette was just so tired.

Chloé cleared her throat, shifting in her spot, "To look at her designs and she was supposed to help me pick out what project I'm doing next." Marinette knew that Chloé was in her apartment for the sole reason of staying with her. She felt guilty about not being in the diner when the criminal decided to rob it. Since she wasn't there for the initial trauma she wanted to be there for the aftermath. The midnight haired woman sighed as she heard Luka respond with something snarky.

She decided she had just about enough of it. "Jesus Christ," Marinette began, picking at a string from the hem on her pajama shirt. "Get a room and fuck already." Following her statement was an explosion of noise.

"Gross," Luka exclaimed, pushing away from the couch as if putting as much distance as he could between himself and Chloé would make her retract her comment. It wouldn't.

Chloé just made fake gagging noises from her spot on the couch.

"I'm just saying," Marinette began. "You usually only pull the pigtails of the girl's you like, Luka," she made it a point to stare at the blue haired male.

"Pigtails are your thing," Chloé stated which made Marinette want to roll her eyes. She refrained from doing so, she didn't want to aggravate the situation even further. That was not her point but it seemed to go over the blonde woman's head.

"I definitely do not like..." he motioned to Chloé as if the mere thought of her repulsed him. "I don't think I could ever like someone like her." There was a hint of disdain in his voice as Chloé shot him a look full of daggers.

"As if I would ever like someone like him," she turned her nose up as a child would which made Marinette giggle.

She stood up and grabbed her sketchbook from the coffee table, "Oh yeah, I forgot about Nathaniel!" she exclaimed. Luka instantly perked up at the mention of another male. "Silly me," she chastised herself but everyone in the room knew it was just an act. Chloé instantly flushed.

"Who's Nathaniel?" Luka asked, eyes bright with curiosity. He had moved back toward the couch at some point and was now resting on the arm alongside his jacket.

"None of your business," Chloé muttered. Marinette noticed that her friend's cheeks were still pink as she tried to avoid the subject. "Just drop it."

Luka shook his head, a smile gracing his lips. "No can do. I'm invested," he laughed which made Marinette laugh.

"Chloé's current conquest," Marinette supplied with a wink to Luka.

The blonde woman glared at her friend before turning to Luka. "He's someone I'm seeing. Unlike you, I can actually get a date," she teased. The fact that Chloé was even speaking to Luka about Nathaniel was a win in Marinette's book.

Luka suddenly stood and crashed into the spot directly next to the blonde woman. Chloé made a face but didn't say anything to him, didn't move to put distance between them. "Ouch," Luka leaned in close, holding at his chest as if her statement had broke his heart. "And all this time I thought we were flirting," he pouted.

Marinette watched as her friend pushed Luka away from her finally. "Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous," she turned away from him and met Marinette's blue eyes that twinkled with amusement. "Tell him I wasn't flirting with him."

Marinette sighed before looking at Luka who had slung his arm around the back of the couch and was trying to play with Chloé's hair. "She wasn't flirting with you, she actually hates you." As if to prove her point Chloé hit his fingers away from her.

"Tell her that this is just our foreplay," Luka winked at Chloé, nodding to Marinette. The midnight haired woman rolled her eyes, turning to see if she had left her phone on the kitchen table.

"Do you want me to actually barf?" Chloé elbowed Luka in the ribs to get away from the arm that was trying to trap her to his side. She grabbed the blanket before he could move to take it and moved to the chair that Marinette had occupied moments prior.

"I hate it when you go but I just love watching you leave," Luka exclaimed with a smug grin. The flash of his pearly white teeth made Chloé bristle.

"Fuck you," she spat, making a show to cover her entire body with the blanket so that all that showed was her face and neck.

"Knock it off," Marinette supplied without as much as looking up. She unlocked her phone and went to check the pages she had bookmarked. After the robbery she had followed a bunch of update accounts that tried to track Chat Noir. She liked to just check up on her hero. It gave her a little comfort knowing that he was out there. Marinette noticed in the more recent photos that his black eye had faded. The mask covered most of it but she remembered the way the blooming color seemed to seep out from under his mask and onto his cheeks in the days that followed the incident. She was ashamed to admit that the night right after she had been so anxious she had stayed up all night refreshing the pages that kept tabs on him just to see him, to know that he was okay. Marinette had begun to press her hand into her cheek and pretended that it was his own gloved one. She noticed how quiet it had become. The silence had its own presence that seemed to drag down the room with its weight. Marinette willed it away as the thoughts that the noise had shut out began to creep to her.

"So how long have you been seeing that guy?" Luka asked to break the silence. She was glad he did. Lately, she had begun to hate the quiet.

"It's not any of your business," Chloé glared at him. The piercing icy blue offsetting the lull and warmth of the surroundings.

"At least three months," Marinette decided to fill in the blanks. "He was her barista. They just recently crossed the line from admiring from afar to fucking."

Luka turned his head to glance at her. She knew he was trying to gage if she was lying. Luka was a fucking lie detector. He seemed to just be able to tell when someone was lying. There was no hiding from him. He always just seemed to know. "Why haven't you brought him around?" Luka pressed.

"You'd eat him alive," Chloé replied.

"Then I'd have you all to myself," he shot back with a sly grin. Chloé only rolled her eyes.

"It's not nice to tease," Marinette locked her phone again, satisfied at the fact the that Chat Noir was not hurt and hadn't been caught.

"Yeah!" Chloé exclaimed, playfully pouting.

"You know, I love you." Chloé just scoffed at his reply. Part of her wondered if Luka meant it. That all his teasing was just an act to get the blonde woman's attention. She looked away from them before the thought made her head hurt.

"I'm going to bed," she lied. Marinette would probably spend her night scrubbing the shower.

"Wait," Chloé called. "What project should I do?"

Marinette smiled. "Why don't we show Luka and let him decide?"

"That sounds like a great idea!" he exclaimed.

"That sounds like a terrible idea," Chloé rolled her eyes.

"I liked that pink dress that you made," Luka added nonchalantly, perking the interest of both women in the room.

"Which one?" Marinette asked, suddenly curious about how he knew and saw the pink dress. "The new one?"

"Yeah," he moved to get more comfortable on the couch, capturing and holding both women's attention.

"How?" Chloé didn't sound angry. She actually sounded confused and she stared at him expecting an answer.

"I follow you on Instagram," Luka grinned. "I like when you model your clothes. Especially the small pastel pink ones."

Chloé instantly flushed pink and Marinette couldn't help the snort that came from her. "You have a fan," she hummed as the thought of Luka casually scrolling through Chloé's feed made her laugh.

"I don't..." the blonde woman whispered but seemed to lose her thoughts as she stared at him.

Luka seemed to revel in her embarrassment. Marinette didn't have to be looking to know that his eyes had locked onto Chloé. "I wouldn't want to push... but I would love to see you draped in pale silk in something that just barely covers." His voice was low and the small sound of Chloé taking a shuddering breath reached her ears.

"I have to go," Chloé moved to get up and gather her things. She gave Marinette a quick kiss on her forehead and then she was gone. Luka watched her go and let out a small chuckle when the front door closed.

Marinette sighed. "You shouldn't do that to her." She looked to her friend. "Especially, if you don't mean it."

"Who said I didn't?" Luka looked at her and then cleared her throat. Marinette raised an eyebrow at the male who merely shrugged. "Are you going to bed or are you waiting for me to tuck you in?" he teased.

"I'm going," Marinette waved him off. "Do you need anything?" she asked as she moved toward her bedroom.

"Just the blanket," he toed off his shoes and nodded to the blanket Chloé had discarded. Marinette threw it at him. Luka has started crashing on their couch since the incident. It was supposed to help her feel more protected, less alone. Instead, it made her feel weak and small like the gun never left her temple.

"Goodnight," Marinette called from her doorway, casting him one last look.

He waved and gently smiled at her. Luka didn't need to tell her that he was there if she needed him, that if her nightmares woke her she could also wake him. Marinette just knew all these things. She never did take him up on their silent agreement. The younger woman would rather lay under her covers and shiver alone then plague her friends with her worries. "Goodnight, Marinette."

She shut the door and let the darkness envelope her.

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I am so sorry that this is so late. I've been so busy with school and other writing projects that I put this account on the back burner. Thank you for reading!