Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Attention please.  Attention please…”

Marinette glanced up as the tannoy clanged to life.  She glanced at the board as the woman’s voice prattled off another flight that would be delayed due to the weather, and she sighed as she noted there was no change to her own flight.  For now, at least, it looked like she wasn’t going anywhere.

She turned back to her phone and sank lower in the uncomfortable plastic chair.  She hadn’t bothered checking the weather when she’d left that morning, but she’d been on autopilot since Fashion Week had ended twenty…eight hours ago?  She wasn’t entirely sure anymore.  She had wrapped up her last show and had immediately been whisked off to a party one of Audrey’s partners was throwing.  She hadn’t had time to catch any sleep before she’d had to head back to pack up her designs and make sure everything was properly labelled and sorted to the delivery service, and then she’d been dragged off for a series of interviews before she’d had to race back to her hotel to pack and make checkout.  The entire week had been a crazy, exhilarating blur, but the past day had been absolute hell.  Just then, all she really wanted was her own bed, back in Paris, instead of the (admittedly fairly comfortable) hotel bed in New York.

…she didn’t always like New York.  These days.  It was a huge city, easy to get lost in, but these days she felt like she spent the entire time there on edge.  Just waiting to accidentally run into…it hadn’t happened.  Yet.  But she had never been a big believer in her own luck, and she knew her days were numbered.

The tannoy crackled to life again, and she tuned out the newest announcement when all it did was announce that all flights would be grounded, at least for the night.  She groaned and tipped her head back.  She had already checked out of her hotel, and she doubted Audrey would be willing to put her up another night.  Some excuse about how it wasn’t in the trip’s budget (which Marinette knew, for a company like Style Queen, and especially for their top rising designer, was not actually an issue).

She looked at her phone again and began swiping through her apps.  She wondered if she’d be able to find a hotel on her own (preferably before every available room got scooped up by desperate travelers unwilling to spend the night on the airport floor), and was looking for her favorite travel app when another icon made her pause.

Tinder.

She had almost forgotten she still had it.

It had been a joke, at first.  Alya had downloaded it and created the account over a lunch date maybe a month or so back, insisting that she was too uptight and forget a relationship, girl – you just need to get laid!  She had matched with maybe two people and met with one before she had decided dating apps – or at least Tinder – was not for her.  She was too busy for a relationship, anyway, and casual hookups…well.  She had just never been the type for casual.  No matter how much Alya insisted it was exactly what she needed.

She sighed and pressed her thumb against the screen, intending to finally uninstall the damn thing, but her thumb slipped and opened the app instead.  She rolled her eyes and tapped the screen again, intending to close it out, but her thumb slipped again and…she jumped up, her eyes popping open as a painfully familiar face filled her screen.

What the fuck was Luke Stone doing on Tinder???

She sucked in a breath, her lips pursed so tightly it came out a whistle, and…it had to be a joke.  Someone trying to attract matches with a fake profile.  You could find pictures of Luka everywhere online, so it wouldn’t be hard to…she quickly smashed her thumb against the screen, before she could overthink it too much.  Before she could let herself Go There.  Luka’s grinning face immediately slid off screen to the left, and she breathed out a sigh of relief as a new face filled her screen.  One she didn’t know, thankfully.  She slumped back in her chair, her head tipping back as she took another calming breath, until…

“…ouch,” a low, achingly familiar voice chucked by her ear.  “Hard pass on that one, huh?”

She almost dropped the damn phone.

She turned her head slowly, her phone shaking in her hand, and blinked when she saw Luke Stone’s – Luka Couffaine’s – stupidly attractive face barely a breath away, a bittersweet smile on his stupidly gorgeous lips and a twinkle in those stupidly pretty eyes.  He was sitting one chair over on the row behind her, an elbow resting on the backs of the chairs and his body twisted to face her.  His foot was propped up on his knee, and as she continued to gawk at him it gave a nervous little bounce.  He glanced at her phone, and she swallowed thickly as she tried to kick her brain into gear.

She was not awake enough for this…

“…how the hell do you have a Tinder?” she blurted out, when she was pretty sure she had meant to say something cordial and normal like hi, how’ve you been?  His eyebrow lifted, and she shook her head.  “I mean…no way Penny approved that!”

“Dingo’s idea of a bad joke,” he said, glancing at her phone again before looking back at her with a stupidly charming smile.  “One Jules whole-heartedly supported for some demented reason.  I’m surprised it popped up at all – I don’t think I’ve opened the app since they first set up the account.”

“…I was trying to uninstall it,” she said.  His eyebrows lifted even higher, and she swallowed again.  “Hi, Luka.”

“Hi, Marinette,” he said, and the way his voice wrapped around her name like it was his favorite song was just…God, it was so unfair.  Did he realize how he sounded when he did that?  How much it made her want to…  “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

“…you knew I was in town?” she asked, and he gave her a Look that probably sounded a hell of a lot like duh.  Of course she was in town – it was Fashion Week.  But Luke Stone didn’t follow things like Fashion Week, did he?  It wasn’t very rock-n-roll, even if it was very her, and she supposed there had been a time where he had diligently followed everything her.  She swallowed and looked away, not wanting to poke at that thought too much.  “My flight’s delayed.”

“Mine, too,” he said.  She looked back at him, her eyebrows furrowing.

“Where are you going?” she asked.  He glanced at her phone again, and she realized that stupid app was still up.  There was a sporty looking fellow with brown hair and green eyes hugging a dog on the screen.

“Nowhere right now,” he said, his eyes flicking back up to her as he grinned.  “Delayed, remember?”

“…where were you going, then?” she asked.  She felt like she should roll her eyes.  Seven years ago, she might have.  It felt like a lifetime ago now.  Now, she couldn’t break his gaze, and her voice sounded nervous.

She didn’t remember being nervous around him.  Before.

“Home,” he said.  She frowned.

“I thought New York was home?” she asked.  “Now?”

“…there’s only ever been one home, Marinette,” he said, his expression softening.  He glanced back at her phone, and his lips quirked in a sad little smile.  “Does he pass inspection?”

“What?” she asked.  He nodded at her phone, and she frowned when she looked down at the green-eyed man.  She bit down on her lip and tapped her thumb against the side of her phone.  “…oh.  I didn’t mean to, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“Swipe left.  On you,” she said.  She looked back up at him to find his eyebrows had lifted again.  She tried very hard not to look away.  “I mean…I wasn’t going to swipe right, either.  Maybe.  I don’t…I don’t know.  I was surprised.  I didn’t even mean to open the app – I wanted to delete it – but then it was up and you were there and –”

“Hey,” he said, reaching over the benches to pluck her phone from her hands.  Her eyes widened, and she watched as he shut the app down without swiping either way.  He held the phone back out to her, a small smile on his face.  “I’m stuck here.  You’re stuck here.  How about we grab some coffee, catch up, and…if you don’t completely hate me by the time we board our flight, maybe we both delete the app?”

“I would swipe right for you,” she said, her eyes pricking as she stared at him.  His hand came up to cup her cheek, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into the touch.  He brushed his thumb against her skin, and she had to take a slow breath to steady herself.  His skin was so warm against her own…

“Have coffee with me,” he said.  “Tell me that when you mean it, ok?”

…that wasn’t fair.  She was pretty sure she meant it now.  She was pretty sure she would always mean it.

“Ok,” she said, and the smile he gave her before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead was just as unfair as it had always been.

Eighteen hours later, when they were walking hand in hand out of the Charles de Gaulle Airport in France, she stopped just outside the doors to tug him down for a heated kiss.  He was beaming at her when she finally let him go, so she pulled him down for another kiss to get him to stop.

“No pass,” she said when she finally let him go.  His smile softened, and she busied herself with adjusting the lapels of his jacket to hide her silly little smile.  “Swipe right.  Every time.”

It was a moot point by now, considering they had both deleted their profiles and uninstalled the app before leaving New York, but he appreciated the sentiment.  He pulled her back in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers.  “Me, too.”