~perfect for pictures~ (luka couffaine x reader)

☆ chapter one ☆

(Y/N'S POV)

"What the fuck did you do!?"

"I didn't do shit, calm down." I assured my best friend as he squatted down next to me on the curb. I raised my forearm to his eye level. "See? Just a cat scratch. Castor just got a little excited when Alya came by the other day. Scratched me on the way out of my death grip." It was the truth, and Luka seemed to accept it. He huffed out a breath, attempting to blow his dyed blue hair out of his face. "Maybe it's time for a trim, Lu." He wrinkled his nose at the nickname. He used to insist he hated it, but I think it grew on him a bit.

"Perhaps you're right," he said with a sigh, "or maybe I should grow it out." He looked off into the distance, as if imagining himself with a man-bun.

"Would I get to braid it?" I teased. "Put it in pigtails?"

Luka turned to face me, his expression blank. "Yeah maybe not." He cracked a smile finally, ruffling his hair out of his face for a few seconds before it fell right back. "Fucks sake--" He muttered.

"Alright, are we doing this or not? I need this project in ASAP. If I turn in another one late, Mullins will have my head." I stood up from the curb and grabbed my camera which had been sitting beside me. I threw the lens cap in the bag.

"Yeah, yeah. What do I do?" Luka stared up at me nonchalantly, still sitting down on the curb. He fiddled with the hem of his Strokes T-shirt; a nervous habit I noticed over the years.

"You've done this way too many times to not have the hang of it, c'mon! Just be natural. Move around and shit." That wasn't incorrect. For two years, Luka had been the subject of most of my projects, assignments, and practice shoots. Some were turned in to my professor, but plenty were for fun.

"Hey, it's not my fault you love taking pictures of me so much." Luka shrugged, a smirk growing on his face.

"You're pretty, what can I say?" I stated bluntly. His smirk fell and his face wore a new expression-- one I couldn't decipher. The moment was fleeting, but my heart beat loudly with every second his eyes stayed trained on mine. His lips parted and he drew in a shaky breath before looking down at his roughed up converse with an almost entirely hidden smile now playing on his lips. For as long as I had known him, every pair of his shoes was littered with drawings and doodles. He usually gave me one shoe for a few days to fill up with whatever, before wearing the pair of them until they couldn't possibly work as shoes anymore.

I snapped a photo and his head whipped up to look at me.

"Not fair! I wasn't ready." Luka pointed a finger at me.

"Well, get ready faster!" I pulled the camera up to my eye again, threatening to take another candid photo. He finally got it together, and I began taking shots, saying things to make him laugh for some semi-candid pictures. Despite what one may think, Luka made an excellent subject to photograph.

(LUKA'S POV)

Photoshoots were never my thing if I'm being honest. But for Y/N, they could be. She was always so sure that I was perfect for pictures, and how could I argue with such a stubborn girl?

I met Y/N L/N in our junior year of high school. She transferred from the U.S. in the first quarter and I was her guide around the school on her first day.

~flashback~

"Luka, this is Y/N L/N, the new student I told you about. Why don't you show her around Francoise Dupont?" Miss Bustier ushered over a bored looking girl. But that wasn't what struck me about her. It was the way she was dressed. It wasn't anything too crazy— just a band tee and a long black skirt, but what really piqued my interest were her beat up thick platform boots. I still remember the first words I said to her.