𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰. | 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧.

Chapter 10 | Meet The Family

This chapter is dedicated to Iliketacos18 for adding the story to his/her reading list. This gave me confidence, so thank you for that.

Adrien's P.O.V

"Luka?" I say, whilst we stroll around Paris.

There's a few people taking photos of us as we're holding hands. Our coming out is still all the buzz in Paris.

"Yeah?" he says blissfully.

It's still quite early in the morning. There's frost on the tips of the grass, and the greenery is wet and dewey. It's beautiful in its own kind of way.

"My father wants to meet you," I say casually.

Luka stops walking and starts choking on his own spit. I could help him, but nah [insert Klaxon and savage shades here].

He keeps going on for a few minutes, whilst I manage to keep my poker face on. It's a look that I've perfected.

But then we start getting stares from people because he's still choking. I think of the news headline: 'Agreste's boyfriend tragically dies after choking to death on his own spit'.

This makes me lose everything I've been trying to do. I start snorting uncontrollably whilst Luka is still choking.

It takes him another good minute to stop. By then, I'm in hysterics.

He fixes me with the dryest look ever. Whenever he does, I instantly sober down because no one wants the Couffaine dry look.

Once, he did that look whilst I was laughing at him, and, like an idiot, I didn't stop. He actually left his house and didn't talk to me for a week until I made it up to him by getting him flowers and chocolate.

I've learnt my lesson since then. He starts walking again.

"He wants to meet me?" he asks disbelievingly.

"No, he wants to have tea with the king of Mars," I deadpan.

"Oh phew," he sighs in relief.

I face-palm.

"Luka, I love you and all, but babe, sometimes you're so damn dense."

"Says you! The whole Fandom can agree that you're denser than denseness itself," he says.

"The Fandom?" I ask, confused.

"Another time, bro," he says, snickering. Whatever. Fandom. Weird child.

"Anyway, my father wants to meet you this Saturday," I tell him.

"Saturday? That's so soon, I can't even—"

"It's Sunday today, Luka. You have almost a week."

"But—"

"I promise you, it'll go well," I reassure him.

Luka looks thoughtful for a minute.

"Can I cook?" he asks excitedly. It's honestly so cute.

"What?" I'm confused.

"When I meet your father. Can I cook?"

I'm still confused.

"We're doing this over dinner, right?" he asks.

I nod my head yes.

"Can I cook that dinner?"

I finally understand what he's trying to say. He wants to cook for my father.

"Umm, I mean you can..."

"Sweet!" he replies and starts literally skipping.

I watch him skip off. What a funny little boy.

***
A week later

I hear Luka knocking at the door and stand up to answer it.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. He shakes my father's hand.

My father motions for him to sit, but Luka shakes his head.

"I'm sure Adrien forgot to tell you, the lazy ass he is, but I'm cooking for us tonight sir," Luka says cheekily.

Smooth. He just called me a lazy ass in front of my father. Nice that he's decided to show me up. I give him a look that says exactly that.

"Oh. Well, what will you be making for us?" my father asks.

"That," Luka says, "is for me to know and you to find out. However, I'm gonna need Adrien's assistance. Adrien, if you please."

Luka ushers me towards the kitchen. He's been at my house so many times that he knows the layout of it blindfolded. Trust me, we've tried it.

When we get into the kitchen, Luka is determined.

He rattles off different instructions to me whilst heating the pot and putting the tiniest bit of oil in it.

"Throw me an onion," he says.

I do just that and he catches it so swiftly without even turning to look at it.

He then skins it and starts chopping it so fast, the knife blurs. So fast, he cuts his finger.

I rush over to him immediately. His brushes me off, putting his finger in his mouth for a meer second before he resumes cutting just as fast as before.

He dices the onions so aggressively, I know something's wrong. I make a mental note to ask him later. He puts the onions aside and tells me to put the chicken drumsticks in the pot.

I do that and then I'm un-needed.

He grabs tomatoes and cuts them quite small, just as fast as he cut the onions and just as aggressively.

He then puts the onions and tomatoes on top of the chicken.

He tells me to bring him the ginger and garlic as he stirs the chicken.

I rush to do it, glad to have something to do other than watching my amazing boyfriend take charge of the kitchen.

He grates the ginger into the chicken before peeling the garlic and doing the same. All this is done with lightning speed.

He stirs it around again. Then he starts pacing around the kitchen.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I need Maggi," he laments.

"Ma-what?"

"Maggi. It's a West-African flavoring that you put into almost every good food," he explains. Then he groans.

I sigh. Why is he getting so agitated over a flavoring?

"This isn't just any flavouring," he says like he's reading my mind.

(Where my Nigerians and Ghanaians at???)

Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a yellow cube. He unwraps it to reveal a brown cube which he crushes into the chicken.

"Always carry spare Maggi with you," he says and winks.

A/N: so you know how I said Hollow might be ending soon? Yeah, fuck that.

I planned for it to end soon but then I thought of so many different plot holes I needed to fill, so there's still a good 5 chapters left in Hollow.

I bet you sighed in relief at that.

Hah.

Also, the way Luka cooks the chicken in this chapter is based on the way my own mother cooks chicken, and her chicken is to die for.

I'd kill Marinette for it.