A deep frown settles on Luka’s face at the certainty in Vanessa’s voice when she claims he’d never be in love with her. “How do you know that?” he asks before he can stop himself. It didn’t make sense to him how she could be so confident that he’d never love her when Luka himself didn’t even think that was true. For all he’d had other relationships over the past ten years, none of them had made him feel as close to moving on as being with Vanessa had. Though, he supposed he hadn’t done the best job of showing that. He had admitted after all that if Marinette decided out of the blue that she chose him over Adrien, he’d drop everything to be with her. Which…. was a fact that hadn’t changed - or at least, he didn’t think it had. In all honesty Luka wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not when it came to his love life. “I would never want to hurt you,” he promises - a distinct difference between actually swearing he wouldn’t have hurt her. Because he can’t say that. Can’t know for certain he wouldn’t choose Marinette over her if the decision ever had to be made. With a sigh he drops his head into his hands and nods it ever so slightly. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”
Vanessa raised a brow as she looked at him, though she wasn’t sure if it was more curiosity or confusion at his question. After all, it seemed like a strange question to ask, the answer seemed so obvious, and yet here he had her second guessing what she’d been so sure of. “Because you picked her.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, brow furrowed as the words left her lips. “You picked the idea of maybe being with her someday over any chance you and I had of being in a real relationship. You told me you’d drop everything for her and so I knew you’d never really be in love with me, because you wouldn’t be able to do that to someone you love.” The anger and hurt was bubbling up in her chest again, burning at her throat and she lifted the glass in front of her to her lips, trying to wash the ugliness down. She was proud of herself for being able to keep her expression and tone even, as if going over it all again, out loud, didn’t stir up all the bad feelings she’d been working hard to suppress. None of it was his fault and there wasn’t any part of her that blamed him. She blamed herself, so at his words she smiled, a genuine and soft smile. “I know, Luka. That’s why I didn’t let you.” Without thinking, she lifts her hand and runs her fingers through his hair, wanting to comfort him outweighing her own logic. The alcohol of course helped in that regard. “I think we’re gonna cut you off.”