[who] Cynthia Bonaparte and Luca Koenig [what] Luca has some 'splainin' to do. [when] Sunday Afternoon [where] Cyn's apartment [status/rating] Closed | COMPLETE | PG13ish
For the first time in the entire universe, Luca Koenig was not afraid of Cynthia’s old, blue Volvo. It probably had a lot to do with the fact that it had spent the last two weeks in a series of top-notch shops having every little piece repaired and then brought to better than new condition. As he sat in the driver’s seat and pulled up to the curb in front of Cynthia’s building, he wondered to himself just how this was all going to play out. There were a lot of things he needed to get off of his chest today, and this was one of them.
He killed the engine and fished his phone out of his pocket. He typed out a text to Cynthia, and his thumb hovered over the send button. This needed to happen. He turned and looked at the items in the back seat; a black fox mask and a pair of glittery heels. He hoped they would be enough to convince her that he was the one that night at the ball. It seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had barely been two weeks.
Letting out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding, Luca hit send. The words come outside appeared on her screen, and he prayed that she actually complied before he lost his nerve.
---
How was she able to enjoy her time after the ball? That was easy, she was going to lose her beloved car she had paid for with her own hard work and be left in debt to Luca of all people. Why? Because he was giving her rides to and from work whenever possible. It was two weeks since she had met that dream man and now she couldn’t even think of him because she was too busy looking for a new car to enjoy the memories of that night, really. And she wanted to. She wished she had not taken charge of the college students who decided to attend. They had to leave at midnight and her night with him was cut short. She didn’t even get to learn his name before she had to go escort the drunk girl from the ballroom floor when she almost threw up in her cup. Now she was sitting in her living room with her computer open, looking over new and used cars in the local automobile car lot, grumbling.
At the sound John William’s Harry Potter theme, she knew she had a text message and debated ignoring it. The only person messaging her lately was her sister, who had found a certain glee in the fact that Cynthia’s car was stolen. Really, she wanted to slash her sister’s tires at time. or pay a frat boy to pee in her gas tank. Either way she finally rolled her eyes and picked it up. Great. Luca. He knew she did not need a ride, but with all the help he had given her, she knew it would be mean to simply ignore him. Grumbling some more, she got up and didn’t bother to put shoes on, sure that this was going to be a two second conversation before she was pissed and shut the door. When she opened it, however, she found him outside at the curb, sitting a blue volvo that was the same car as hers, only freshly painted, the rear bumper attached and no visible duct tape.
“Luca,” she called with the confusion really clear in her voice as she shut her door and stepped down her stairs. “The fuck is this, Is that… my car?”
--
When he saw her door open, he got out of the car, the keys in hand. This was going to be an interesting conversation. He rested his arms on the roof of the car and looked at her as she took the sight in. “What if I told you that it was, in fact, your car?” He asked her, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. The look on her face was priceless, and if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with everything else, he probably would’ve taken a picture.
He had only let the most trusted of mechanics work on it, and told them to spare no expense. He had wanted the car fixed, and he had wanted it fixed right, so that it would be able to last. Luca knew how attached Cyn was to this car, after all. It was like him and his Porsche, or even his bike. “Okay. So, don’t get pissed, but I was the one who stole the Cardis.” Okay. There was one tiny bit down. There was still so much to tell though.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I made a few improvements. Call it an early Christmas present.” For emphasis, he whipped a Santa Hat out of his back pocket and shoved it on his head. He silently wondered if she would get the point he was trying to make.
--
When he got out of the car, Cynthia barely found it hard to really focus on the fact that he was sitting in an 80s wagon and not his Porsche. She looked it over before her mouth dropped before she looked him over. Her car? That was not her car. Her car was beat to shit and so crappy she was surprised the thieves even kept it. She was sure that there was no possible way to fix that poor thing without spending a lot of money on it. money she did not have. Money that… Luca… had. Oh dammit. she was blinking at him, at a full loss for words as she looked him over. Cynthia was never at a loss for words when it came to Luca. She could always be the one with the fasted comment in return. Not now. She was just staring at him.
He was right, Her car was the first thing Cyn was able to get herself and she loved it. it was her baby. Having her baby taken from her was very sad. But when Luca admitted that it was him that had taken it, she was in shock. She should have been mad. She wanted to be mad, but it was simply not happening. He had fixed the car for her. Put a lot of work into it and she was unable to think. Her mouth was still open and attempting to find a way to reply before giving up and saying,”why?”
Then he put the Santa hat on. “No.” She replied. Cynthia’s hands flew over her mouth and her eyes got wide. “You?” She turned around and put her back against the handrails and kept repeating, “No,” over and over again. She got the point. It was very clear and she could not believe that she had missed it before. Her mind was racing as she finally ran down the stairs, lightly hitting him in the arm with a shocked smile on her face. “You were the one leaving me all those gifts?” She asked, hitting him in the arm again, trying not to hug him. She was touched, but not really good at showing how much she appreciated it.