The fields were quiet.
Luka sat on the porch of the barn house with the guitar resting against his knee, the wood warm beneath his fingertips. The chair creaked when he shifted, just like Adrien had said it would. The air smelled like dust and sun and something older than memory.
He played softly, letting the notes wander without direction. There was no audience here. No expectations. Just sound and sky.
He hadn't heard the footsteps.
Arms wrapped around him from behind.
Firm. Familiar.
For a split second, Luka froze—every instinct screaming, every nerve lighting up in disbelief.
Then a voice breathed against his ear.
"See? Texas really is calm."
The world tipped sideways.
Luka's breath left him in a sharp, broken sound. His hands trembled as they dropped from the strings. He didn't turn—not yet. He was afraid that if he did, the moment would vanish.
"You're…," Luka started, then stopped. His voice wouldn't cooperate. "They said you—"
"I know," Adrien said softly. "I needed them to."
Luka twisted in the chair, heart pounding violently. Adrien stood behind him, solid and real, eyes bright and alive in the late afternoon light. There were faint scars on his hands, a small cut near his hairline—but he was here.
Alive.
"You bastard," Luka whispered, and then he was standing, hands gripping Adrien's jacket like he might disappear again. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"
Adrien's expression softened, guilt and love tangled together. "Every idea."
He took a breath.
"I staged it," Adrien said. "The crash. The money. The accounts. I'd been planning an exit longer than anyone knew. Marinette helped—quietly. She rerouted things, covered trails. I needed someone who understood both worlds."
Luka stared at him, overwhelmed. "You let them think you were dead."
"I let the machine lose me," Adrien replied. "There's a difference."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim card and a folded document. "I'm free. Legally. Financially. I have enough for us—for the rest of our lives, if we're careful. No brands. No handlers."
Luka's chest ached. "And me?"
Adrien smiled, small and hopeful. "I came back for you. I never left you."
The silence stretched, fragile and full.
Luka cupped Adrien's face with both hands, thumbs brushing his cheeks like he needed the proof. "You don't get to scare me like that and just—"
Adrien kissed him.
It was immediate. Fierce. All the weeks of grief and longing collapsed into heat and breath and hands pulling close. Luka kissed him back without restraint, fingers tangling in Adrien's hair, grounding himself in the reality of him.
When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Adrien pressed his forehead to Luka's.
"No more hiding," he said. "No more running."
Luka laughed shakily, eyes bright. "You realize I would've followed you to hell, right?"
Adrien smiled. "I figured Texas was far enough."
They sat together on the porch as the sun dipped low, Adrien's arm around Luka's shoulders, Luka's guitar resting between them. For the first time, there were no cameras waiting, no expectations pressing in.
Just quiet.
Just choice.
Just them.