Fan Fic based on the series Half Bad

Part One. Gabriel POV

Nathan and I put a drunk Nesbitt to bed after I convinced him to. He said Nesbitt would be fine on the kitchen floor, but since it's our last night together I thought we should care for him. We made ourselves pallets on the ground by the bed. Our pallets are close, close enough that I can hear Nathan's breathing. I let his calming breaths lul me to sleep.
I awaken to Nathan getting up, and under his breath, "Bastard."
I don't open my eyes but I hear him walk over to Nesbitt, who is now snoring. He curses again, and Nesbitt stops snoring. I hear his footsteps walk back over toward the pallets, but Nesbitt's snoring starts up again. He sighs, I open my eyes at this point, he pours some of the large bowl of Nightsmoke into a smaller bowl and leaves the room. I attempt to go back to sleep, but Nesbitts snoring isn't as comforting as Nathan's breathing. I lay here a little while longer my mind continuously wandering back to Nathan. I decide to go look for him. I pour my own little bowl of Nightsmoke and exit the room leaving Nesbitt snoring alone.
I walk along Mercury's hallway, and somehow I know where to go. Then I spot the faint glow of Nightsmoke come from the room I knew he was in all along. The room I've avoided since we got here. The room I've avoided since it happened. I tell myself it's just a bathroom, but it doesn't feel like just a regular bathroom. It's the bathroom I came to comfort him in, let him know he wasn't a monster. The bathroom he kissed me in. He kissed me. But then he shoved me away from him, looked at me like I was crazy, then left me. For her. Annalise. The girl who never understood him, could never. She has and will always be terrified of his fathers side. His Black side. I always knew she would hurt him, just like I always knew I would be here to pick up his pieces. And here I am, still following him to the end of the Earth. Sometimes I wonder why I don't just leave. Get away. Live somewhere peaceful. But it wouldn't be right living without him.
Shaking my head as if it will clear away my uneasy thoughts I go to the doorway of the bathroom, Nathan is staring at himself in the mirror. Clearly deep in thought, and I watch him for a couple minutes. Admiring him. He's beautiful, despite all he has going against him to be so.
His back has massive, mangled scars stretching from his shoulder blades down to the bottom of his back, B on the left and W on the right. His back is toned and muscular, his arms are ripped. I look at him through the mirror. His v-line is bold, popping out from his jeans. His abs aren't defined, but there nonetheless. He has a straight, neat scar above his v-line that Celia left trying to get the magic hunter bullet out of him; the first attempt. My eyes wander to the second attempt; above his belly button, on his abs. Then the final, successful attempt; right below his heart. Near Celia's second attempt is the scar Marcus left getting a hunter bullet out of Nathan; it's not as neat as Celia's but it doesn't look mangled like the scars on his back. It's a little higher than Celia's second attempt and it's on the other side of his stomach. He has scars along both his arms; stab wounds maybe, or thorns as he runs through the woods. Though I know the answer is the first option. His right hand looks mangled, a messy acid burn. His middle finger has three small, bold black tattoos on it; one on his fingernail, above his second knuckle, and above his first knuckle. His left hand has a large, bold tattoo on it. All the tattoos say the same thing, B 0.5, a label. I let my eyes wander up to his face, his hair is raven black and long, dropping down in front of his eyes. His eyes are black. Very black. When you stare into them you feel like your falling, and it's never ending.
"Hi." I say still staring at his eyes, forcing myself to stop thinking about him the way I have been.
He meets my eyes through the mirror, "Nesbitt wake you as well?"
The tone of his voice is flat, it doesn't sound like a question, so I don't answer. He's still clearly deep in thought, staring into my eyes. I lean against the doorway, not daring going any farther because of the last time. "You okay?"
His eyes flick back to his own reflection as he replies, "Yeah, great."
I don't reply, I almost want to walk into the bathroom to be closer to him but I can't. Just standing here brings up lots of unwanted memories and feelings.
He looks back at my reflection, "How old are you, Gabriel?"
I'm kind of shocked by the question, "Umm...nineteen."
He turns to face me, looking me up and down then studying my face, "You look older. Twenty or twenty-one maybe."
I shake my head, "Turned nineteen a couple of months ago. You missed the big party." I'm joking, and I know he knows I'm joking, but he looks almost hurt. Then he turns back to study his reflection in the mirror, back to his normal rock hard face. I feel like I may have imagined his expression flashing with hurt.
"Wish I'd known. I'd have done something. For your birthday, I mean."
I stand straight, shuffle my feet, and lean back against the doorway, "I doubt it." I study his face, he's still looking at himself though. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I really don't care about my birthday."
He looks irritated, his eyes flashing back and forth but never leaving his reflection. "I can still give you something."
"Yeah?" My skepticism showing through my voice.
He stutters out, "A knife or.... I don't know... a book or.... Or something."
I smile at his reflection, which is still not looking at me, "That would be nice." Though I can't imagine him gifting me something, I don't really see him as the 'gifting' type. Or the type that can really even talk to you without swearing or threatening you. So I add, "Nice isn't normally one of your strong points."
"No..." his eyes flick to mine finally, "Sorry."
"And did you say sorry then?" I shake my head, taken aback. "That's the second time you've said that to me."
He stares at me through the mirror, his eyes study up and down my body, I almost feel insecure. He stares at me so intensely it feels like he's reaching out and touching me. His eyes meet mine again, he bites his lip. His lip slides out of his teeth, he licks them, then his attention turns to his own reflection. I'm breathing heavy, he seems.. I don't know.. off maybe. Nervous almost. His eyes close for a second...two..three.. he turns around and takes a step toward me. He looks uneasy but with each step he seems more and more confident.
He stands directly in front of me. I don't know what to do, to think even. His hand reaches up to the scar he left on my eyebrow. His fingertips caress the scar surprisingly gently. I feel my breath hitch, and I can't breathe. I've never known him to be gentle, the opposite really. I've got the scars to prove it. "I've always meant to say sorry about that. Your eye, I mean."
I don't move, I'm not even breathing. I must be dreaming, I've never seen this side of Nathan. Never knew there was this side of Nathan I suppose.
His finger, still gentle, strokes the scar, "I could have blinded you."
His hand, I'm in shock about how gentle he is touching me, moves from my eyebrow to my cheek, down to my jaw, my neck, then onto the nape of my neck his fingers intertwining in my hair. His other hand presses firmly against my neck as he moves his head down and his lips are so close to mine I can feel his breath. I let my eyes close, this doesn't feel real. I keep thinking about him kissing me, here in this bathroom. Then leaving me. Leaving me for her. She shot his father then left him to die. I've stood by his side through blood & gore, stayed with him while he healed, told him he wasn't a monster after he had eaten people.
He whispers, but like it's just sliding off his breath, "Sorry." His lips brushing against mine, his breath warm against my lips. I finally let myself breathe, our breaths intertwining, our lips slightly open.
"Sorry about the scar." His lips still brushing against mine. I can't open my eyes, it's all I can do to keep my breathing even, steady. He kisses me, gentle. Not like the first time. It was rough, he smashed into me. This time he pressed his lips against mine, like if he wasn't careful I'd fall like a house of cards. I don't kiss him back though, all I can focus on is keeping my breathing steady. I'm nervous. Last time we were here, he kissed me. Like now. And then I almost lost him. I can't have that. So I don't kiss him back, but I don't move away either.
His lips brush against mine again as he says, "Sorry I beat you up."
He kisses me, again, so very gently. I can't believe this is Nathan Edge. I still just focus on keeping my breathing steady, my eyes still closed, still not kissing him back.
"Sorry..sorry.. sorry I hurt you." His lips brushing against mine softly, warm breath against my lips.
I've still not kissed him, moved into him, not moved a muscle other than to breathe. Just focusing on keeping it steady.
"Gabriel," my name coming out of his mouth, gentle and loving, sends shivers down my spine, "I'm sorry. This is me being as nice as I can."
Shivers down my spine, my eyes closed, my breathing is less steady. "I'll wait here forever, if that's what you want. I'll say sorry again and again."
His lips are still brushing against mine, his hand on my neck and intertwined in my hair, his breath warm on my lips, his voice desperate, almost pleading.
I'm unsure, but I slip my hand, tentatively, around his waist. I feel him press into my hand, and I suppose I take it as validation to everything he's been saying, doing. And my next hand, more confident, grips his other hip and pulls him toward me. I press our bodies together, I feel him against me. Warm.
I make sure my lips brush against his slowly as I say, "You should be nice more often." Then I say, in French so he won't understand. "This is terrifying, but this is all I've wanted. You are all I've ever wanted." And I kiss him, hard. His hand moves farther up into my hair, grabbing a fistful. His other hand slips into my shirt, onto the bottom of my back right above my pant line.
We're kissing, our mouths open, tongues exploring each others mouths. I push him into the bathroom, against a wall. I caress my hand over his stomach, feel his abs, his scars. Kissing him, wanting, craving more. Then suddenly he pushes back against me, and I feel the rush of the emotions from when he left me for Annalise all flood back. I feel myself cower back, but like he senses what I'm thinking he reaches out and lays his hand gently against my cheek. Kisses me softly.
I keep my hands from wandering away from his hips, nervous. I've wanted this for so long, scared that if I move too fast he'll freak and leave me. Maybe this is a mistake, he's kissing me, and though I'm kissing him back it's not the same as it was a second ago. A part of me wants to stop now before we go to far, but the bigger part says 'it doesn't matter, I want him now.' He pulls away, and looks into my eyes. He knows me better than I thought because he takes my hands and moves them up his stomach, almost like he's saying "it's okay." I decide to take that validation and run with it. Push him back against the wall, caress his stomach, scars. Our kissing gets intense again, and I feel more at ease just soaking in the moment. His hands caress up and down my back. His fingers slides into my pant line, and he kisses me a couple times before pulling back, our eyes interlocking. He smiles, maybe more a smirk. No matter what it is, I know what it means.