Author's Note: Some of this was inspired by a scene in "Cinnamon and Vanilla" by LiquifiedStars
Gabriel hadn't been drunk in years, so Nathalie was concerned when she first entered the office.
Her concern grew when she saw the nearly empty bottle on the table. "Did you drink all of that tonight?"
His bleary gaze turned to her, seemingly unable to look away. His voice sounded surprisingly normal as he said, "You don't need to worry about me, Nathalie. I can handle it."
She doubted that. "Stand up, Gabriel."
Perhaps he wasn't as drunk as she thought as he stood and came to her easily.
Now close enough that she could smell the sweet scent of the wine lingering on his clothes, he smiled.
She frowned. "You aren't planning on akumatizing anyone tonight, are you?"
He laughed, a laugh she would've expected from Hawk Moth, not Gabriel. "No, I could only imagine how badly that would go."
"And where is your Miraculous?"
"The attic."
"Why?"
"I became . . . frustrated."
"That explains the wine. I'll go retrieve your Miraculous." She didn't like the idea of leaving Nooroo all alone. Unlike Gabriel, she cared about treating the kwamis well.
He accompanied her to the attic. Nathalie switched open the window, moonlight streaming inside. She caught sight of the brooch on the floor and slipped it into her pocket.
"You should go to bed," she suggested, but he had become transfixed by the sky.
"I haven't fully looked at the stars in years," he said quietly. "They're beautiful."
She moved next to him, following his gaze. He was correct; they were quite pretty.
But it was still an odd thing for him to be saying.
"It's late," she said gently, laying a hand on his arm. "And if you don't go to sleep soon, you'll have a horrible headache in the morning."
He turned to her, eyes once again adopting the same look from the office, like he didn't want to look away.
As if in a trance, he shifted closer, slipping his arms around her waist.
"Gabriel?" she asked, eyes widening and heart quickening. What had gotten into him?
Perhaps she was only dreaming.
Or maybe not, judging by the kiss he gave her. It was a gentle kiss, not reflective of what one would expect from someone who was slightly drunk.
She cupped his face, but something made her hesitate. As much as she wanted to stay there, she knew it wasn't right.
Nathalie gently pulled away. "I'm sorry, Gabriel, but I can't. Not when you're still fighting for Emilie. It's not fair to any of us. Besides, you're drunk."
His expression was pained, his eyes conflicted as he looked down. "I . . . I don't know what I want anymore."