Merry Christmas! I know that I'm a bit late in writing you a gift fic, but I'm really glad that we became friends through the Forum. I'm glad that you had a wonderful Christmas, and I really do hope that this belated Christmas gift from me makes you happy and that I did one of your favorite pairings justice though it did end up a little bittersweet, but there's always hope for them. So, I hope that this idea that took me by storm yesterday ends up becoming a story that you absolutely adore and treasure. Have a blessed fourth day after Christmas! I really do hope that this story somehow manages to bring a smile to your face and was well worth the wait.
It was easy to see how someone might just see an employee just trying to save her job, and it was also pretty easy to assume that this was just a friendship built up by years of working close to each other. It happened as many countless tales of friendships truly began. But for Nathalie, she didn't feel anything platonic about this at all, not as her arms rested over broad shoulders or as her hands gently rested over his heart, feeling his heart beat that slow and normal pace that it always had when she was near.
There was nothing platonic for her even as words that lately felt more like the slight sting of acid over her tongue as she spoke them came out, a 'longing' for him to be reunited with his wife that rested as if dead in a coffin, that might as well have been dead as no breath ever seemed to leave her lips. Nathalie had admired Emilie, had found somewhat of a friend in her through working with the Agrestes, and yet those words still stung. She wanted Gabriel to be happy, and yet she wanted this too.
Every act of encouragement became more for Gabriel than it ever could be just for Emilie, and Nathalie knew how futile it was to admit even as she pressed hands gently against a heart that never raced for her, even as she encouraged a man that she'd grown to love. It would sting only for a little while; she'd remind herself when it became a little too hard to bear. Either he'll move on, or something will force her heart to still as it now raced. His shoulders were a stronghold for her to rest upon when she hugged him, a place to steady her through how steady he always seemed. Even when he was broken, she loved him and just wished that her arms could build a million strongholds for him.
She'd gladly die for him, given the chance, even though an employee never wanted to die for their boss, just waited patiently for the next paycheck. Nathalie counted her paychecks as just something earned from her heart's yearning and hardwork and barely looked at them anymore beyond using them as a way to pay for whatever was needed that week.
Just taking a chance, becoming Mayura, fighting for Gabriel was invigorating and exhausting and yet just knowing that her hard work meant something beyond just work lit up something inside of her. His worry afterwards reminded her that though she saved him, she risked herself, that he cared for her.
Maybe there was more to the way that he held her as he tried to look out for her. For once, the tables were turned, and Nathalie admired the different. It felt so different for him to hold her close, felt so different for his worry to meet reality, as if suddenly she became more than just his secretary. Was it selfish to hope that she'd became so much more through this sacrifice of hers?
Using a damaged Miraculous could claim your life, but Nathalie would gladly take the fall if only to hold on to this, as it tentatively peeked through the eyes of friendship or perhaps more. Nathalie's life became meaningless when he was in danger. She'd gladly lay her life down for Gabriel time and time again.
It wasn't unusual to arrange Adrien's schedule right alongside his father's, but perhaps it was unusual to slip in a few extra minutes of free time for Adrien. Maybe he'd be more like a son than a boss of hers one day. Perhaps it was wishful thinking to let a small smile form on her face when he asked about it, and she let him know that he could use it to spend time with some friends.
Maybe he, too, found love both as impossible and hopeful as she did, but even so, she wanted him to be happy, to maybe one day see her as more than his father's secretary. It mattered how Gabriel's son felt about her, whether he could see her as a mother one day or not, even though she wasn't sure that she was ready to call him a son of hers just yet. Nathalie might get there one day, but it all mattered on what Gabriel felt for her. A stepmother wasn't formed by just wishful thinking after all.
Some days, she worried that when she caught affection in Gabriel's eyes that it never would be for her. Could a memory of his wife be playing behind closed eyelids? Could he see Emilie in his secretary even though they looked nothing alike and surely had never acted the same? Some days, it was much easier to pretend that his affection meant something far greater for her than just a memory springing to mind. Those days, she thought that she could feel a stutter in his chest when she hugged him from behind, always supporting him, always watchful.
Nathalie saw Gabriel Agreste as more than just her boss, but even if it took him a while to see her as more than just his secretary, she'd wait, listening to that steady heart beat. If he never saw her as anything more, she doubted that she could just turn her feelings away at the door.
She'd still find herself waiting, with bated breath, hoping that one day, he'll consider how fast and irregular her heart beat when she drew close to him, just the way that she looked at him when she was sure that he wouldn't notice. Her feelings weren't just hidden; they could be found out if you knew her, if you just focused hard enough.
Gabriel knew her, knew her pretty well, and she'd never say that he wasn't observant. Maybe one day, his hands will rest over hers as they rest on his heart, and he'll let her know that her presence means more to him than just a way to bring back his dead wife, actually means that she'll be allowed to draw even closer. Nathalie was never terribly impatient nor did she find herself struggling with waiting.
As a secretary, sometimes the act of waiting was her job.