Back in Marinette's room, the two of them lay close, wrapped in each other's warmth. Gurvinder's bandaged arms rested against her as she held onto him, her face nestled against his chest. His breathing was steady, peaceful—something rare for him. Marinette, too, felt at ease, as if the chaos of the past few days had finally quieted down in this moment.

Outside the doorway, Sabine and Tom stood watching, their expressions soft with relief. After everything, seeing their daughter and the boy who had been through so much find comfort in each other filled them with warmth.

Tom let out a quiet chuckle, whispering, "I guess we really have two kids now."

Sabine smiled, her voice just as soft. "And they're both stubborn as ever."

With one last glance, they quietly shut the door, letting them rest.

Sabine and Tom walked back to the living room, their expressions shifting from warmth to concern. Tom let out a heavy sigh as he took a seat, rubbing his temples.

"We've been so focused on his recovery that we haven't talked about his legal issues," he said, glancing at Sabine. "His uncle is still making things difficult. The papers haven't gone through yet."

Sabine sat beside him, folding her arms. "I know. I called the lawyer today—his uncle is refusing to sign anything, and without those documents, we can't move forward with his guardianship."

Tom clenched his fists. "That man doesn't care about Gurvinder. He just wants control."

Sabine nodded. "But we're not giving up. If we have to fight this legally, we will. He's our family now."

Tom exhaled, leaning back. "We need to talk to the lawyer again tomorrow. Gurvinder may be strong, but he shouldn't have to fight this battle alone."

Sabine reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "He won't. We'll fight for him, just like he fights for everyone else."

Tom let out a deep sigh, his voice firm but laced with concern. "We have no choice now, Sabine. His uncle isn't going to back down. We'll have to take this to court."

Sabine's eyes darkened with worry. "And Gurvinder will have to fight this battle too…"

Tom nodded. "He has to stand in court, speak for himself, and prove that he deserves to stay here. It won't be easy. His uncle will try everything to make him look unfit, unworthy."

Sabine exhaled shakily. "He's been through enough, Tom. And now this?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on hers. "I know. But if there's one thing I've learned about Gurvi, it's that he doesn't back down. He's strong. And we'll be right there with him."

Sabine still looked troubled, but she nodded. "Then we need to prepare him. He needs to know what's coming."

Marinette and Gurvinder jolted awake as Tom abruptly pushed the door open.

Tom stood there, arms crossed, looking down at them with a serious expression. Sabine stood behind him, her hands clasped together, worry clear in her eyes.

Marinette's face burned red as she realized the position they were in—wrapped in each other's arms, tangled in warmth and comfort. Gurvi blinked, still groggy from sleep, before rubbing his sore arms and sitting up slightly.

"Uh... morning?" Gurvi muttered, his voice still thick with sleep.

Marinette, on the other hand, scrambled to sit up properly. "P-Papa! It's not what it looks like!" she blurted out, waving her hands.

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll talk about this later," he said, clearly too focused on something more urgent. His tone made both of them straighten up.

Sabine stepped forward, softer in her approach. "We need to talk, Gurvinder. It's about your uncle. About the legal battle."

The drowsiness immediately left Gurvi's eyes, replaced by sharp focus. Marinette tensed beside him, her hand instinctively gripping his.

"What happened?" Gurvi asked, his voice calm but serious.

Tom sat on the chair near the desk, leaning forward. "Your uncle is pushing hard to get you back. The only way to stop him is to fight in court. And that means you have to be ready."

Gurvi dropped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of reality pressed down on him.

"He won't let me go," he muttered, his voice distant. "I earn him huge money."

Marinette's heart clenched at his words. She knew his uncle was a monster, but every time Gurvi spoke about it, it felt even worse. She reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly.

Tom and Sabine exchanged glances, their expressions dark. "We know," Tom said, his voice firm. "That's exactly why we can't let him win."

Sabine sat on the bed beside Gurvi, brushing his arm gently. "You're not alone in this," she assured him. "We'll fight with you."

Gurvi let out a slow breath, his hand tightening around Marinette's. "It won't be easy," he warned. "My uncle isn't just some man throwing threats—he owns people. He's got power, money, influence. He's not gonna play fair."

Tom's jaw clenched. "Then we'll have to be smarter."

Gurvi exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. "Yeah? And what if he finds another way? What if—"

Marinette cut him off, placing a hand over his lips. "We're not letting him win, Gurvi," she said, her voice firm. "You've fought battles before. You've fought for me. Now let us fight for you."

Gurvi stared at her, his usual wit absent, replaced by something softer. He wanted to believe them. He needed to. But deep down, he knew—his uncle wouldn't let go without a war.

Gurvi exhaled deeply, his eyes flickering with the weight of everything ahead. But then, slowly, he nodded.

"I'll fight," he said, his voice steady, but his fists clenched. "I'm not letting that man control my life anymore."

Marinette's grip on his hand tightened, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "That's the Gurvi I know."

Tom gave him a firm nod. "Good. Because we're with you every step of the way."

Sabine placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We'll start preparing. No matter how powerful he is, the law is still the law."

Gurvi took another breath, then let out a short chuckle. "Guess I should get used to fighting in a different kind of ring now."

Marinette smirked. "Don't worry, you've got a whole team in your corner."

For the first time in a long while, Gurvi felt something close to hope. This battle wouldn't be easy—but for once, he wasn't fighting alone.

Tom crossed his arms, a teasing smirk on his face. "You know, Sabine, I don't think we need to worry about these two. They already act like a married couple."

Sabine chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Oh, absolutely. The way they were clinging to each other, it was like they were afraid they'd be separated in their sleep."

Marinette's face turned red instantly. "D-Dad!" she whined, hiding her face in her hands.

Gurvi, on the other hand, just smirked, stretching his sore arms. "Well, can you blame me? After getting beaten up, I needed some comfort."

Tom raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh? So our daughter is your personal pillow now?"

Marinette groaned, throwing a pillow at her dad. "Stop it!"

Sabine giggled. "Alright, alright, we'll stop. But it's sweet, really."

Tom sighed dramatically. "Guess we should start planning a wedding soon."

"Okay, I'm leaving," Marinette huffed, dragging Gurvi out of the room while Tom and Sabine laughed behind them.

"marinette they need to go out its your room" chuckled gurvi.

Marinette groaned, still flustered. "Yes! Exactly! This is my room, so you two need to leave!"

Tom smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, so we need to leave? Last I checked, we own this house, young lady."

Sabine giggled, nudging her husband. "Come on, Tom, let's not embarrass them too much."

Gurvi chuckled, looking at Marinette's red face. "Don't worry, Mari. If they won't leave, we can leave instead."

Marinette gasped, eyes wide. "Wait, no! That's not what I—"

Tom let out a hearty laugh. "Alright, alright, we'll go. But you two better behave."

Marinette grabbed a pillow and threw it at them as they finally walked out, still chuckling. She let out a dramatic sigh, burying her face in her hands.

"I swear, they're worse than you," she muttered.

Gurvi smirked, leaning back on the bed. "Hey, I didn't say anything. This was all your parents."

She huffed, but a small smile played on her lips. "Unbelievable..."

Gurvi barely had a second to react before Marinette grabbed his wrist and pulled him down onto the bed with her.

"Whoa, Mari—" he started, but she had already wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his chest.

"Just shut up and sleep," she mumbled, her voice laced with drowsiness.

Gurvi sighed but smirked as he adjusted himself, letting her cling onto him like a koala. "You really can't sleep without doing this, huh?"

She hummed in response, too tired to argue. Her grip tightened slightly as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.

Gurvi's smirk softened as he rested his chin lightly on her head. "Alright, alright. Sleep well, dummy," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Within moments, the room was filled with the quiet sound of their steady breathing, tangled in warmth and comfort.

The next morning, Gurvi stood in front of the mirror, buttoning up his shirt. For the first time, he didn't bother wrapping his arms in bandages or wearing long sleeves to hide the scars that crisscrossed his skin. The bruises had faded into dull marks, but the scars—his history—remained. He ran his fingers over them briefly, then scoffed.

"Why even hide them now?" he muttered to himself.

Marinette, sitting on the bed tying her shoes, looked up and stared at him. Her gaze traced over his arms—each scar told a story, a battle, a night of pain he endured alone.

"You sure about this?" she asked softly, standing up and walking toward him.

Gurvi rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms a little. "At this point, let them look all they want. People already know I fight, might as well let them see what comes with it."

Marinette's heart clenched. He said it so casually, but she knew this was more than just a fashion choice—this was him refusing to hide anymore.

She reached out, tracing her fingers gently over a particularly deep scar on his forearm. "They don't define you, you know?"

Gurvi smirked. "Maybe not. But they're part of me. If people want to talk, let them."

Marinette let out a small breath and nodded. "Alright then," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "Let's go show them who you are."

With that, they grabbed their bags and headed out, ready to face the world together.

As Gurvi and Marinette stepped through the school gates, the air felt different.

He had always been used to the stares—some filled with disgust, others with judgment. But today, those same eyes held something new. Respect. Curiosity. Even admiration.

Whispers followed him, but they weren't the usual cruel ones.

"That's him… he fought twelve armed men and still made it in time to save Marinette's dress."

"Bro's built different."

"Damn, I thought he was just some troublemaker, but he actually—"

"Did you see those scars? He's been through hell."

Some students nodded at him as he walked by, others even gave him a pat on the back or murmured, "Nice one, man."

For the first time, he wasn't the outcast people wanted to avoid. He was the guy they respected.

Marinette, walking beside him, grinned as she nudged his side. "Told you. Enjoying your fanbase, tough guy?"

Gurvi rolled his eyes. "Let's see how long this lasts."

But deep down, for the first time in a long time, he felt something warm. Something unfamiliar. Maybe… acceptance?

As soon as Gurvi stepped into the classroom, all eyes were on him. The chatter died down, replaced by a heavy silence filled with unspoken thoughts.

He had faced underground fighters, ruthless men, and life-threatening situations, but somehow, this moment—standing in front of his classmates with all their attention on him—felt just as intense.

His hand instinctively found Marinette's, gripping it tightly. Maybe for support. Maybe for reassurance.

Marinette felt it, the slight tremble in his usually steady grip. She turned to him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, silently telling him, I'm here.

Then, Nino broke the silence with a loud, impressed whistle. "Dude, you're a freaking legend!"

That was all it took. Suddenly, the whole class erupted.

"Bro, you fought twelve guys and won?"

"Why didn't you tell us you were built like a warrior?"

"Man, you're insane—in a good way!"

Kim smirked, crossing his arms. "You gotta spar with me sometime. Teach me a few moves!"

Gurvi still held onto Marinette's hand, his grip relaxing just a bit as the overwhelming stares turned into admiration instead of judgment.

He exhaled. Maybe… just maybe, this wasn't so bad.

No one looked at him with pity. No one treated him like some tragic figure who needed their sympathy.

Instead, they gathered around him, eyes filled with admiration, respect, and curiosity. They weren't whispering behind his back anymore—they were talking to him, about him.

"Dude, how long have you been fighting?"

"Did you actually take down twelve guys alone?"

"Man, we had no idea you were this strong!"

Even people who never spoke to him before were now eager to hear his story. It wasn't about feeling sorry for him—it was about recognizing the sheer strength he had.

Marinette, standing beside him, could see the shift. The boy who once sat alone, misunderstood and judged, was now the center of attention—not because of his scars, but because of the battles he had fought and won.

For the first time, Gurvi didn't feel like someone people looked down on.

They were looking up to him.

Gurvi, feeling the shift in the air, smirked and finally let his wit take over.

"Twelve guys? Pfft, I was just getting warmed up. If there were twenty, maybe I would've broken a sweat," he said, rolling his shoulders dramatically.

The class laughed, a mix of amazement and amusement in their eyes.

"Wait, but weren't they armed with steel rods?" Kim asked.

"Oh yeah, but they needed those. Imagine fighting me empty-handed? That'd be straight-up bullying," Gurvi shot back, making Nino snort.

Marinette shook her head, exasperated but smiling. There he goes again.

"So, Gurvi, do you like... train or something?" Ivan asked, genuinely curious.

Gurvi leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms. "Nah, I just wake up, stare in the mirror, and my muscles get scared enough to bulk up on their own."

The whole class burst into laughter. Even Adrien chuckled, shaking his head.

For the first time, the atmosphere around Gurvi wasn't tense, wasn't filled with judgment or unease. He was still the same Gurvi—scarred, battle-hardened, and carrying a past most couldn't imagine. But now, people saw him as more than that.

And that? That felt good.

Alya smirked as she nudged Marinette, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, "Damn, girl, your boy is the coolest guy in school now. How does it feel dating a real-life action hero?"

Marinette groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Alya, stop—"

"Oh no, no, you don't get to be shy about this! Do you see how everyone's looking at him? Respect, admiration... I mean, Kim literally looks like he wants to ask him for training tips!" Alya giggled.

Marinette peeked through her fingers, seeing how the class was still huddled around Gurvi, asking questions, laughing at his witty remarks, and just... treating him differently. It was surreal.

"You know, Mari, if you don't lock this guy down soon, half the girls in this school might try their luck." Alya teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

Marinette shot her a glare before crossing her arms. "Excuse me? As if that dummy is even aware of anyone else!"

Alya just smirked. "Mmm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, girl."

Alya leaned in closer, grinning mischievously. "Come on, Mari, let's be real—your boy was already hot. The muscles, the wit, that beard, the turban—absolute chef's kiss! And now? He's famous too? You've officially won the boyfriend jackpot!"

Marinette groaned, her face heating up. "Alya, stop it!"

"Oh no, no, no," Alya teased, wiggling her eyebrows. "This is my moment. I need to remind you just how unfairly attractive your man is. Like, do you see how he's standing there? Looking all broody, arms crossed, showing off those scars like some battle-hardened warrior? Mari, he's walking fanfiction material!"

Marinette buried her face in her hands. "I swear, you are the worst."

"And you, my dear bestie, are the luckiest." Alya winked before glancing back at Gurvi, who was completely unaware of their conversation, still chatting with the guys.

"I mean, seriously, Mari," Alya added with a dramatic sigh, "If you ever get tired of him—which you won't, but IF—I'm just saying, I'd totally snatch him up."

Marinette's head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Alya!"

Alya burst into laughter. "Relax, girl! He's all yours. And from the way he looks at you? You've got nothing to worry about."

Meanwhile, across the classroom, Nathaniel sat in silence, his fingers curled into fists as he watched the scene unfold. Everyone was talking about Gurvinder, admiring him, respecting him—like he was some kind of hero.

"This isn't fair," Nathaniel muttered under his breath.

Chloe, sitting beside him, crossed her arms, glaring at the group gathered around Gurvi. "Tell me about it. Just a few weeks ago, everyone hated him, and now? One stupid fight, and suddenly he's their golden boy?"

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. "It's not just that…" His eyes drifted to Marinette. She was smiling, laughing, glowing as she talked with Alya. And Gurvinder? He was right there next to her, like he belonged beside her.

"Ugh, and look at Dupain-Cheng!" Chloe scoffed. "Clinging to him like he's some prince from a tragic romance novel. Please. It's disgusting."

Nathaniel exhaled sharply, gripping the edge of his desk. "This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to be the outcast, the problem. Not the guy everyone looks up to. Not the guy she…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Chloe smirked, sensing his frustration. "So? What now? You're not just gonna sit here and watch them ride off into the sunset, are you?"

Nathaniel hesitated. His mind was at war. He had told himself he wouldn't go through with Chloe's plans. That he wasn't that person. But as he watched Marinette beam at Gurvinder, as he saw the admiration in her eyes—he felt something bitter twist inside him.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I can't just let this go."

Chloe's smirk widened. "Good. Because I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Nathaniel stiffened as Gurvinder casually pulled out the chair beside him. For a moment, he didn't respond, his fingers still clenched around the edge of his desk. The voices of the class buzzed around them, but in his mind, everything was drowned out by the heavy weight of his own thoughts.

"Can I sit here?" Gurvi asked again, his tone as casual as ever, but there was something underneath it—something Nathaniel couldn't quite place.

Nathaniel finally forced himself to look at him. His eyes flickered over Gurvinder's exposed arms, the scars, the bruises that hadn't fully healed yet. He wasn't even trying to hide them anymore. He was sitting there like he owned his pain.

"Do whatever you want," Nathaniel muttered, shifting slightly to the side.

Gurvinder leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out. He didn't say anything for a while, just sat there, as if he had all the time in the world. Then, after a moment, he glanced at Nathaniel and smirked.

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

Nathaniel scoffed, staring straight ahead. "What gave it away?"

"Just a hunch," Gurvi said, still smirking. He tapped his fingers against the desk. "You've been quiet lately. Almost like you're thinking too much."

Nathaniel tensed. "Maybe I just don't have anything to say."

"Or maybe," Gurvinder tilted his head slightly, "you're still mad that I'm here."

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. He turned his head slightly, just enough to meet Gurvi's gaze. There was no smugness in his eyes, no arrogance—just that same unreadable confidence, as if he knew something Nathaniel didn't.

"Why are you even talking to me?" Nathaniel asked, his voice sharp.

Gurvinder exhaled through his nose, a small chuckle escaping. "I dunno, I guess I just like knowing what my enemies are thinking."

Nathaniel's breath hitched. "I'm not your enemy."

Gurvi's smirk grew just a little. "Aren't you?"

For a second, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick, charged with something unspoken. Then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passed. Gurvinder leaned back again, stretching his arms behind his head as if nothing had happened.

"Relax, man. I'm just messing with you," he said, grinning. "Besides, if you really hated me, you wouldn't be letting me sit here."

Nathaniel didn't respond. He just looked away, staring at his desk, his mind still spinning. Gurvinder might've been joking, but deep down, Nathaniel knew—he wasn't wrong.

Gurvinder exhaled, resting his arms on the desk as he turned his gaze toward Nathaniel. The usual teasing glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by something calmer, something… understanding.

"I know you love Marinette."

Nathaniel flinched, his fingers curling into fists. He didn't respond, just stared straight ahead, his heart hammering against his ribs.

But Gurvinder didn't push. He wasn't mocking, wasn't taunting—just stating it like a simple fact.

"I'm not here to rub it in," Gurvi continued. "I just… I get it."

Nathaniel scoffed, shaking his head. "You don't get anything."

"Don't I?" Gurvi mused, leaning back. "Loving someone who doesn't love you back… knowing you'd never be their first choice, no matter what you do?" He let out a small chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "Yeah, Nathan. I get it."

Nathaniel swallowed hard, his throat dry. He didn't want to hear this—not from him. Not from the guy who had her.

"So what, you came here to pity me?" he muttered, his voice bitter.

"No," Gurvinder said simply. "I came here because I don't want you to lose yourself over it."

Nathaniel froze.

"You don't have to like me," Gurvi went on. "Hell, you can hate me if it makes you feel better. But don't let that hate turn you into something you're not." His voice was steady, sincere. "Because once you cross that line… there's no going back."

Nathaniel clenched his jaw, his breath unsteady. For the first time in a long time, he felt seen—and it terrified him.

Gurvinder didn't say anything else. He just sat there, letting the words settle, before turning his attention back to the front of the class, as if the conversation had never happened.

But Nathaniel couldn't shake it off. The words lingered, clawing at his mind.

And for the first time… he didn't know what to do.

Nathaniel's lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the sincerity in Gurvinder's voice. His fists were still clenched, his heart still twisted with bitterness, but there was something in the way Gurvi spoke—something real.

"Why do you care?" Nathaniel asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Gurvinder let out a slow breath, leaning forward on his desk. "Because I see it in your eyes," he admitted. "A guy who just wants someone to love him." His tone wasn't mocking, wasn't pitying—it was understanding.

Nathaniel felt his stomach drop.

"I know what it feels like," Gurvi continued. "To be ignored. To be looked past. To feel like no matter how much you give, it's never enough." He tilted his head slightly. "And I know how easy it is to let that feeling turn into something ugly."

Nathaniel swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wanted to argue, wanted to push him away, but… Gurvi wasn't wrong.

"I just don't want you to lose yourself over this," Gurvinder added. "Trust me… it's not worth it."

Nathaniel stared at him, feeling a storm of emotions churn inside him. He hated how much sense Gurvi was making.

But more than that… he hated how much it hurt to hear the truth.

Nathaniel let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Easy for you to say. You already have her." His voice was laced with bitterness, but there was also exhaustion beneath it.

Gurvinder didn't react with pride or smugness. Instead, he shrugged. "Yeah… but that's not the point." He tapped his fingers against the desk. "Look, I won't pretend it doesn't suck. But Marinette was never yours to lose in the first place. You can't force love, Nathaniel."

Nathaniel scoffed, looking away.

"And who knows?" Gurvi continued. "There are other girls out there. Maybe someone's already looking at you, waiting for you to notice."

Nathaniel frowned, the words settling into his chest uncomfortably. He wanted to reject them outright, but… could that really be true?

"Just don't let this turn you into someone you're not," Gurvi added, standing up and stretching his arms. "It's not worth it, man."

Nathaniel didn't respond right away, his mind tangled in thoughts he wasn't ready to face. But for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel completely alone in them.

The lunch table was loud with chatter and laughter as Gurvinder sat with his friends. Alya was teasing Marinette, Nino was cracking jokes, and Adrien was laughing along. Kim was animatedly talking about some new challenge, and the overall mood was light.

In the middle of it all, Nathaniel hesitated near the table. He took a breath before finally stepping forward.

"Can I join in?" he asked, his voice steady but unsure.

The table quieted slightly, everyone exchanging glances. Marinette looked at him with surprise, Alya raised a brow, and even Nino blinked in mild shock. But before anyone else could react, Gurvi simply patted the empty seat beside him.

"Yeah, man. Sit down." His tone was casual, as if nothing had ever been wrong between them.

Nathaniel hesitated for a second, then nodded and took the seat. The conversation slowly picked up again, a little awkward at first, but soon enough, the group fell back into their usual rhythm.

For the first time in a long while, Nathaniel didn't feel like an outsider.

Gurvi casually leaned back in his seat and waved over the cafeteria worker, ordering food for everyone without a second thought. "I got this," he said, brushing off any protests with a smirk.

As the food arrived, the table filled with laughter and jokes. Nino and Adrien started a playful debate about superheroes, while Alya and Marinette rolled their eyes at their antics.

Gurvi, always quick with his wit, turned to Nathaniel with a smirk. "So, Nath, tell me… do you only draw tragic love stories, or is there a secret comic book out there where the guy actually gets the girl?"

Nathaniel huffed, shaking his head. "I do more than just love stories, you know."

"Yeah? Like what? Supervillains? Oh wait—" Gurvi feigned realization. "You already worked with one." He gave a teasing glance at Chloe, who was sitting far away, pretending not to care.

Nathaniel chuckled despite himself, shaking his head. "Okay, that was actually a good one."

The table erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long while, Nathaniel felt like he belonged there. Gurvi grinned, nudging him lightly.

"See? Told you you'd fit in."

Gurvi leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at Nathaniel. "Alright, man. Show me what you got," he said, nodding toward Nathaniel's sketchbook.

Nathaniel hesitated for a moment before sighing and pulling out his sketchbook. "Fine, but don't judge too hard."

Gurvi smirked. "You think I'm some art critic? Just show me."

Nathaniel flipped through the pages, revealing detailed character sketches, some dramatic, some lighthearted. There were intense expressions, beautifully designed costumes, and even a few comic panels in progress.

"Damn, these are actually really good," Gurvi admitted, tracing a finger over a particularly dynamic pose. "You ever think of making something big? Like a graphic novel?"

Nathaniel looked surprised at the genuine compliment. "I mean… yeah, someday, maybe."

"You should," Gurvi said simply. "You got talent, no point in letting it go to waste."

Nathaniel blinked at him, then nodded, a small smile forming. "Thanks… that actually means a lot."

The others, curious, leaned in to check out Nathaniel's work as well, giving their own compliments. For the first time in a while, Nathaniel felt seen—not as a guy filled with bitterness, but as an artist with real potential.

As they walked out of the school gates, Marinette glanced at Gurvi, her eyebrows slightly raised. "So… you and Nathaniel, huh?" she asked, nudging his arm.

Gurvi smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "What about it?"

"I mean, just a few days ago, he was basically plotting against us, and now you're sitting with him at lunch, checking out his artwork? What's with the sudden friendship?"

Gurvi sighed, looking up at the sky for a moment before answering. "I get him, Mari. He's just a guy trying to hold onto something—someone. I know what it's like to feel like you have no one, to want something so badly it messes with your head."

Marinette softened. "But he literally tried to ruin my competition—"

"And he backed out before it got worse," Gurvi interrupted gently. "That says something. He made a mistake, yeah, but who hasn't?"

Marinette crossed her arms, staring at him. "You're really something, you know that?"

Gurvi grinned. "Yeah, I do." He then looked at her with a more serious expression. "Look, I'm not saying we should trust him blindly. But I think he's trying. And if there's even a chance he can be better, shouldn't we give him that?"

Marinette sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. "You're too forgiving sometimes."

"Nah," Gurvi said, slinging an arm over her shoulders. "Just know what it's like to need a second chance."

She leaned into him as they walked. Maybe he had a point.