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Even though the day was radiant, the light entering the old-fashioned room had a hue that reminded Nathalie of sickness. A dark figure leaned against the windowsill; she was short, but her shadow was long enough to cut the room into two.
“Why are you here?” The voice reminded her of Amélie only slightly, and only because she knew who was under the mask. “Does your body need the Miraculous’ power that much?”
Unnatural yet familiar weakness clasped around Nathalie’s thighs at the thought. She held back a bitter chuckle at Amélie’s weak insult.
“It doesn’t.”
“It would be a shame if it did.” Amélie leapt away from the windowsill. “Why are you here then?”
“I wanted to make sure that you won’t do any harm with the Peacock.”
“You of all people came here for that?” Amélie stepped away from the window and walked closer. There was something in her stride that surpassed ordinary power. Nathalie remembered that power. She also knew Amélie and why she marched towards her.
Amélie stopped just centimetres in front of her. Nathalie did not step back, only tilted her head to look into Amélie’s eyes with defiance. Her acid green iris was so dark and endlessly deep that it almost merged with Amélie's pupil.
This far from the window’s concentrated light, Nathalie could finally take in Amélie. It seemed like she had adjusted her costume to the only thing that distinguished her from her sister—her platinum-coloured hair. Her outfit was white, its patterns trimmed with silver. It reminded Nathalie of the details on Emilie’s costume, and she wondered if Amélie knew how similar she and her sister were even in their differences. Her coattail was slightly longer than Mayura’s but nowhere as long as Emilie’s.
“Félix told me he's already assured Gabriel that no harm will come to you. I take it’s only you and Gabriel you’re worried about.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard Félix say a sentence without a lie hidden somewhere,” Nathalie answered.
“You’re one to talk.”
Nathalie wanted to retort, but Amélie was right.
Amélie reached to touch her cheek. Her silk gloves felt smooth against her skin as she ran a hooked index finger down Nathalie's cheek. She stood so close to Nathalie when she detransformed that the heat of the power leaving her body glazed Nathalie’s forehead.
“You don’t have to worry, Nathalie.” Amélie nodded to Duusu, who flew out of the room with head hanging. “Consider it as settling the score. Gabriel took my sister. You took my sister’s Miraculous.” Her eyebrows twitched. “And you and Gabriel have my family’s rings. I have nothing left of her.”
“But you know why we’re doing this, don’t you?”
Gabriel told her how Félix had blackmailed him. She guessed that Félix had shared it with his mother too. At least she hoped he had, because it was not her place to tell.
“I do. But Gabriel proved time and again that he doesn't know how to use any kind of power.”
“Do you hate him so much?”
Amélie's eyes fell to Nathalie’s hand. Nathalie automatically moved to clasp them behind her back, but stopped mid-movement. It was too late. She should have taken off the ring before coming here.
“Of course I hate him.” Amélie continued. “He took everything from me. He has so much, and doesn't know what to do with it. And I hate how you throw yourself away for him.”
“I can’t abandon him. I can’t abandon them.”
A bitter smile crossed Amélie's lips.
“We've changed a lot, didn't we? But some things never do.”
“No,” she replied weakly.
Amélie framed her face with both hands now. It felt warmer without the gloves. Amélie’s eyes widened, and Nathalie knew that her emotions were rushing through Amélie’s fingertips. She remembered how overwhelming that could be.
She was tired of it all—so tired that at some point, she stopped caring. In a world where people could only rely on their eyes, ears and judgement to read another, everything would be fine. But she was dragged out into the light and experienced first-hand how easy it can be to read a person. She did not miss knowing what people felt, and she came to terms with others knowing what she felt. She had to, if she wanted to keep her sanity.
So she looked into Amelie’s deep green eyes and let the emotions flow through her.
"Can I?" Amélie’s whisper startled her.
The question pressed into Natalie’s heart.
She nodded.
Amélie tasted like mint. She was refreshing, like crystalline water after a long, hot day. The feelings the kiss roused were confusing and manifold. Many years ago, before the Miraculous invaded their lives, she would have been beside herself. It would be a lie to claim that nothing from the feelings that had already existed hidden under so many memories stayed where they were. She was too afraid to set the old images free, because the ring around her finger was too heavy and present, and she suspected the brooch pressed against Amélie’s chest just the same.
But she returned the kiss, because she wanted to savour the life she lacked.
“I’m sorry,” Amélie whispered.
“No. I’m sorry.” She put her palm against the Peacock Miraculous. It was warmer than Amélie. As if it remembered and welcomed its former holder.
Amélie did not step back.
“I tell myself every day that soon, I'll take back the life that’s mine. That I’ll forget about the Miraculous.” It was a lie. She was never thinking about her life before Tibet. Although one could ask if it was a lie she told Amélie or herself? The words did leave her without permission.
"And now you have almost all of them."
Two days ago, when she had returned home and found the pieces of Miraculous neatly spread on her desk, she thought that justice was finally on their side. But then she saw the glint in Gabriel’s eyes.
She had left Gabriel in the atelier and Emilie’s ring on her desk. The next day the ring was still there, so Nathalie took it to keep it safe until Gabriel’s maddened greed stopped destroying the little humanity they still had.
She smiled. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“What are you going to do with them?” Amélie’s voice was devoid of her trademark mockery and arrogance.
“That’s up to Gabriel. I don’t think my body would be able to take the magic.”
Amélie nodded and gave her a warm smile. She looked like back in the day, before she and her sister had put on their masks.
“Then I hope you won’t do anything stupid again. I don’t want to receive another phone call like the one a year ago. If I would get one at all.”
“It goes both ways. I don’t have the right to question your intentions or tell you what to do. All I’m asking is that you strive to remain yourself while using the Miraculous.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the corner of Amélie’s mouth. It would not solve anything—her actions rarely did. But if she knew that it would keep Amélie rooted in reality, she would happily do anything in her power.