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The sound of her coughing echoed in her dark room, rattling around the blank walls and making her head pound. Her room was empty, all grey curtains and white walls and dark grey sheets and plain black furniture. The only light came from the crack underneath the door and a slit between the curtains.
Nathalie doubled over, coughs wracking her thin frame. The petals burned as they came up, choking her, threatening to steal what little air she had left. She spat the flower into her hand, crushing the delicate bloom in her fingers.
The veronica. Also known as the speedwell flower, the small blue petals represented loyalty, faithfulness, and devotion, as well as (quite ironically) being known for its supposed medicinal properties. She’d chokingly laughed when she first read it, the glaring brightness from her computer screen the only light in the room as she hacked up handfuls of the supposedly healing flower.
She coughed once more, dislodging one last petal stuck in her throat, before shoving the damning blooms in her pillowcase to join the rest of them. If Gabriel saw… No. She couldn’t let him know.
Speaking of Gabriel. A knock sounded on the door, right on time. She pushed her pillow back into place, swinging her useless legs over the side of her bed. “Come in.”
“Nathalie,” he said as he pushed the door open, something akin to a smile on his lips. “I seem to have misplaced my…”
“Your schedule for the next week should be on my desk,” she interrupted smoothly. “Adrien’s is next to it. His bodyguard should be aware of any plans made as well.”
“Ah.” Gabriel crossed the dark room, long legs striding faster than she ever could, even before the curse of the peacock miraculous settled in. She swallowed down the burning that meant more flowers, more petals, more pain, as he knelt next to her, undoing the straps on her mechanical legs. “Here, let me.”
She held her breath as his fingers gently slid her legs into place, fighting back a wince as they twinged with pain. When he looked up at her, his face was inches from her own.
“Thank you sir,” she said, hating the way her voice sounded breathless as it escaped her lips.
His own lips curved up in a soft smile. “You’re welcome.”
She was frozen, glued in place by that smile, and she cursed the way it held power over her. “I- I need to go. I’ll be late.”
Gabriel finally pulled back, heaving a sigh. “Ah, yes. Tell your sister that I hope whatever she gains from your presence is important enough to steal my most valuable employee for a week.”
Nathalie smiled weakly. “I will, sir.”
“Good.” The fashion mogul stood, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Nathalie wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the flowers down if her bare skin touched his, so she pushed herself up, ignoring the proffered help. She ignored the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly at her refusal as well.
The walk through the echoing halls of the mansion was quiet. The emotional, naively hopeful part of her brain wondered if he’d picked up on her mood, if he was worried about her, if he could sense that something was different. The more rational part knew that he was most likely thinking of how to manage the upcoming week on his own. He’d never been a sentimental man. It was one of the things she loved about him.
“I still don’t understand why Bob can’t just drive you,” Gabriel finally said, pausing in the front doorway.
“Adrien has a fencing competition this afternoon,” she interjected before he could try to talk her out of using a taxi yet again. She slowly made her way down the front steps, clutching her tablet to her chest. “Bob needs to drive him there and back and keep an eye on him during the tournament.”
“Ah.” Gabriel huffed as he followed her down, clearly displeased, but dropped the subject like she knew he would. “Well then,” he said, opening the car door. “Goodbye, Nathalie.”
“Goodbye, sir,” she said. “Call me if you need anything.”
He scoffed. “I’ll be fine.”
Nathalie let her lips curve into the tiniest of smiles. “Of course you will, sir.”
At his nod, she climbed into the backseat of the taxi, grunting softly as her heavy legs hit the floor. Gabriel closed the door behind her.
She allowed herself one last look at him as the car began to drive. Standing in the courtyard, hands folded behind his back, sunlight gleaming in his hair. He was the picture of uncaring poise, but she knew by the way he stood, watching until the car turned a corner and she lost sight of him, that he cared. He may not have shown it in the most… traditional way, but he cared.
It just wasn’t enough to stop the pain.
“The gentleman back there already paid me, so no need to worry about that when we arrive,” the driver said, snapping her attention back to the present. “Just sit back and enjoy the view. Traveling through the country is always pleasant this time of year.”
“Yes, about that,” she interrupted before he could prattle on. “There’s been a change in destination.” Her throat burned with the need to cough, to expel the flowers sitting in her lungs, but she ignored it like she always did. “Please take me to the Gentle Thorns Hospital.”
She didn’t miss the way the driver started, staring at her in the rear view mirror. “A-are you sure?”
She met his eyes with her own steely gaze. “Yes, I’m sure. And keep the rest of the money. Mr. Agreste won’t be missing it.”
“Al-alright then.”
Nathalie turned her attention down to the tablet in her hands, ignoring the way the driver’s eyes flicked back to her every so often as he changed courses.
She knew what she was doing. Knew what had to be done. The decision had been surprisingly simple, for all people complained about it being the hardest thing they’d ever have to do. It wasn’t like it would negatively affect her work. In fact, the benefits would far outway the cons. No more pesky flowers, no more pesky feelings. Just the same cold calculation that she knew Gabriel had always relied on.
The flowers had to go.
She was doing them all a favor by removing her love.