Single Mom

Blame for peach pie - II

 After reading the messages, Nathalie sighed and stared at her son for a few moments. Of course, it was not his fault, but she couldn't explain that revenge that encourages him to behave the same way.

— I will believe that you have nothing to do with it — carefully, she messed with her blond hair — However, you already know what will happen in case of a slip — the voice came out hard, it just wasn't a threat because it was a warning .

— I know... — Felix confirmed, hugging her a little more — Will you need to go now?

— I will... — the answer was followed by a kiss on the forehead. Nathalie kindly made him let go. — You don't have to wait for me to have lunch — she said as she took a few steps toward the door.

.

.

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Gabriel is dramatic in itself.

Men are usually dramatic when sick.

Gabriel was dramatic beyond human capacity.

After the failed attempt at lunch, the only thing he was able to do to try to get rid of all the sickness and discomfort was to hide in the bathroom and "put everything out". Now, almost an hour later, he had nothing left to be "put away" and he still felt bad, with an absolute certainty that he would die if he continued like this.

So he did the only thing he could: he filled Nathalie with messages.

Dying in a depressing way was acceptable, after all, you couldn't exactly choose a way to die - but he would like it much more if it were a glamorous way -; however, dying alone was out of the question!

For a few minutes, Gabriel considered sending messages to his son and asking him to go over there to hear his last words, but it was enough to remember the figure of the boy laughing at him because of his purple hair to change his mind. It needed to be someone capable of maintaining seriousness, something compatible with that funeral moment... it needed to be Nathalie.

And speaking of the demon, it appeared to be her knocking on the bedroom door:

— Mister Agreste!? — Nathalie asked in a louder tone, knocking twice on the door — Are you okay?

— No! I suck! — he shouted, sprawling on the floor of the bathroom.

— Do you want me to come in!?

— Of course yes! I didn't call you to spend my last strength yelling at you!

He heard the bedroom door open and then close. The sound of Nathalie's heels hitting the floor was annoying, it seemed much louder now that he had his head stuck to the ground.

— Sir, is everything okay in there? — She asked in a slightly concerned tone.

— It's not all right, Nathalie. I am dying!

— From the smell that's coming from there, I don't doubt it.

— Will you be joking or help me have a dignified death !? Get in that damn bathroom and help me! — ordered, after all, sick or not he was still Gabriel Agreste.

— That wouldn't be professional at all! — the assistant immediately warned — I am not paid for this kind of thing... — she muttered stressed, before finally asking for something rational: — Please, get out of there!

— If I could stand on my own, I would have left! — Agreste snarled — Get in here and help me have a dignified death, Nathalie!

— Before: what should I expect to see? I don't want to be shocked or anything, so I'd like to be warned about possible nudity or gore scene first, sir, — she asked as she turned the handle.