Indecision is Hurtful

Chapter Three

   "Emilie why are you so against change?" he snapped slightly.

   "Because she is the cause of this change you speak of! I was only gone for two years or so and you let her decide what she thought was best?"

   Gabriel grit his teeth in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed audibly.

   "And just what do you plan to do now?"

   "I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. Put this family back in the right picture frame. Without your Nathalie Sancoeur included!" Her phone rang and she rushed to check it. "And apparently attend the press con tonight, fixing your mistake," she left, leaving Gabriel to growl in frustration.

   He paced back and forth, forth and back, and back and forth again. He settled in his podium, opening his designs in which Emilie was his muse. He opened another canvas to take his mind off of this harsh matter by creating some sort of design— anything.

   His hand refused to draw Emilie unlike what they normally do.

   One stroke,

   Erase.

   Another stroke,

   Erase, erase, erase.

   His mind was blank. His thoughts wandered at the conversation they had earlier. He found it unreal for himself to lie to his wife. Especially about something so important like the miraculouses and the heroes he unmasked. Sooner or later, he knew that Emilie might remember where his brooch was always placed. So he took this moment to discreetly unpin it and stuck it on the inside of his right cuff next to the cherry-colored buttons. Nooroo can manage the change for a while. And Duusu, along with the other two kwamis were placed behind the secret compartment behind Emilie's glorious portrait.

   Like a goddess fooling everyone with every ounce of her beauty.

   For some reason, he had only let Nathalie know about it.

   He wandered off into the halls, letting his heels click loudly to tear through the dense silence.

   "Nathalie, can you please show me the broadcast of—"

   Wait.

   She isn't here anymore.

   He realized that her constancy was what he had gotten used to. Her magnetism always made him draw close to her. And the way she saw him as a man capable of accepting sudden changes (slowly), made his heart swell in something unfathomable. He loved her loyalty. Yet he took it for granted. He started to slightly feel the aftermath of regret ensnaring his thoughts. And now, for real...

   He was truly alone.

 
   He walked towards Adrien's door, having nowhere else to go. Despite his guilt, he knocked. No one answered yet he knew they were there. The door was unlocked and he showed himself in without so much of a second thought.

   Adrien was sleeping on Marinette's lap while they sat on the couch, his eyes the evidence of how much he had cried today. A blanket was wrapped around him and the girl busied herself with watching what Emilie Agreste had to say to the press.

   "Ladybug— ah, Marinette. I wanted to inform you that I refused to push myself to tell Emilie of what had transpired today."

   "I know," she said, eyes never leaving the TV. "If your house wasn't a mansion, the whole people of Paris could've heard your entire argument," she deadpanned.

   He sat down at the bottom of the couch in front of his son who was sleeping, evidently tired of the day that they had just lived through. He placed a hand on his hair, smoothing them out.