(no subject)

[petitebelette]

Both Spineless and Sublime
Rating: K now, M later
Pairing: Gabriel/Elle
Authors: superkappa and petitebelette
Summary: AU WITH POWERS. Elle convinces her dad to let her go to high school for one year before becoming an agent. She just wants to be normal. Just a little. Gabriel already goes to high school, and he hates it. The last thing he wants to be is normal. So obviously, it's hate at first sight.

Author’s Note: Not beta'd. Only by us over many months of rereading. So hopefully it's perfect lol. (Probably not.) FYI we know the rest of A Lover's Alibi hasn't been posted, although it's done. We just haven't gone through the long, arduous process of copying and pasting the logs yet. Enjoy high school!Gabriel/Elle instead? For real, it seems superficial now... but it goes places. Dark, crazy places.


Friday nights were usually when Gabriel went to the movies. And like usual, he was going by himself. Not that he cared. The few times he'd been on dates girls, they always wanted to make out or hold hands or something, and he wanted to actually watch the movie he paid to see. Was that so much?

Apparently.

Scifi was his favorite genre, but as there wasn't any like that out right now, he settled on the newest action flick. He paid for his ticket and made his way to the concession stand to wait in the line to get himself popcorn and soda.

Elle squeezed Jeremy's hands as he let her order all the candy she wanted. They were out on their first date--her first date--and she couldn't have been more excited. They were seeing some action film Jeremy wanted to watch, and that was okay with Elle. She wouldn't have wanted to see some dumb romantic comedy, anyway. And he was buying all this stuff for her!

Sure, he hadn't shut up about the coming football game, and Elle was about to pull her hair out, but that was fine. She was on a date!

She'd picked out the prettiest dress for it, and Jeremy said she looked hot, so everything was going according to plan.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he realized who was standing in front of him, clinging to the arm of his favorite jock.

Fantastic.

"If it isn't everyone's favorite vapid couple," he said in a sardonic tone. For some reason, he felt the need to let Elle know of his presence.

Elle swung her head around at that familiar, grating, awful and maybe slightly melodic voice. If only he didn't use it to say such stupid things and ruin perfectly good nights.

She glared at him hard, and Jeremy glanced behind his shoulder too, and then laughed. "He's just a jealous loser; ignore him, Elle," he said flippantly.

Elle bristled a little at the taunt; she didn't like it when other people said it, no matter how many times she'd thought Gabriel was a loser. And she also didn't like taking orders. "Excuse you," she said snidely to Gabriel, "we're on a date." She held onto Jeremy's hand tighter. "Obviously, you're here all alone. How's that working for you?"

"I'm not jealous," he snapped defensively. Though his stomach did twist a little weirdly as he watched them. He wasn't sure why. He didn't like Elle. He didn't want to go out on dates and buy her candy and snuggle close to her while watching movies.

He didn't.

And yet his stomach tightened a little as he saw her grasp Jeremy's hand even tighter. "It's working just fine for me, at least this way, no one will be distracting me from the movie. I'm sure it'll be hard to see anything with his tongue down your throat the whole time."

Elle almost gagged at the thought, and Jeremy turned around completely with her candy, laughing. "Don't kid yourself, dweeb," he guffawed, and wrapped an arm around Elle. "I see the way you look at her in the cafeteria. Shoo."

Elle flushed, a little startled. Wait--Gabriel looked at her like what in the cafeteria? But she recovered, and smiled nastily at Gabriel. It didn't matter, because she didn't care. She was with Jeremy. "Come on, Jeremy," she said. "If you want to distract me from the movie, that's okay." She looked at Gabriel with a pointed smile, and Jeremy pulled them away, looking back to Gabriel with a disgusting grin. He pointed at Elle discreetly and then made an obscene gesture, moving his fist and pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek in tandem.

Gabriel's hand clenched around his wallet as he glared at them walking away. He wasn't sure why Jeremy's gesture enraged him so much, but it did. Seriously, the guy was crude and a waste of space. What did Elle see in him?

He wasn't even that good looking, really.

He sighed and turned back to the register to order his popcorn and soda. He paid the cashier and made his way to the theater. He could only hope they weren't seeing the same movie.

Elle smiled happily as they finally got away from Gabriel, enjoying the weight of Jeremy's arm around her.

"That guy is a weirdo," Jeremy was saying, and for once, Elle was listening. "Creepy-ass weirdo. You know he stalked his last girlfriend? I hope he doesn't like you now, Elle, because he's fucked up. I wouldn't be surprised if he followed us here."

"Really?" Elle said curiously, glancing back, even though she couldn't see him anymore. "How does he look at me?" She slipped the question in. Out of curiosity.

"I don't know, like a creep," Jeremy shrugged, obviously uninterested in the conversation. They entered the theater. "Come on, let's sit near the back so I can distract you," he said with a lecherous smile.

Elle smiled tightly and giggled, even though suddenly she wished she hadn't said that. Why had she even said it in the first place? She tried not to admit to herself it was to make Gabriel feel like crap. Or jealous or something.

Gabriel made his way into the theater, inwardly groaning to himself as he noticed the two lovebirds sitting together near the back. Wonderful.

He walked briskly past them before settling down to sit in the the middle of the theater. He wasn't jealous of them. He wasn't. If Elle wanted to let some greasy disgusting jock get his paws all over her, that was her problem.

Elle looked up as Gabriel passed them, frowning as Jeremy held her her shoulders, rubbing her arms in a way she didn't really like. She watched as he sat somewhere in the middle, and felt the distinct wish that she was with him instead of Jeremy.

Gabriel wouldn't touch her all weird. He wouldn't touch her at all, because he didn't even like her. She'd rather be with Gabriel.

She settled back into Jeremy's arms anyway as the lights went down and the movie started, deciding to just watch it. She wasn't going to do anything that made her uncomfortable.

But it was only fifteen minutes in when Jeremy started kissing her neck.

Annoyed, she pushed her shoulder up and shoved him a little. "Stop," she whispered.

Jeremy heaved a big sigh, like she was the one being annoying. Elle bit her bottom lip hard, a little hurt and rejected and ashamed, and wrapped her arms around her midsection. That was mean. Then Jeremy leaned in and started to do it again.

She pushed him away a little harder, trying to contain her spark. Now she was getting kind of mad. "Stop," she said again.

"Oh c'mon," Jeremy hissed, turning her lips to her shoulder, "don't be a prude."

Elle flushed in indignation and tried to lurch away. "Stop," she repeated, her voice growing louder.

Gabriel couldn't resist the urge to look back at them occasionally. He justified the actions because he knew Jeremy could be a creep, and no one deserved to deal with that. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wished Elle was there with him instead.

Even if a small part of him did.

He was smart to do so though, because soon enough he noticed how Jeremy kept pushing himself on Elle, and how she definitely was not okay with the situation. Before he could even think he was up on his feet, stalking his way towards them. Sure, Jeremy was a football player, but Gabriel was at least as tall as him.

He tapped Jeremy on the shoulder, the rage on his face barely concealed. "I believe she told you to stop."

Jeremy snapped his head around towards Gabriel, and Elle took his distraction as an opportunity to push and pull out of his hard grasp, which had started to hurt. Her chest heaved and she looked up at Gabriel's wrathful expression; she had no idea why he even cared about Jeremy being a dick to her, but she was glad he did. Really glad. One, because it was starting to get really awful, and two, because Elle wouldn't have been able to zap hard enough to throw his big frame off without garnering attention, and especially without Jeremy noticing.

"Fuck off," Jeremy snapped at Gabriel. "This is none of your business."

"I'm sorry, but when you're forcing yourself on a woman in public, it becomes everyone's business," Gabriel snapped in a very matter of fact sort of voice. "I was taught to respect a lady's wishes, no matter what. Apparently, no one bothered to teach you such manners."

Which was a little ironic coming from the boy who had all but stalked his last girlfriend, but really, he had only followed her once or twice. She had made it sound a lot worse. And besides, forcing yourself on a woman? That was a million times worse.

"Now leave her alone, I won't ask nicely a second time."

Elle blinked up at Gabriel's angry visage, a bit enraptured by his firm, threatening tone. Even if the way he was saying it was so old-fashioned, it still made her stomach flip in an anxious sort of way she'd rather not identify.

Jeremy, much to her rage, thought it was funny. "Are you kidding?" he laughed. "Do you hear this guy, Elle?"

Her cheeks burned and she stood up; did he actually think what he'd been doing was okay? And furthermore, did he actually think she was going to agree with him? She reached for his jumbo coke, opened the lid, and poured all of it over the top of his head. "Lose my number, you jerk!" she snapped, and then stepped on his toes as she stomped past him, grabbing one of Gabriel's hands on the way and walking quick out of the dark theater.

Gabriel couldn't help but grin a little in victory as she dumped the soda over Jeremy's head. He told himself it was just because Jeremy was a jerk who couldn't respect women, and it was good to see him being taken down a peg for once.

But that didn't explain why his heart skipped a beat while Elle grabbed his hand, leading him outside of the theater and into the lobby.

Her heart was beating really loud, and she was still high off of adrenaline from telling off Jeremy, and Gabriel had helped her, and she was still holding his hand. She wasn't sure why that realization made her heart beat even faster, but it did. She stopped suddenly, impulsively, and spun around, throwing her arms around his neck with a shaky sigh.

Even if she didn't even like him, and he didn't like her, he deserved a thank you.

Which didn't explain why she was hugging him, but it did explain her breathy, "Thanks for that." She was just really grateful, she reasoned.

He gave out a surprised gasp as she threw her arms around him. She was hugging him. He was so not used to a girl hugging him, other than his mother, and she was hardly a girl.

His heart sped up a little, and he tried to convince himself that it had to do with coming out of that situation, and not anything to do with the way Elle's body was pressed against his. How nice she felt. How his arms seemed to move against his will, returning the embrace. After all, it made sense that she would want support after such an ordeal. Most girls would, he told himself.

"Of course," he whispered softly. "I couldn't just let him take advantage of you. What kind of man would I be if I did that?"

She sucked in a breath as his arms encircled her, his big hands warm over the fabric of her dress. Almost instinctively, she turned her nose into his soft, slightly scruffy neck, squeezing him closer, and realized with a rushing hot shudder at his words what a stupid idea it was to hug him.

For one crazy moment, she wanted him.

She pulled away with a start, blushing. "Not a man at all," she admitted, avoiding his eyes.

Without a second thought he brought his hand up to brush away some of her hair from her face, blushing and snatching his hand away once he realized what he was doing.

For a second there, it was almost like they actually liked one another. But that's not what this was about. He had saved her because it was the right thing to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Her breath stuttered at his feathering touch, and she snapped her eyes to his, the apples of her cheeks growing even pinker. Make that two crazy moments. "No, I'm okay," she said, feeling like she'd just run a mile, and breathing a bit like it too. She looked at her shoulder, bringing a hand up to squeeze it experimentally and winced. "He was just holding my shoulder too tight." But it wasn't bruised or anything. "And, you know, being a jackass."

"Why did you go out with that scumbag?" he couldn't help but ask. He couldn't suppress the urge to touch her shoulder, to make sure she was okay with his own hands. "You can do better than that, you know that, don't you?"

He was only being nice to her because she had just been attacked, or that's what he told himself anyways. It had nothing to do with the twisting in his stomach or the fluttering of his heart or the way he really sort of wanted to kiss her right now.

She flushed all over at his hand and his words, and inched closer without thinking, sucking in long, shallow, evened breaths. She felt like she was burning, and it was weird and exciting and she didn't quite understand it.

She thought about before, about how she wished she was with Gabriel because he wouldn't touch her, but she... she really wanted him to touch her, actually.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time?" she answered weakly, unable to look away from his eyes, his face, and trying not to look at his lips as he spoke. They were so... sensual, and looked soft, and it was a ridiculous, embarrassing thought she didn't know why she was having.

"You should learn to be more careful, more selective with who you go out with," he warned her softly, taking a step closer to her now. "I might not be there to save you next time."

She looked so pretty, so soft. He'd be lying if he said the idea had never crossed his mind, what it would be like to kiss her but with the way they usually bickered, the thought had never lingered.

But they weren't bickering now. Before he could talk himself out of it he found himself cupping her chin, tilting her head up before leaning down to kiss her.

She nodded in agreement at his advice, and felt a flash of heat as he cupped her chin and leaned in. She let out a soft, wanting hum and parted her lips, letting her lashes kiss her cheeks.

She gave in. She wanted his kiss so badly she could feel it down to her toes. Her entire being was vibrating with anticipation, and she lifted her hands to rest against his chest. She momentarily forgot how much she was supposed to dislike him.

"Is this some kind of dumb joke?" a voice cut through the moment, startling her. Her eyes snapped open and collided with Jeremy's. His hair was all wet and sticky, his shirt partially soaked through. "You're all over me all week, you turn out to be a fucking cocktease, and now you're slobbering all over the freak?"

Gabriel snapped out of his trance, the moment ruined now. He pulled away from Elle with a slight growl. He didn't know what he was more annoyed about, the way Jeremy was talking to Elle, or the fact that he had interrupted them.

Okay, so he probably shouldn't kiss someone he claimed to hate anyways, but oh well. He didn't have time to think about that.

Instead he flashed Jeremy a malicious smirk. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe she was using you to get my attention?" he sneered. He had no idea the validity of his statement, but it seemed like the best way to attack the other boy's ego.

She glared at Jeremy, but then snapped her attention back to Gabriel, offended. "I wasn't trying to get your attention!" she protested. Even though maybe she had been. A little. But that was pathetic and stupid and she vowed never to do it again now that she knew what she was doing, so this time didn't count.

Jeremy sneered a smile. "See? She wanted me."

Elle paled. That wasn't true either, and her fists clenched. Think, Elle, think, she ordered herself. "I did not! You were just--I was just--shut up! I was using you to be popular!" Normal or whatever.

Even though he hadn't expected her to agree with his statement, the way she protested stung him a little for some reason. More than he'd like to admit, honestly.

He fell silent, deciding now wasn't the time to point out that making an enemy out of Jeremy pretty much guaranteed that she was going to be shunned by all her new "friends." He'd wait until the jackass was gone to tell her that one.

Jeremy narrowed his eyes. "Of course you were," he said nastily. "What was your plan? Sleep your way through the football team, you stupid slut?"

Elle saw red, and her fingers almost crackled with electricity. She wanted to burn him. "I'll kill you," she hissed, "you disgusting piece of shit. I wouldn't fuck you with a ten-foot pole," she said sarcastically, acidly, taking a menacing step forward. "I don't want to be popular anymore if it means looking at your ugly face!"

She ignored the part where Gabriel had warned her about all this.

Gabriel couldn't help but grin triumphantly. He knew it wasn't the right time to chime in, and yet he found himself doing so anyways. "See, you could have avoided this whole mess if you had just listened to me."

He wondered briefly how different things would have been if Elle had listened to him. If maybe he would have been the one taking her out on a date, but then he shook the idea from his mind.

"Shut up!" she warned him, whipping her head towards him and then back to Jeremy, too mad to be articulate.

"You'll regret this," he hissed, sneering one final time at Gabriel before leaving.

The tenseness in her shoulders unraveled a little, and now she was just huffing and puffing from frustration and anger.

"You better watch out. All the guys are going to harass you once he spreads the word that you're easy, which he will," Gabriel said in a know it all tone. Whatever tenderness had been between them a moment or two before seemed to be gone now.

Stupid Jeremy.

She snapped her gaze to him angrily, and then pressed her lips together, because unlike a lot of things he'd said previously, she had no trouble believing him this time. The truth had been too plain in Jeremy's parting words. This was just... great, she thought bitterly, holding back indignant tears. She came here to be normal, and now she was. She wasn't cool or popular and the only person that wasn't a complete jackass to her was a jackass. A jackass she'd wanted to kiss like a some stupid idiot just moments ago.

"Thanks," she said, her voice shaking, "I hadn't figured that one out myself."

His expression softened at the sight of her tear-filled eyes, just a little bit. He resisted giving her another sharp remark, but simply said what he hoped to be comforting words.

"Don't cry, they don't deserve your tears."

She bit down hard on her trembling lip, and swiping at her cheek, paranoid that the tears had already fell. "That's easy for you to say," she choked out. "You like being alone." She didn't know why he was still being nice to her.

"I like it better than hanging out with fake people like that, yes, but that doesn't mean I never get lonely," he bit back, regretting the words as soon as he said them. For some reason, the last thing he wanted her to know was that he had any kind of weakness.

His admittance surprised her, and she blinked at him for a moment, swallowing back her tears. For obvious reasons, she'd just seen him as some unfeeling asshole that couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be lonely. Not like she did. She thought about how he'd sat all alone in the cafeteria all week, and wanted to kick herself.

The doctors were right, and that was a truth she'd never admit out loud. She was missing something. She was missing what connected her to everyone else. Maybe he was missing it too.

She looked at the ground, feeling humbled. "Will you take me home?" she asked quietly, wringing her fingers. She could walk herself, but they weren't in the best neighborhood. And she could take care of herself, but... she had to pretend to be defenseless.

And she didn't want to be alone.

He hesitated for a moment, but it made sense that after everything that happened tonight, she wouldn't want to be alone right now. He supposed he couldn't hold it against her.

And he sort of liked the idea of having more time with her. Why that was, he wasn't sure.

He nodded finally. "Yes."

"Thanks," she murmured, gazing at him for a moment before turning to walk out the door. So, he was mean, and thought he knew everything, and thought he was better than everyone, and he had horrible taste in girlfriends, but maybe he was decent. He'd told Jeremy off, and he was walking her home. She tried to shrug off the almost-kiss. It was just a weird fluke that happened at an intense moment. She crossed her arms over her chest against the cool breeze, shivering from the memory.

As he watched her shiver he found himself pulling off his jacket before draping it across her shoulders. It was just proper manners, that's all. It had nothing to do with liking her or the fact that for a brief moment he had wanted to kiss her. Nothing to do with that.

And he certainly wasn't beginning to feel some bizarre compulsion to protect her. Like it was okay for him to mess with her, but not other people and things.

Never.

She looked over to him in surprise as the warmth of his jacket fell over her shoulders. After a stunned moment she pulled it tight around her, slipping her arms through the long, too-big sleeves. That was nice of him, she guessed. It didn't mean anything. She wasn't discreetly smelling the scent of him on the fabric or anything, and it didn't smell particularly nice. Just regular nice. "Thanks," she muttered again, blushing for no reason at all.

"I was always taught to offer my jacket to a girl if she was cold," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders, as if trying to make sure she knew it was just good manners. Because it didn't mean anything. She was annoying, and shallow, and naive. He didn't like her.

Her stomach dropped in that odd way again, and she glanced over to him for a second too long. "Yeah," she whispered. It wasn't special or anything. Suddenly she felt stupid for blushing, even though she knew it didn't mean anything from the beginning. It was just a stupid jacket. A piece of fabric. He didn't like her and she didn't like him.

He felt a little uncomfortable suddenly, and he wasn't sure why. So he decided to change the subject. "Where do you live?" he asked, realizing he didn't know what direction to head in.

"A bunch of blocks up," she said vaguely after a moment. "On Tudor," she told him. Obviously, not in a bad part of Queens, with her Daddy's Midas touch and all.

"So your family has money then," he said in a matter of fact tone. After all, she lived in a much nicer part of town than he and his mother did. It's not like his father had left them with much. And even though he had reopened the shop during the afternoons and weekends for extra cash flow, it wasn't that helpful.

He didn't say any of that though. He didn't talk about his home life to people.

"It's just me and my dad," she told him, and the Company. She'd killed her grandma, and her mom had died years ago. But obviously she said none of that. She didn't like talking about her home life, either. "He works for the government." She could have lied, she guessed, and told him like she told everyone her Daddy was a big banker in Manhattan, but she didn't, for no reason really. "What about your parents?" she asked, just to be polite. She knew his mom was creepy, but that was it.

"Just me and my mother," he replied simply. He never really told anyone that his father left them, but instead just led people to believe he died or something like that. It was just easier that way. "We live on the other side of town." The poorer side of town.

Even their financial background was different. There really was almost nothing they had in common. Why did that disappoint him a little?

"Oh," she replied. He was going out of his way. Elle wrapped her arms about herself, pulling his jacket further around her with a little sigh. That meant he lived far away from her. Not that it mattered where he lived, especially in relation to her. It wasn't as if she wanted to be close to him. In any way. She shook her head slightly, trying not to remember how his breath felt against her lips.

It was just because she wanted to be kissed. It didn't even matter who it was. Except if it was Jeremy.

"What about your dad?" she asked, trying to distract herself.

"He left a few years ago," he muttered softly, suddenly walking a little more stiffly. He didn't even know why he was telling her that. He never told anyone about that. Why did it matter if she knew the truth? "He left for cigarettes and never came back. Oldest cliche in the book."

She watched out of the corner of her eyes as he tensed; it was only then Elle realized she was ridiculously hyper-aware of every little movement he was making. That was just... why? She looked resolutely forward and tried to relax herself, focusing in on his words. But that didn't help; he sounded so... sad and bitter underneath a layer of transparent toughness. She found herself focusing on every inflection. What was wrong with her? He wasn't even interesting.

"My mom died in a plane crash," she blurted out, and once it was out of her mouth, she kept talking, despite her surprise. There wasn't any reason to reach out to him, to confide in him. Maybe she just wanted to be even. "When I was twelve. She never came back either." And Elle couldn't stand planes ever since.

He blinked a little in surprise at her confession. Despite having just confined in her, he had not expected her to return the gesture so easily, if at all. He nodded a little. He wondered which was worse. At least with death, the parent wasn't leaving you willingly.

Unless it was suicide.

"Guess you're not just a spoiled little rich girl like I thought." It wasn't really the right thing to say, but he didn't want to offer awkward sympathy. That tended to suck.

"Why do you have to do that?" she snapped. "Why do you have to ruin it by saying something like that? You don't even know me." She just told him something she hadn't ever told anyone, and he was being a jerk about it.

She wasn't spoiled. So maybe Daddy bought her whatever she wanted, but she knew it was only to shut her up, not make her happy. And he'd only let her go to high school because she promised to train and become the best agent the Company ever had. She was constantly trying to prove herself, and it was never enough.

She didn't need to justify anything to Gabriel. So she wasn't sure why his words stung so much.

"I was trying to admit I was wrong about you," he snapped defensively. "Okay?"

So maybe he could have phrased it better, but he wasn't good at this sort of stuff. But she was right. He didn't really know anything about her, and it was wrong from him to have jumped to all these conclusions about her before getting to know her.

Not that he wanted to get to know her. Even if they had both just shared some really personal information.

Her anger deflated a little, but underneath it was hurt that instigated stubbornness. She held her chest tight and walked a little faster past him, her heels clicking against the concrete.

She couldn't believe he'd thought that about her. It was rude and it was unfair and she'd done the same thing to him.

"Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel--" She paused. Feel what? How did she wanted Gabriel to make her feel? "--whatever," she grumbled.

He sighed in frustration, taking long, brisk strides to catch up with her. Here she asked him to walk her home, he assumed to keep her safe, and now she was walking away from in a huff. She made no sense to him. Maybe she never would.

"No matter what I said, it would of sucked. There are no good responses when you tell people information like that. But at least I was trying to be honest about my misjudgment. How is that bad?"

His social skills were lacking quite a bit.

She stopped, spinning around on him, her fists clenched at her sides. "I told you how my mom died and then you said you thought I was a spoiled rich little girl!" she said incredulously, angrily, impatiently. How thick was he? She wasn't asking for sympathy or even pity, but something that wasn't an insult would have sufficed.

"I told you that I was wrong about that thought. You're not a spoiled little rich girl. If I've learned anything tonight, it's that maybe I was wrong about you. And yeah, it sucks that your mom died, that goes without saying, I didn't know what to say, okay? I've ever told anyone about my dad before, I wasn't expecting to get that kind of information back."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Why did it matter that he made himself clear to her? It shouldn't matter. She just thought of him as an asshole anyways.

She pressed her lips together and gazed up at him through his speech, finally finding the presence of mind to look away. Her eyes found the ground between them and she readjusted her arms. Why did he have to explain it? Now she just felt weird. Because she understood now. And because knowing he'd only ever told her made her feel special.

"Maybe--" She took in a deep breath. "Maybe I was wrong about you too," she said thickly. "And I've never told anyone about my mom either," she said softly, awkwardly.

He felt a little awkward again suddenly. So they had both shared information with one another that they had never told anyone else before. That clearly meant something, but what did it mean?

He had no idea.

"So I guess we're even," he said finally. "Sort of."

"Okay," she agreed, staring at his chest. This entire situation was unsettling. The silence was too strange, and it didn't feel right talking to him civilly. They were supposed to hate each other, but Elle didn't feel like she hated him anymore.

She felt like she really needed to hate him.

He fell silent as they walked alongside one another toward where she lived. He really had no idea what to say at this point. He was supposed to hate her. It would be easier if he just hated her.

By the time they were closing in on Elle's block, she still couldn't find anything to say. She usually talked when she was nervous, but the darkness and the quiet padding of their footsteps sounded loud enough. Her thoughts certainly did, too.

She'd really... liked Gabriel at first, didn't she? At least, she'd thought he was cute, or... She stifled a sound of frustration and peeked over to him. She was so confused.

He walked quietly alongside of her, wondering idly how close they were now. He tended to be quiet by default. He didn't talk much, really, and when he did, it just seemed to make things worse. And he didn't want her to hate him even more.

After all, she was pretty. And despite her trying to be normal, there was something different about her. Special. He couldn't place what it was though.

She'd just gotten so mad at him that first day, and then she met Jeremy (she gagged a little) and--she didn't know. It was stupid. She didn't know why she was still thinking about this, or Gabriel. He wasn't even her friend.

She held her breath for a thoughtful second. Was he her friend? They told each other secrets. But she didn't want to call Gabriel her friend; it seemed so--incomplete.

Obviously, that was just because she disliked him. Every time he opened his mouth she wanted to shut him up. How could she be friends with someone like that? Even if he was the only person who acted like her friend. Sometimes. When he wasn't insulting her.

With a sigh of relief they turned onto her block, and Elle tried to tell herself it was because she was happy to just have an excuse to not see him all weekend. Not because she was just confused and his quiet presence was disconcerting her, and they were alone, and her thoughts kept circling back to how his hand felt cradling her chin up and she needed to just stop thinking, period.

He couldn't help but feel sort of relieved by the time they finally arrived at her home. He wasn't even sure why he had agreed to walk her home, he should have just gotten her a cab or something. It wasn't like they were friends, or even friendly acquaintances.

She had made it clear from the beginning that she was just like everyone else, making assumptions about him before even bothering to get to know him at all. It normally didn't bother him when people did that. People were idiots, everyone judged a book by its cover.

But for a moment there, when they first met, he thought he had felt a connection. He supposed he was wrong. Why did it bother him so much?

He stopped at her door, finally speaking.

"We're here."

"Yeah," she said offhandedly and stopped to face him, fishing her keys out of her bag and looking up at him, her eyes darting to his face and back uncomfortably. "Thanks for uhm, everything," she said.

Now that it was time to say goodbye, she didn't really want to go up to her big room and do nothing.

"It's fine." He shrugged a little offhandedly. As they were standing there at the door, there was that urge again, that urge to cup her chin and finish what they had almost done earlier.

Why he wanted to kiss someone who hated him, he wasn't sure.

She blushed and looked down (thank god it was dark), as if she could hear his thoughts. She could hear them, but only because they were hers, too. "I'll see you Monday?"

He reached his hand up for a moment, but then dropped his hand to his side, thinking better of it. Maybe it was a sign that Jeremy had interrupted them earlier. For the best. He nodded his head a little numbly. "I'll see you Monday."

She breathed in an anticipatory puff of air as his hand lifted, aching a little in faint disappointment as his arm dropped suddenly from its course. It was just exciting, she tried to rationalize, being touched, kissed. That was the only reason her cheeks were pink under the cover of dark and her heart had sped up a little.

"Okay," she whispered, and hesitated for only a second before walking up the concrete steps and sticking the key in the door. Her hands were shaking a little as the lock gave, but it was only because it was cold. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her and then leaning against it heavily.

As soon as the door shut he felt something drop in his stomach. Disappointment? In what? Himself? He knew it was best that he didn't kiss her, it would only end badly. They couldn't get along for more than five minutes, if that wasn't a sign that they were incompatible, he didn't know what was.

Still, as he walked away, heading toward the subway station, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if they had finished that kiss earlier. He supposed he would never know now.

Elle thought being away from him would make the weirdness she was feeling go away, but it didn't. She relaxed her shoulders and brought a hand up to push back her hair, freezing when the soft fabric of Gabriel's sleeve swept over her flushed cheek.

She still had his jacket. She turned a little, about to open the door and give it back, but instead she resolutely headed towards the stairs, jogging up them and going straight to her room. Daddy was still working, like he always was.

She carefully took Gabriel's jacket off, laying it out on her bed. It was dark and masculine against her pink satin sheets, but she didn't dwell on the fact. She readied for bed like a good girl, walking past it plenty of times as she brushed her hair, washed her face, and changed into her favorite cotton nightgown. It was only after she snuggled under the covers that she was distinctly aware of it at the foot of her bed in the dark.

It only took a few minutes for her to sit up and reach for it, pulling it on fast, as if doing it quickly would make it less silly. She was just... cold still, and she pushed the blankets up to her neck and curled into a ball. It just so happened that her arm was at such an angle that her nose was pressed up against the sleeve, and she could smell his musky, clean scent with every inhale. It was nice. He smelled so nice.

It's not like anyone would know. And it wasn't like she'd ever admit to it, she thought, drifting off to sleep. It would be like her own special secret.