Chapter Text
“There you are!”
Nathaniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he reminded himself for the millionth time tonight that his parents would not be happy if he threw Chloé out of his party. His mother worked at City Hall and he knew that she could get some serious back lash from Mayor Bourgeois if the blonde girl was the only one of his classmates ejected from something hosted at her house.
All he’d wanted was to have his friends from school over to have a holiday party. His parents had always been a little overprotective, so he’d never had a party at his time of year before. They hadn’t even let him got to Adrien’s Réveillon dinner last year because it had been so last minute and they’d worried about what might happen if they weren’t prepared.
So to be suddenly told by his mother that he could have a party as long as he invited everyone in his class had been liberating. He couldn’t mess up this chance or he’d never be given another one, and hopefully next time he would be allowed to chose the guest list a bit more freely. Maybe he’d only invite guys officially next time and let the girls come on the condition no one said anything to Chloé or Sabrina. His mother couldn’t be faulted that Chloé hadn’t been asked to come to a guys only party, could she?
He faced the girl approaching him. “What do you want now Chloé?” he snapped at her, despite his internal reminders to be civil. Honestly, he was exasperated with her. She’d been following him around all night. Demanding a better quality of hors d'oeuvres, complaining about the music and putting down his artwork that he’d missed scattered about by his proud but strict parents.
“These glasses your parents provided; I want a larger one like everyone else got.”
He glanced down at the offered glass. For the party his parents had looked out a set of twelve large and fancy wine glasses they’d gotten as a wedding gift, engraved with their surname, “Kurtzberg.” They were hardly ever used and despite being a wedding gift they weren’t too attached to them, so they had been perfect for serving his friends drinks apparently. Nath thought his parents were a tad pretentious to be honest.
Regardless, the set only had twelve and so he’d given one to everyone else as they had arrived and settled for a smaller, plain wine glass himself. And then when the bratty blonde had shown up “fashionably late” (ie last) there had been no more fancy glasses to offer. He’d given her a plain one like himself.
She hadn’t said anything then; she probably hadn’t even noticed that there were fancy ones. But now that his parents were offering up alcohol – in a carefully restricted ‘two glasses only’ portion – it was bound to be noticed.
“Let me guess,” he said, “everyone else will get more wine than you and you’re pissed about it? Just stick with coke or something. Deal with it.”
She huffed at him, cocking her hip and crossing her arms, “Swap glasses with me,” she demanded.
“Okay,” he smirked, offering up a glass identical to her own. He couldn’t help feeling smug when she stomped a foot in annoyance.
“Why are we fighting over beverages!?!” she complained, “I want a bigger glass for my wine and I am not going to leave you alone until I get one.”
“Oh mon Dieu, what is your PROBLEM!?” he shouted at her, before immediately cringing at the sudden sound of his name being called.
“Nathaniel?” his mother asked with as stern tone as she approached, “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, mamam,” he told her, relaxing his tight posture, “I was…I was just going to get Chloé a different glass. Hers is smaller than everyone else’s.”
His mother regarded him with worried suspicion for a moment before nodding her head and turning to retreat to the next room where she and his father were serving the drinks.
Nath swivelled around to face a now smug looking Chloé. He was seriously starting to regret having this party at all. It didn’t seem fun any more.
“Fine,” he spat, “There’s bigger glasses in the kitchen.”
He turned on his heel and stormed away, determined to take as long as he possibly could finding her something suitable to drink from. As he pushed his way through the swing door to the kitchen though, he was surprised to hear her cry of pain as the door swung back and hit her. She had followed him. Great.
He took a deep breath and began searching the cupboard they kept the glasses in for something larger than the glass she was currently using. He felt a spike of annoyance when he realised what he needed was being stored on the highest shelf and he was just a touch too short to reach. He regarded the kitchen in search of something to stand on safely and came up empty.
“I’ll have to ask someone else to reach it for you,” he mumbled to Chloé, who had come to stand beside him. She was staring up at the glasses pensively, and as he turned to leave she spoke and her words caught him off guard.
“Lift me up and I’ll get it.”
Nathaniel shook his head, trying to clear what he assumed was an audio hallucination of some kind.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Chloé didn’t answer. Instead she reached out for him and in his shock, he moved towards her. She placed her arms around his neck tightly and Nathaniel positively boggled at her.
“Lift,” she demanded and surprising himself, he did. Placing his arms around her waist, he hoisted her petite weight until she was more level with the cupboard shelf they needed. She delicately unlaced one arm from his neck to grab two of the glasses by the stems and he brought her down to her feet again on autopilot.
He immediately let go of her waist despite his shock, but Chloé left her arm draped across his shoulder, her hand starting to pet at the nape of his neck. She placed the glasses on the counter next to them, a smug little smile playing about her lips as she returned her other hand to the back of his neck as well.
“I have absolutely no idea what’s happening here,” he told her, otherwise frozen, “I mean, I have no clue what this is supposed to be.” He heard her huff.
“I thought you were supposed to be smart, Red,” she said coyly, “I finally got your attention, that’s all.”
She reached down and grabbed his arms, hanging limply at his sides, and roughly pulled them back to her waist before replacing her own arms around his neck.
“I-I don’t understand.”
She pouted and somehow it seemed much more vulnerable to him than her usual entitled pouting when she just wanted to get her own way at something.
“I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with,” she admitted, “But I’ve tried being nice to you for weeks now and I tried so hard to compliment your party, and flirt, but you just weren’t…I don’t know, reacting? So I needed an excuse to get you alone.”
Nathaniel wondered if it was possible to casually have a stroke. He was still standing but he was pretty certain he was paralysed. That was a stroke symptom right? It seemed Chloé was saying she had been trying to be nice to him. And possibly, she was telling him that she liked him.
But seriously, in what reality was anything she’d done tonight nice!?!
“You insulted the food,” he said, confused. She actually had the audacity to look hurt by his comment.
“Actually, I said I could get the hotel chefs to do some fancier catering for you next time without it costing any more,” she said, her arms starting to slip from his neck.
“But…but the music-”
“I said it didn’t suit you. You don’t strike me as heavy bass and repetitive nonsense.”
“My drawings,” he said, voice becoming stern. His arms dropped from her waist as he remembered her saying his drawings shouldn’t have been left lying around for everyone to come across. It had felt cruel and he would have been hurt if he hadn’t built up a thick skin against her.
“I didn’t want any idiots spilling anything on them or smudging them, obviously. They should be stored somewhere safe. Or in frames.”
He was silent as he replayed the evening in his head with a new light. Chloé had never actually insulted him once; he’d only assumed her comments were meant to be biting. He didn’t know whether to be amazed by her behaviour or ashamed at his own.
She sighed deeply at his silence, bringing him out of his thoughts, and as he looked down into her eyes he realised they were wet with unshed tears. She looked away and to the side, avoiding his suddenly shocked expression.
Shit. Chloé was not the kind of girl who cried easily. She had faked crying a lot since he’d known her, but there had never been real tears involved before. This was serious.
“Look, clearly it was a bad idea to come to your party at all, never mind following you around to try to talk to you,” she bit her lip, “Apparently everything I s-say comes out wrong or you just hate me so much that you assume I mean something else. I-I’ll just go.”
As she moved for the doorway, he found himself panicking over her retreat. No matter what he’d thought of her previously, she had apparently been trying very hard to be nicer and she was clearly upset that he hadn’t noticed her efforts. He didn’t want her just sneaking out like that, in evident distress. He latched onto her arm to keep her from getting any further away and she turned back to look at him.
“I…” He had no idea what to say, “I, um, think you should stay. For the party.”
“Really?” she asked wiping her eyes.
“Uh, yeah. Then maybe we could…hang out sometime? Become actual friends maybe?”
“I’d like that,” she said and she smiled sweetly for once before it quickly transformed into something more predatory looking, “After all, the sooner we’re friends, the sooner I can convince you it’s not enough.”
He gulped and dropped his hand from her arm, reclining away from her as she leaned in towards him. She moved back again with a smirk, the two large glasses from the counter behind him now in her hand.
“Let’s go get our wine, Red,” she said heading for the swing door.
She held the door open as he finally shook off his paralysis and walked unsteadily towards her. She smiled widely in that smug way he was used to before she spoke.
“I am so glad I got daddy to ‘convince’ your maman you needed this party.”