Gabriel’s never belonged anywhere.

Unwanted child and nomadic adult, he’s tied to the wind as eagles are. Settling, growing stagnant, assimilating, relaxing. He can’t. It’s a death sentence - experience has made sure he’s learned that lesson. The upper hand advantage lies not in four solid stone walls, but in the freedom of flight. With nothing to lose and nothing to prove, it’s easier to give chase to whatever newest thing decides to hunt him.

But catching sight of the blonde floating through the crowd, her golden hair haloed in the firelight - Gabriel thinks he could belong wherever she is.

He’s never seen anything like her. The unfortunate remainder of impeccably gowned women might as well have been cement statues.

She moves like a liquid moonbeam. Some long forgotten celestial deity of a tier low enough to consider walking amongst mortals for the thrill of it. Shadows seem to ricochet right off her being. Like a magnet, she pulls the stare of every fairy she passes. Gabriel is no exception. He’s staring, unblinking and breathless as she flits to and fro, glued to her every move.

Except unlike the rest of the drunk rabble, happy to return to their libations, he continues to track her. Once she’s out of sight, he raises to tiptoe, ducking his head into the spaces between merrymakers to try to pick up her trail again.

He murmurs a quick farewell to the few other healers in his party and slips away from the fireside in pursuit. Luckily his height makes the crowd part for him on the first try when he nudges a few shoulders blocking the path.

She’s heading straight to the buffet table lined with cheerfully winking flutes of bubbly stuff. He’s avoided it so far, not caring for the syrupy taste. He prefers the plainer, less exciting beverages. But if it means an introduction with her, he’ll suck down a gallon full and be grateful.

In a lunge that would have been a bit more desperate if it wasn’t for his long limbs, he stretches for a glass to pass her. It ends up being the same glass she’d singled out and by the time he’s straighted himself at her elbow, their hands have collided.

He’s about to apologize, the regret for botching the moment already on the tip of his tongue, but something zings along his fingertips and he freezes. Shuttering to a halt, he can no more than stare owlish down at her, mouth gaping. From the expression on her face, she’s felt it to and if he’s correct, just as surprised as he.

It’s some kind of physical magic, the sensation too strong and tangible to be an overly romanticized notion or imaginary spark. It’s powerful enough to wind all the way up to the steel plate armor of his shoulder, an uncomfortable zing to the fade of it like the pins and needles of a limb falling asleep.

“Oh wow,” he murmurs.

It’s partly due to the odd fleeting magic. But mostly it’s because he’s gotten a full view of her face for the first time.

“I’ll find another.”

“Oh I sincerely hope you don’t,” he replies, holding the glass out insistently. He wiggles it once, twice at her. The grin he gifts her is soft and beautifully shy.

He plucks another glass for himself and offers her a salute of solidarity before taking a sip. He’s excruciatingly aware of how close they’re standing, but he can’t bring himself to do anything but sway, spellcast, into her space. If anything, it serves to tilt her head further back to maintain eye contact. He’s close enough to catch the lingering tickle of her perfume off her hair.

To Gabriel’s delight, she intigates a harmless flirtation and he grins at her again from over the rim of his glass.

“Not near as often as I’d hoped, to be honest,” he chuckles. “Here I am, the only one with all this meteorology insight and nobody to share it with.”

He taps at her earrings, setting them to dancing and sparkling, knuckles large and cumbersome enough to just brush her cheek as he withdraws.

“How often do people ask you about falling from heaven?”

It’s not so much a lack of game preventing him from openly flirting, but rather a lack of opportunity. Gabriel has never asked for anything he actually wanted; living without or surrendering to others with stronger drives and stronger aggressions is easier. Safer. He’s very good at being less.

But he finds himself fancying, as she tilts her head enough for him to catalog the surprising color of her eyes in the dim light, that now is as good a time as any to get started.

Before he can scrape together something else witty and enticing to say, a shorter man in what can only be described as Fancy Lumberjack attire swoops in to the table and catches the moon maiden familiarly around the waist.

“There you are, you gorgeous goddess!” the man (who is extraordinarily handsome, Gabriel is miffed to discover) laughs. His face is glowing with the alcohol in his bloodstream and cutting the chiseled angles of his face dangerously sharp in the orange fire glow. “I was wondering when you’d venture down here to mingle with the commoners. Fucking Mallos, you look in-fucking-credible! Now I see why you took so long getting ready!”

In another touch suggesting their relationship is closer than Gabriel would have liked, the man takes up her hand to spin her dramatically for a thorough view of her gown. When he’s satisfied, he pulls her close to dip her backwards and lay a peppering of loud smooches on the long column of her neck. They laugh in the synchronized rhythm of two people with history.

Feeling like a treasure hunter who’s just been told his life-changing discovery was made of tin and 500 years previously claimed, Gabriel throws back the remainder of his drink and immediately goes for a second one.

“Alright well, I won’t hog your sexy ass all to myself,” finally says Annoyingly Goodlooking Guy. “There’s a suspiciously well-tailored foreign guy here who’s been shooting me weird looks all night and I gotta go check it out. But I’ll see you later, ok?”

At this point, the man’s gaze flicks upward and noticing Gabriel lurking awkwardly behind the pair of them, and Handsome Lumberjack shoots the taller man a dazzling smile, like he can’t believe how lucky he is to have a woman like this in his arms.

Gabriel’s reciprocating smile is forced and tight.

“Bye dollface.” The man kisses her soundly on the cheek and Gabriel looks away. “I’ll meet you upstairs later. Don’t take all the good pillows, the body pillow is mine.”

And Gabriel reasons, of course this shining beauty was going to be taken. He’s an absolute fool to think otherwise. There’s no world in existence where she wouldn’t have been snatched up as soon as she set foot outside her door. He’s just the last one to the door. And it’s bolted shut and surrounded by a moat full of alligators.

He fiddles with the rim of his empty glass, tongueing at the inside of his cheek as the handsome guy saunters away. It’s going to take a miracle to recover his pride and a huge feat alone to come up with something smooth to say to fill the gaping silence threatening to swallow them whole.

What he cannot see is the Handsome Lumberjack spinning on his heel to gesture excitedly at Gabriel’s hunched back, mouthing oh my gods, who is THIS?? Get some, girl! at the woman in silver before flashing a double thumbs up and a very rude gesture that suggests a sexual activity before turning around and skipping off for good.

What he can see is the object of his affection this evening peering fondly at the retreating man’s form, her gaze too soft and adoring for him not to translate.

“Um,” he fumbles, aiming for graciousness. “Your boyfriend seems like a... lively guy. Seems like he’s having a good time tonight. Um. Are you?”