"You think I didn't notice?" Solo's words echoed through the room. Illya turned his attention to him from the file he's reading - another mission.
"You're having a soft spot for her." The American spy continued.
Something stirred in the pit of his stomach, Gaby flashed through his head. He turned stiffer than how stiff he normally was, looking back to the file. "Who?"
Solo laughed as if he said something funny. Then he crossed his legs in a very sophisticated manner like how he carried himself, placing his hands on his thighs, adding to the charisma he exuded. His eyes fixed at him. Illya avoided his gaze. "I think we both know who I am talking about."
Illya felt his throat tightened. He kept his mouth shut. They stayed silent but he couldn't stand it. Solo's sudden quietness was too loud for him to bear. He could practically read his mind across the room, taunting him to blurt how he felt for Gaby.
Gaby. Damn, just thinking about her turned his insides upside down, made his heart flutter in a different way. No, it never beat this way before, ever. And most times, he wanted to keep her close to him, to protect her at all cost, making sure she's safe. He felt a rising fear whenever she's out of his sight.
Damn, maybe he's in love - but how do you know if you're in love?
"Look, here comes Gaby."
Illya felt his breath hitched, his body felt a jolt making him weak in an instant just by the mention of her name. He lifted his head from the folder he's holding to look at her, only to see no one but Solo, who's suppressing a snicker.
He clenched his jaw and balled his hand into fist. Sometimes, his knuckles were so tempted to know how Solo's face would feel against them.
But looking at this moron, he never had anyone he could call a friend. Yes, being with him could sometimes be, or most of the time, unbearable, excruciatingly insufferable. Yet, predominantly, they got each other's back, saving the other's ass from danger. And he knew, Gaby needed them too.
Gaby. Maybe she had become too important in his life. He mainly didn't do attachments. Avoided it at all costs, for the kind of job he had. And, not to mention, to where she's now involved.
He threw Solo a glare. “What are you trying to do, Solo?”
Solo just shrugged. “Well, I thought I saw Gaby.”
He despised his cocky face so much.
The American spy regarded him for a moment. “I think you two must take this mission together.”
“I can do the mission alone.” And if he’d be honest, he didn’t want to put Gaby in danger, and would, happily, do her mission for her safety. If only he could, without getting anyone, especially, Waverly, who called them for this mission, suspicious.
“Unless, you want to keep Gaby safe and do her mission as well.”
He also hated how this American spy could read his mind. Sometimes. Not most of the time.
“I heard my name,” Gaby said, appearing from the entrance. Illya fidgeted in his place, searching for something to do with his hands. He just pretended reading the file even though he had been scanning his eyes through it since last night. He cleared his throat. He could imagine Napoleon having fun watching him. He clenched his fist tighter.
“I think Peril here wants to tell you something.”
He really wanted to strangle him sometimes.
“What?” Now she’s standing before him, arms crossed.
“I… Would you like to... drink?” he said, haltingly.
“I forgot I got some errands to do.” Solo then stood, excusing himself and made his way out. But Illya knew that he intended to do it. He thought having Solo gone would help him breathe but being alone with Gaby wasn’t helping either. Instead, he could feel the walls closing in on him.
He heard her scoff. “And here I thought the man doesn’t like to drink.”
“I only ask you to drink. But I’m not drinking.”
“Seriously?” Gaby paused and looked at him. “No. The man who asked to drink must drink also. That’s the golden rule.” And she made her way to the pantry. “And yes, let's have a drink.”
Illya sighed in defeat and followed after her.
“No.”
Gaby stopped, holding a bottle of Vodka in hand and a glass in the other. “Don’t tell me, you’ll leave me drinking all this alone again just like the last time.”
He couldn’t believe she wasn’t over it yet. “No. That’s not what I want to tell.”
Her shoulders relaxed, her hands bringing the bottle and the glass on the counter.
He looked at her for a while. “I can’t let you do this mission.”
“What?”
“It’s too dangerous for you.” I almost lost you the last time.
“I will take this mission, Illya.”
“No.”
“Trust me. At least a little. I’m not… We’re not here to act engaged. I’m not your fiance anymore. So stop acting like you must protect me. I can handle myself pretty well.”
He trusted her. Trusted her skills. And he believed she could do this job, heck, she could wrestle him. But it’s the fear of losing her, why he didn’t want her to take this mission.
“Waverly trusted me to do this. So I’m also hoping you can trust me…” She took a sharp breath, a huff. “I’m expecting you of all people to trust me the most, Illya.”
No. He wanted to say for the last time.
“Answer me, Illya.” He looked at her. “Do you trust me?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He could only blame himself if something bad happened to her. The foreboding fear was too strong for him to bear.
With another sigh, Gaby stared at him and walked out of the room. And he could only watch.
And the name Solo gave him… Peril… made so much sense in that moment, as he thought that maybe he’s turning soft towards her and maybe that's what falling in love is.
*****
A/N: My very first The Man From U.N.C.L.E. story. Idek whether to call this a oneshot or a drabble. Sorry. I know it’s pretty simple and short, as I only got the drive/motivation to write this idea after watching the movie. And I, instantly, fell in love with Gaby and Illya’s relationship.♥
