It was late as you wandered through the halls of the X-mansion, you couldn't sleep, so you made your way to the living room.

Gambit sat on the sofa before you, a playing card between his fingers. He was mumbling something in French to himself—something you couldn't understand.

As you walked closer to the sofa, he noticed you.

"Petite?" he whispered, Gambit always had a soft spot for you, his rough exterior melted away.

"What are you doing up so late?" He looked exhausted as he spoke.