LUMINESCENCE
Shedding light on the relationship of Cogsworth and Lumiere.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Cogsworth still hadn't gotten used to the drumming sound of his face.
How much longer would this night last?
Ah, there it was! That distant glow, he knew it well. It burned like the love he held deep within his gears. It signaled the approach of the candelabra he loved, but could never have.
His pendulum stiffened.
Cogsworth composed himself. He would suffer a modicum of discomfort to keep his secret, well, secret. He had to. After all, they had slightly more pressing problems at hand.
But, oh sometimes there would be a look, a smirk and hope would glow within his cogs. Perhaps it was just French- but he felt, surely, it had to mean something more.
He inhaled to welcome his friend when a giggle sounded. High-pitched.
He was not alone.
That trollop. HUSSY. How dare she. That dirty, filthy- seriously she hadn't been cleaned in years- DUSTER.
Her feathers were all over him. Touching where he could not. And he couldn't help hating her for it.
"Mon ami! Cogsworth. Ah did not zee you zthere!" Lumiere swung that feather-wench round his illustrious golden base.
"Ah hope he was not watching! Hee hee," she laughed.
Cogsworth winced. He was hurt, so of course once again chose to hide his true emotions behind a crisp businesslike facade.
"I have no interest in whatever frivolous activities you two were pursuing," he said. "And, madame, shouldn't you be tending to the bedrooms?"
"Le but!" the Duster started.
"Mon chere, Cogsworth iz right!"
Tick tick tick! -Why did Cogsworth's face DO that when he was excited?
"Well!" said the Duster, moving off in a huff (and cloud of dirt, Cogsworth noted) down the hall.
Finally.
Cogsworth turned to his friend's waxy face.
Alone at last.
Lumiere smiled, and Cogsworth's gears whirred and buzzed. He wanted just one touch, but he knew he couldn't.
"Should we get to zee keetchen, my friend?" Lumiere said, hopping away before Cogsworth could answer.
Perhaps it was that GIRL who had come to the palace. All this talk about LOVE and TRANSFORMATION. There was a time in Cogsworth's life when he would have balked at the very idea- a clock and a candlestick- but this was France! And, perhaps, if love could make a man of a beast, it too was fate for Cogsworth to reveal his inner most self. Over a souffle, perhaps.
On a souffle even.
Cogsworth took a deep breath. He was getting overexcited. He ran after his friend, following the light that he dreamed of following always, if Lumiere would only allow it. He caught the candlestick just before he came to the kitchen.
"Lumiere- I- I- I was wondering-"
"Oui?"
"Iff... ah, had you, the dishes- how his majesty is doing."
Probably better than himself, Cogsworth thought.
Lumiere looked at him closely. "You seem off tonight, mah friend. What is zee matter?"
Here it was. A moment. Was it time for Cogsworth to reveal it all?
Well, he decided, he was a clock. He could decide what time it was.
Still, would Lumiere accept the proposal? Would he melt from the exertions? So many questions.
He began to panic.
"N-n-nothing," Cogsworth stuttered.
"Ah, well if zat is the case."
Lumiere leaned in for a European fare-the-well.
One cheek, the other- his pursed lips heading back to the cheek from whence they started when Cogsworth turned his face.
TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK.
To his surprise, Lumiere did not pull away in disgust. His flames burned bright and hot.
ECSTASY.
That was the one word which summed up this second, this instant. They created such a moment of beauty. Or beast. Cogsworth knew not.
Lumiere pulled away. Those heavy-lidded bedroom eyes gazing at Cogsworth.
"Zut alors," whatever that french phrase was, he said, breathlessly. Cogsworth presumed it meant "thank god yes" or similar. That was certainly what he was thinking, though the English had a few more choice phrases!
"Ah meesed!" finished Lumiere with a quick peck on the other cheek.
He smiled sweetly at Cogsworth and turned to go into the kitchen. Cogsworth remained in a daze- his gears turning in pure bliss.
Tick tock, tick tock they sounded, but softly this time.
Funny, he mused, how for a clock such an instant could seem longer than an entire lifetime. And how, of all things, love could transform so many in one castle.
There was a crash in the kitchen. Cogsworth stopped humming and swinging back and forth.
"Mrs. Potts, that whore. Oh no she BEST not."
He sighed.
Better get back to work.
THE END.