A/N: There will be fluff and lovey goodness. I promise. I know it's hard because they will be separated, but it will happen. I need my Rumbelle fix too ;) This is my first fanfic on here, so please R&R! I would love feedback!
Belle has been waiting forever. She once promised forever in a different way, in a different context. Now, the days pass by, not uneventfully, but painfully. Belle tries to keep her head up, her wits sharp, and her countenance joyful in public, but when she recedes to the castle-like home, she can't contain the overflowing feeling of loneliness. It's been so long since Rumplestiltskin's been gone that the house no longer smells of him. And that pains her.
She's sitting in Granny's diner, relishing in the few minutes of freedom. Now that Rumplestiltskin has left her in charge of the town, she's a busy girl. Absentmindedly, she stirs her iced tea with the straw, watching the ice cubs clink against each other. Outside, the sun is just setting, leaving the sky looking like a canvas over which pink and purple watercolors have spilled.
"Belle?" Ruby slides into the booth across from her.
"Oh, hi!" Belle greets her friend, apathy crawling into her voice.
"You really need to get out some. You look like death!" Ruby remarks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.
"I appreciate it," Belle replies dryly. Sure, she's been a little careless with her appearance lately, but who had she to impress now? She focuses back on the ice cubes.
"Oh I didn't mean that," Ruby sighs. "Come out with me tonight. Granny's about to close up and I was going to head to the Rabbit Hole for a drink. Surely you can take an hour or two off tonight."
"I don't know, Ruby. Last time I was at the Rabbit Hole, I wasn't quite…myself," Belle says. She shivers. She has Lacey's memories, and she doesn't like them. They terrify her.
A realization dawns upon Ruby's face. "You're scared you'll become her."
Belle remains fixed on the ice cubes, which are now substantially smaller.
"Look," she sighs, "I'm just not really up to it tonight, ok?"
"Belle this is ridiculous. When is the last time you've gone out? You're solemn and dreary," Ruby pushes the iced tea away and grabs Belle's wrist. "I'm taking you out right now. Come on!"
And Ruby's grip is so tight that Belle acquiesces. Either that, or she's too tired to resist.
The bar is dark and mysterious. It's loud, but the low lighting makes it seem quieter. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol fills Belle's nostrils and she instinctively brings a hand up to her nose.
"Relax," Ruby laughs. She takes Belle to the bar and orders them two beers. Belle can see a couple men glancing in their direction and she turns away from their invasive looks. She hugs her arms closer to her and wishes she were at home. She begins to open her mouth to say something to Ruby, but stops when she realizes the red-head is sending seductive giggles and winks at the men.
"Hi," they've made their way over and crowd the two girls. Belle remains where she is, back turned towards them.
"Can we buy you some drinks?" one of them asks.
"Oh, no that's alright. We've got our own," Ruby replies, motioning towards the lonely beers on the counter.
"Surely you're going to have more than one?" another laughs.
"You can buy me those," Ruby smiles sweetly. She looks at Belle, who hasn't yet turned around.
"Who's your friend?" the third asks Ruby. Ruby gives Belle a look, and Belle reluctantly turns around, pursing her lips.
"Miss French," the man nearest to her flashes a toothy smile. Belle nods in his direction. She turns to tell Ruby that she's going to go home, but her friend has already left with one of the men and is nowhere to be seen, leaving Belle with the two remaining ones. They take a seat on either side of her.
"So are you Lacey or Belle?" the one on the right laughs. His friend smiles at the joke.
"I've always been Belle," she replies steadily. The situation has grown increasingly uncomfortable. She wishes Rumplestiltskin were here. Looking at these men makes her realize how much she misses him and his soft, gentle accent. These men- their voices are harsh and grating. They make her uneasy.
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
"Shame," the one on the left sighs. "Lacey was so much fun." The insinuation makes Belle's cheeks burn.
"I'm sure Lacey's still in there somewhere," he continues "Eh?" He pats Belle's cheek twice. She turns her head away and tries to stand up.
"Come on, Lacey. Where are you?" he stands up with her, an arm snaking around her waist, bringing her against him.
"Stop it," Belle snaps. Her hands move to push him away, but the man brings his face closer to hers, the stink of alcohol hot from his mouth. She wrinkles her nose in disgust and continues to struggle. She searches for the fighter inside her, but the fire has burned out and her arms go limp against his chest. She gives up. She knows she cannot win. She lets him laugh in her face. She lets him slide his other arm up and down her back. She lets his fingers trace circles on her hips.
And she lets him bring his mouth against hers.
Something dies within her when her lips meet his and she knows its defeat. She knows it's defeat because she doesn't break away and slap him. She knows it's defeat because she relishes in this carnal human contact.
He deepens the kiss and elicits a groan from her mouth. She feels his desire against her own body and the feeling jerks her into reality. She steps away quickly, holding her temples gingerly.
"Stop," she tells him, although it's directed more towards herself than anybody.
Without glancing back, Belle runs out of the bar, pushing past people and doesn't stop running until she's home. A relieved smile plays upon her lips when she closes the door behind her and takes in the familiar grandeur of Rumplestiltskin's house. The shadows make her feel safe. Being in his house makes her feel safe.
Her breathing is still labored and she makes herself a cup of tea with shaking hands. From a glass case, she takes a teacup and pours herself a warm dose. She brings the cup to her lips, careful to avoid the chip. The warmth calms her immediately and she sinks into the couch, closing her eyes and feeling the blood rush back down.
Tonight, more than ever, she feels the raw ache. Tonight, more than ever, she needs to reassure herself that he will return. Heart heavy, she walks upstairs to their bedroom. Their bedroom, although there is no sign of him anywhere. Belle sets the tea down and opens his closet. The closet is filled with his shirts, ties, and pants, all of impeccable style. She takes some of his untouched shirts down and sits on the floor, holding them to her nose and breathing in heavily.
It's a ritual she has developed. She does it in order to remind herself to be strong without him. When she assured him on the docks of seeing him again, it was her courage that spoke. Now, the courage dwindles. Now, her brain wanders to dangerous places, wondering and doubting of his return. His smell has almost faded, but Belle can still pick it up. She doesn't know whether its her imagination doing so or not.
Whatever it was, it comforts her to sit like this, shirts pressed against her face.
It makes him feel real again.