"Bad form dearie."
Belle whirled around at the sound of his voice, nearly cracking the old violin in her hand against the music stand. She stumbled for words, her checks flushing.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"To get caught?" He chuckled as she ducked her head in embarrassment, her palms sweating around the object of her guilt.
Rumpelstiltskin swallowed back his amusement and waved off her embarrassment. "Never mind that, instruments are meant to be played." Belle peeked up at him surprised. She'd expected he would be angry that she'd touched the violin, but it had been so dusty and badly in need of a tuning.
"And my previous comment remains the same." Belle's eyebrows knitted together as he strode towards her. "Your form is terrible. Whoever taught you play?"
"My father, but it's been years since I last played. I'm out of practice."
Rumpelstiltskin eyed her thoughtfully. "Yes, that would explain it."
Unsure of what to do Belle held still as he tucked the violin back under her chin and coaxed her other hand holding the bow back up to the strings.
"I didn't know you played." She was grasping for something, anything to keep him talking and to keep her mind off of the feel of his hands. She flushed again, her heart fluttering at her own thoughts.
"Well, I did. Sadly this specific instrument doesn't seem to care much for me." His lip twitched when he looked over Belle's shoulder at the violin. "Quite the spiteful little thing."
Belle turned to him in surprise and he pursed his lips, displeased that she'd ruined his attempts to improve her posture.
"You mean it's enchanted?"
He tutted at her until she turned back around and he was able to reset her arms in the proper place. "Of course it's enchanted. Now hold still." The pulse in Belle's neck throbbed against the violin under her chin and the neck of it was slick with sweat.
"Tighten your stomach and relax your shoulders," he said quietly, one hand twining around her waist, fingers splayed wide across her abdomen. Her breath hitched but she tried to do as instructed but it was next to impossible when all she could think about was the heat of his hand radiating through the fabric of her dress. Still, she somehow managed to loosen her shoulders until he was satisfied, but she jumped when his fingers touched the tender skin of her wrists, adjusting them slightly, teasing at her fingers until she held the bow just right.
"Close your eyes," he whispered.
"But then I can't see the music." She refrained from turning around again to look at him.
"Close your eyes," he repeated. Belle paused her lips, but did it anyway.
"Music must be felt, it has to come from in here." He tapped her back, his touch firm but light between her shoulder blades, gesturing to her heart. "You must feel it before you can play it."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" She felt more than heard him laugh. "By being quiet."
Belle huffed, but let her mind focus her senses, but she was not pleased with what she found. All she could focus on was the heat of him, the weight of his hands on her hips and the way her back brushed against his chest when she breathed and how much she wanted to lean back into him. Fear of rejection hung bitter in her heart rooted in deep longing. She felt more at home here than she'd ever felt before. It was almost erotic to be so understood by a man she barely knew and she wished he could understand how she loved him.
She could feel the music stirring inside her like smoke, whirling around and collecting memories and feelings into a writing mass of something that demanded to be free. Her breath caught as Rumpelstiltskin leaned into her and she felt the length of his body down her body. His fingers tightened on her hips as his cheek pressed against her hair and he whispered, "Now play."