The fight took longer than anyone expected, and by the time both Belle and Beast—Adam, she chides herself mentally, his name is Adam—walk out of the Castle it's morning already. Everyone is hugging each other while confused villagers look around and find family members once lost in memory, and while Bele makes sure to look at everyone, to try and fit who she knew as an object with who they are now as human, her eyes can't help but keep returning to him.
Adam.
With blond and messy waves of hair that shines in the light like gold cascading on his shoulders, and whose profile as he turns to hug someone—Cogsworth, she notes as the two man talk, is very much like his clock self—looks as handsome as paintings of angels as it is outlined by the sun behind him and yet is simply just so human. It's the man she loves.
It's him.
Belle had never tried to imagine him, his real self. Adam. She never quite managed to combine the man in the paintings and the Beast she saw in front of her. She's not sure she will ever get used to it.
She remembers the pain of thinking him dead, and the shock of seeing him changed and alive.
Were her words what broke him free? Was it her finally admitting her feelings, now that she was free? Was he simply never destined to die like that?
Belle didn't know, and by the way Adam acted, he didn't either. Nor he cared.
Magic works in odd ways, she supposes. It was a mystery Belle would have to carry for the rest of her life. All she truly cared about was that he was alive and in her arms, human once again. Free.
Hers.
She smiles as he turns back to her and hold her hands, retelling their moment together to the finally curse-free staff, yet she isn't paying attention. She stares at him, his delicate features and smile, trying to get used to the face now without fur or fangs. It felt odd somehow, but she tried to ignore.
Belle never cared about appearances and she once fell in love with a monstrous Beast, she could learn to love this version as well. It was a face she would love to wake up in the mornings next to, one day. She would get used to it.
It was still him.
She kisses him as he finishes his telling, surprising him and their friends who cheered around them; focusing on Adam's soft lips and how right being with him feels, touching him.
When they part ways his deep blue eyes are still there looking at her lovingly like always.
It truly was still him.
She definitely wouldn't have a problem learning to love this face.
But maybe a beard wouldn't be so bad, Belle muses and begins to plan on how to convince the other.
They smile at each other, happy and in love.
Not bad at all.