If there was one thing that irritated Mr. Gold, it was rain. The pressure hurt his bum ankle immensely, and it didn't help that he had to walk home. Blast it all. Getting up from the booth and slapping his money on the table, he headed outside into the freezing Maine weather. He couldn't seek shelter here, no one did more than tolerate him in the diner. Hell, no one did more than tolerate him anywhere.
Tightening his coat around him and gripping his cane, he ventured out into the the rain. Within minutes he was soaked, and he muttered curses under his breath as he trudged on. He thought about stopping at the shop to dry off and take a few gulps of scotch before heading home. That was, until fate intervened.
Gold suddenly found himself colliding with a body and an umbrella, causing them both to fall over onto the wet concrete.
"Oh, god, I'm so sorry!" the person he had collided with was quick to recover, getting up and holding the umbrella over their heads. A small, delicate, pale hand reached down to him. "Here, let me help."
Gold blinked the water out of his eyes and looked up at this new person. It was Belle French, the woman who ran the library across the street form his shop. Her brown curls hung from her head, wet, and her blue eyes were filled with concern as she looked down at him. Concern, not fear, like how everyone else looked at him in this town. She was concerned about him. He must be dreaming.
He grabbed his cane in one hand and then hers in the other, and with her help he was able to stand.
"I'm so sorry about that," Belle said. "I didn't see you."
"It-It's no matter," he said. Why was she talking to him. No one ever talked to him, unless it was about rent. And she was standing here, holding the umbrella over both her and his head, looking at him with concern, talking to him.
"Oh, you're soaked," she said. "Here, why don't you come to the library? It's warm there, and we'll have coffee, ok?"
"Do you know who I am?" he asked.
"Yes, of course," she said. "You're Mr. Gold, you own the pawn shop across from the library. Why does that matter?"
It mattered for many reasons. He owned the town, including her library and the flat she lived in. his reputation through town was not a good one. He was an ugly old monster of a man if anything else. But at that moment, the beautiful Belle French made all of that not matter.
"Now are you going to come to the library, or do you want to be soaking wet?" she asked, completely serious.
"...Alright, I'll go with you Miss French," he said, and wordlessly followed her to the library under her umbrella. Belle French was a funny girl.
The library was dark, but it was warm. She led him through the shelves and shelves of books to her small flat which wasn't very special, holding only the basics that a house should have. But the sofa looked very comfortable.
Belle hung up her rain coat and insisted that he hang his coat too. She got him a towel and had him sit on the sofa while she made coffee. For the first time in a long time, Mr. Gold found himself at a loss for words. Here he was, sitting in Miss French's apartment and she was making him coffee without caring about who he was or rent or anything... unless she was just having him warm up to her so she could ask for lenience when the time for rent collection came around. He rolled his eyes. People...
"Being nice to me wont make me more lenient on the rent." he said as she came to the couch with the coffee. She looked at him confused.
"what about the rent?" she asked.
"Well, that must be the reason why you brought me here, isn't' it?" he asked. "Trying to get on my good side so I can spare you more time when rent day comes. Jest telling you, dearie, I don't' have a good side."
"Are you really that idiotic?" she said, handing him a cup. "You think I'm like that? For your information, Mr. Gold, I have no problem with the rent, and what's wrong with being friendly?"
For that, Gold had no answer. He still suspected she was just trying to have him be lenient on the rent, but he decided to drop it for now.
"They why am I here, Miss French?" he asked.
"Call it an apology for slamming into you," she smiled. "Besides, I... I would like some company. The only reason I went out in the rain was to maybe talk to someone. It gets so lonely and quiet here."
"It's a library, Miss French," he said, sipping his coffee. "It's supposed to be quiet."
"The silence can be deafening when you have no one to share it with," she said. "You of all people should know that, Mr. Gold."
"Me?" he asked, looking at her.
"You're' alone too, spending all that time in that pawn shop," she said. "It must get lonely, I know it does."
Gold once again found himself speechless because of this woman. How could she know that? Did she really...really understand him? She was rather a funny girl...
Belle began to talk about books, and he sat back and listened, sipping his coffee as she jabbered on and on. Gold liked to hear her voice. It was enchanting, that lovely accent he wouldn't soon forget. Almost an hour passed this way, friendly conversation of books and movies and questions like why he always wore suits. And then there was silence. Just peaceful, content silence as they finished their second cup of coffee. And then they realized something...
The rain had stopped.
"...You should probably get going..." she said, genuinely disappointed that he had to go. He looked at her. He didn't want this to end. She was a strong, beautiful woman who had only wanted company. And truth be told, he had wanted company too.
"...Perhaps we could do this again, sometime?" he asked. "As long as you're not trying to spare you more time on the rent."
"Again with the rent?" she smiled. "How long will it take you to figure out that I'm not after that?"
"Not as long as you'd think," he smiled. She smiled back at him, and their eyes locked. Mr. Gold felt something stir in hes heart, something he couldn't ever remember feeling before. Ever. She looked a little nervous, biting her lower lip slightly and her blue blue eyes going back and forth between the two of his brown eyes. He licked his lips, nervous himself, though he wasn't sure why. He saw her lean first, and nothing could have stopped him from leaning in return.
Their lips met, and everything was forgotten.