A/N: Drabble on Beast's thoughts after he lets Belle go. Inspired by the song "Let Her Go" by Passenger! Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast or "Let Her Go".
"I let her go...because I loved her." the Beast repeated this to himself as he leaned over the enchanted rose. In a way, this rose was exactly like him. Trapped in a cage, slowly dying. Belle leaving him was like the last petal slipping down, down, and finally collapsing. But he'd done it because he loved her. That was what you did for people you loved, right? You did what was best for them. Not for you. He shut his cold, pained eyes, only to see that beautiful face, those kind brown eyes locking with his.
And now a feeling was bubbling up inside of him. He didn't know quite what it was; it was a feeling he didn't know too well. He yelled, intending it to be fearful; one that would send any living thing within earshot into hiding. But instead, it was a mournful wail, one that grabbed his throat and cut it off, choking it with tears that had never escaped since the curse had been placed.
I've done the right thing. But could I go capture her once more? Lock her up-no! I couldn't. I've done the right thing. But why must I suffer for it? I did the right thing, curse it all! His thoughts fought back and forth. He knew it was selfish of him to want her back. She didn't belong locked up here, she belonged with her father. He'd loved her too much - because, after all, who could ever learn to love a beast? Certainly not a beautiful young girl that deserved much more than his impatient self.
He made his way over to the first piece of furniture he found, collapsing upon it with an inhuman moan. He'd stay here until the very castle rotted into the ground. What was the use of living? He'd finally learned to love, and that's where it got him. But no matter what bitter thoughts he forced himself to think, he couldn't feel any hatred towards the girl.
The Beast didn't know how hard his fall would be - his fall back from being in love to having that same old empty feeling clutching at his heart. If he was in the form of a beast, why couldn't he have the heart, the mind of a beast, too? He'd never love again. He'd never feel human affection again! That would happen all too soon anyway, he supposed.
But surely, if it was true love, wouldn't Belle come back someday? True love, after all, would find a way no matter what. But who was he kidding? The girl had shown affection for him, yes, but true love? He doubted it. He would be a beast forever, he may as well just face it now. But his poor servants, he realized as he set his mouth grimly, didn't deserve to stay like this forever. He couldn't care less about what he would end up being, but it was not any of his servants' faults that he'd been a selfish young fool. They didn't deserve the punishment that had been bestowed upon them forever.
Beast realized that this had been the first time he'd felt sympathetic for his servants. How had he gone this long without even thinking a second thought about their problems, about how they'd been punished for his selfishness? And how was it that suddenly, just because a doe-eyed girl with an understanding heart came by, he could see clearly now? This was certainly new and more than a bit alarming. It sent his emotions reeling, and he felt the need to apologize.
Oh, but what was the use right this moment? The servants were probably gathering around, gossiping about his decision to let Belle go. He'd have an eternity to apologize. Once their anger subsided, once his own dark mood had calmed down; then he would apologize. He focused on his huge paws. How gently that girl had settled her hand on them; allowed him to caress her hair; unafraid of the viciousness he would be capable of because of those thick, sharp claws. And how gently she'd touched his face! He settled his thoughts back on her. Maybe, maybe, if he thought enough of her, it would be as if she'd never left. He'd stay in his own mind, spinning fantasies that would never come true. Possibly, this wasn't the most sane choice, but all he had left of her were memories, and it was better than lying on your back, staring at the ceiling for hours on end, knowingly numb to the world around you. She-
"They're attacking the castle!" Cogsworth burst into the west wing and announced. The Beast stood up and strode to the balcony. A tall, dark-haired man and hundreds of villagers were battering the wooden door of the castle.
"Let them come," the Beast said quietly. Cogsworth gave him a horrified glance, but quickly hopped away, down the hall. Let them come. No use in fighting, anyway. They were pieces of furniture and a dreadful beast - who would care if the entire place was destroyed and pillaged?