/ Hello! It's been a while since I wrote so I'm slightly rusty. The pairing I usually write is also slightly different from this new pair I ship. Please bear with me asI restart the engines. As always, I look forward to reviews!
Story takes place in Storybrooke, and it's a normal AU human universe.
The blue light from her screen splashed across her keyboard, its familiar glow provided refuge from her daily struggles and obligations. Delicate, manicured fingernails danced across the keyboard as she reached her inbox and opened her latest missive from her secret pen pal. Pulling back her skirt to cross her legs, Belle allows herself to imagine what "R" had in stall for her today.
The title in bold, it made her heart flutter with both excitement and slight anxiety. She only knows him as R. He only knows her as B. Letting out a huge sigh, Belle clicked into it.
Leave all your toys, sweet worldly child
Traverse this earth to lands so wild
It grew up ancient hemmed from greed
L'italia's love caressing me.
Belle shut her eyes. "R" seems to be in a slightly strange mood of late, mentioning for her to "step out the door" in his last message and now he wants her to "leave all her toys" and "traverse" to wild lands.
It sounded like an invitation.
It was their game. They wrote to one another without end, without topic, filled with admiration and mystery. Encoded within were updates about how they were, what they were doing, what they were thinking. Belle had only deciphered so far that her writing partner was a man, a seemingly well traveled man, and that he was some sort of businessman. She had revealed an equal amount of information, about her status as a singleton and her university studies. She kept to herself, did her work and made sure she kept the grades up so she didn't lose the scholarship. Belle did not want to be stuck in this little town forever, she did not want the world to belong in her books and maps.
She nudged her glasses back to their usual perch on her nose bridge before drafting her reply. In the darkness of her room with her book bag by the floor, she could hear the rustling of customers downstairs, in her father's flower shop. Belle glanced at her clock, it was almost 7pm which meant that shop was closing soon.
Belle returned to her thinking.
Opening another tab to reply, her fingers begin weaving her thoughts.
You need only ask and it is done,
I've set my sights against the Sun.
Your voice alone completes the light
I'm yours to tease and to-
damnit. She had the perfect word and now she's lost it.
"-BELLE!" She hears the muffled yell of her father. "Belle, fetch the rent please? It's in the usual spot!"
Slamming her laptop shut and hoping it went into her drafts folder, she trotted over to her Father's room across the hall and found the roll of bills he had stuffed in her mother's old glory box. She made her way down the winding, creaking staircases careful to avoid the nails that had been sticking out and left unfixed for the years she grew up there.
She had always been curious of him. The landlord. The dreaded yet anticipated monthly visit. How he always smiled too sweet, and how his eyes lingered too long. There was also that look of torment whenever his eyes met hers. She didn't know where he lived, who he was or anything other than his little shop of antiquities two blocks down. She has been warned to never step foot in that shop. But yet, with all the warnings from her friends and family, she had always been slightly drawn to him, always slightly anxious and yet eager for his visits.
His familiar bergamot scent, the way he winks just before he leaves the shop, and the deep resonating tone of his soothing voice. Belle had always wondered if he was a local or if he had been raised elsewhere.
"Mr Gold, Sir, we're a little short this month, please.. please we'll have the rest next week." Belle's father pleaded in his most polite tone.
"I'm not interested in excuses or an extension. We have an agreement and a deal needs to be honoured." He towered over Belle's father in a slightly menacing stance.
The clicking of her heels against the staircase seemed to have distracted Mr. Gold. He threw his glance towards the noise and watched Belle hobble carefully down the stairwell, clutching the railings with one hand and cash in the other hand. She avoided his eyes, handing over the roll of cash and shuffling slightly behind a neatly packed bouquet of lilies.
Mr Gold turned his attention back to Belle's father before making a quip about how his only redeeming quality was that he had such a scholar of a daughter. The pleasantries faded into the back as Belle was hit with an epiphany. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and completed her response to "R" before forgetting what the end of the reply was. Belle disliked when she has ideas that seem to escape her later.
- ignite.
A small smile graces the corners of her face as she hits reply. It was only when Mr Gold's pocket buzzed did her attention return to the conversation at hand. He reached into his double welted pocket with one hand and glanced at the screen. For a split second, his eyes turned warm and he allowed himself to smile, even letting out a small sigh.
"Just one more week. On the notion that I'd hate to startle your daughter with the sight of her pathetic drunk of a Father begging to keep her home." Mr Gold narrowed his eyes, straightened his coat, and turned his gaze to Belle.
And then the wink.
It left Belle feeling a shiver down her spine and a warmth rising in her chest. She was unfamiliar with what all of this meant.
The only trace of his presence left was the ring of the bell by the door and the scent of Bergamot.