She was beautiful. The striking yellow of her dress made for a pleasant compliment to her pale skin. And now, underneath the sparkling heavens with her leaning against his chest he wanted to kiss her so bad.

He had set up a nice dinner for them (green bean casserole, her favorite), choking it down with a smile on his face so that he wouldn't upset her. He knew that Belle would never let on that his carnivorous appetite upset her, even though it clearly did. The whole purpose of their evening together was to prove to her that he wasn't as beastly as his appearance, even though he couldn't hide his lack of grace when they danced after their meal, tromping on her feet enough to make her wince slightly underneath her smile. Damn, he knew that hadn't been one of his better ideas, but he couldn't think of anything else gentlemanly enough to do.

Belle deserved way better than what he could offer her, he knew. She deserved a man with two hands, no fangs, claws, or tail that could sweep her off her feet and give her the world.

But he was far, far too selfish. He needed her warmth like a withered rose. Her soft hand in his padded palm just now rejuvenated him, feeding him life and melting the edges of his frosted universe enough to make him feel like he wasn't alone.

And he definitely wasn't alone right now, not with this wonderful woman in his arms, gazing up at him with, what were those, stars in her eyes? Unbelievable, yet there they were. He leaned down, wanting to be sure when she surprised him by rising up on her toes and meeting his lips with hers. It was amazing, the sense of warmth that suffused him so completely. The feeling grew, twisting in a tornado of light, encircling his insides so tight that he could feel every pulse of his heart.

And then, it let go.

The tension swirled around him like a breeze, lifting his hair and ruffling his shirt. He didn't dare to open his eyes to see if Belle was being affected the same way he was. If he did, the magical feeling that was filling him might leave, and then he would be left as a discarded shell that nothing wanted to inhabit because it was too narrow and pinched horribly at the sides.

"Terrance," he heard her breathe. Somewhere along the way she must have pulled back from their embrace. "Open your eyes."

When he didn't respond he felt her grab his hand and bring it to his face. At least he thought it was his face. He was almost certain that the sensation he was feeling was skin on skin, and yet the only way for that to be possible would be if the spell had broken…

Trembling, he slowly opened his eyes to find Belle's doe ones looking imploringly up at him. He raised his hands and started at the sight of his furless flesh.

"My God…" He ran his hands all over, inspecting and identifying his new physique. "Belle, can you believe this?"

He looked up to find her smiling at him, somehow managing to take what he wanted to say and shoving it back down his throat into his stomach. All he could do was stare.

Her eyelids had lowered to a smolder. "C'mere," she said as she took his face between her hands.

He was not one that needed to be told twice, lowering his mouth to hers and reveling in the sensation that bubbled up between them. She was the finest wine in the world, and he wasn't going to let go of her until he had drunk his fill. He wrapped his arms around her small waist to bring her closer. If he could help it, he would make sure that nothing would ever cause them to part.

"Master, come look! The spell has been lifted, it's…oh!"

If it had been anyone other than Mrs. Potts he would have murdered them on the spot. Belle smiled at the matronly woman, probably having already forgiven her. The young woman passed out smiles like the sweetest of candies. Even though he knew full well how stupid it was, he wanted to hoard each and every one and keep them in a safe place.

"It's alright Mary, was there something you wanted to show us?"

"Oh, yes!" She perked right up and started babbling about an impromptu celebration going on in the foyer.

Belle turned to him and grabbed his hand, reassuring him with a gentle uplift of her lips. "I'm not going anywhere, Terrance. It's a party, let's have some fun." Her eyes crinkled at the corners and she smoothed his furred brow with her other hand. He preferred to be known as Beast since that was what he was, or had been. Belle thought that too derogatory though, so she always called him by his given name. If she hadn't taken to using it he would have forgotten that it even existed.

He sighed but followed her. This woman had no idea of the power she had over him. It scared him senseless, but he wouldn't trade the pressure of her hand in his for anything in the world.

As they descended the stairs the noise of the revelry hit him first. Yelling, singing, music playing and some rowdy dancing were all taking place it sounded like. This party was already wreaking havoc on his nerves; even now he could feel a headache coming on. He just wanted to go somewhere quiet and hold Belle's hand, maybe even kiss her.

She must have picked up on his nerves somehow because she squeezed his hand.

"Are you feeling well? We don't have to go if you're not up to it." Concern marred her pretty features. He didn't want to disappoint her, especially since he knew how much she enjoyed parties.

He tried to put on his best fake assurance smile, which probably looked a lot better now minus the fangs. "I'm fine, let's go and enjoy the celebration." Perhaps he sounded a bit stilted, but that wasn't unusual for him. She believed his act anyway, so down the rest of the stairs they went to meet the overjoyed servants.

"Master, look, I have hands now! I'm so happy that you broke the spell."

That was about the twentieth person to come and tell him how gleeful they were to finally have thumbs again.

"S'alright Chip. Glad I could be of servisss." He waved a hand sloppily. The other had a drink that despite how continually he gulped from, it was always refilled by eager hands. He found that with enough alcohol the noise was actually tolerable. "Isn' that right Belle, having fun?"

She was asleep in her chair, exhausted by all her dancing and socializing. Looking around, he could see that there weren't many party goers left. A couple of them were planted face first on the floor. Perhaps now would be the time to retire, then.

Finding that he was sober enough to stand without falling, he picked Belle up and cradled her to his chest like a newborn infant. In truth, he should have woken her but he hated to deny her anything; even a few moments of rest.

Making his way up the staircase proved to be challenging when he couldn't see straight in the first place, but to top it off there were few candles lit due to his indisposed servants. He was afraid of stumbling, even more so with the weight of his precious responsibility in his arms.

When he got to the top of the stairs he froze. If he took a left down the corridor he would reach his chamber, but if he took a right that would lead him to Belle's. Even now, just looking at her face tore at his heart strings. Of course she was beautiful, but she was more than that. She was his. He wanted her with him in such a fierce primal way that there was no question of to whom she belonged. His chambers were a mess with all the broken furniture and torn drapery, and he would no doubt be embarrassed when she saw the state of it come morning, but right now the possession over her was singing so hard through his veins that he couldn't part with her even if he wanted to.