He calls her Belle sometimes, and even though Isabelle is her full name, no one ever calls her Belle. She doesn't mind that he calls her Belle, in fact she doesn't mind it at all. It's the way he says it, sometimes, that makes her sad. The tone of his voice and the underlining traces of love seeping into the letters of her name. They all make her feel so sad, because she knows he couldn't possibly love her that way, and she knows that she shouldn't care that he doesn't.
It had been four months since she was released from the mental hospital. One day the door had opened and her father had stood there. With a shaky smile and an awkward look, he had reached out for her and embraced her in a too long and too hard hug. He had cried and she had stared silently at the woman behind him, wondering why the sight of the strange dark haired woman made her so uneasy. That had been the day Isabelle French got reintroduced to society.
But everything felt wrong.
It hadn't taken Isabelle long to get readjusted to life outside the hospital, she was by nature a curios girl and her curiosity had helped her find new friends easily. It also hadn't taken Isabelle long to figure out he father was in debt. Or that he wasn't trying to do anything abut it. Her father always took the easy way out, he always had. He was convinced that one day he'd win the lottery and he'd be able to pay off their debt. Somehow along the way, his debts turned into their debts. And until he was able to pay it off, he hid behind a bottle of gin. And it had driving Isabelle mad, so she took it upon herself to seek out Mr. Gold and to make a deal.
She'd been terrified the first time she stepped into his shop. Her friend Ruby had warned her against going there, but Isabelle was determined. Determined and scared, she'd stepped into the shop and looked around. Her eyes widened slightly of how unorganized everything was, things felt as scattered and she could see the dust that had already settled on most things. She coughed and turned toward the doorway leading to the back room. There he stood, silently staring at her. Isabelle swallowed uncomfortable, by the look in his eyes; it looked like he'd been ready to pounce at any given moment. Perhaps she'd arrived at a wrong moment. It really should have made her more uncomfortable then it had, but she'd had just smiled with new determination and walked up to his counter. As it turned out, he was interested in getting some help around the shop and by the end of that meeting, she had a new job.
That was three months ago, since then something had changed with Isabelle. She didn't when it had happen, but over time, something inside of her had awoken. A small spark, from inside her heart, bursting out to her fingertips. Life had felt so wrong when she first stepped out the hospital doors, now they felt right. Inside the dark eerie pawnshop, life was simply that, right.
And found herself staying behind after closing time.
Not that Mr. Gold seemed to mind, he often told her she was free to go home and when she didn't, he simply took down another teacup down and handed it to her. They wouldn't talk much those days, just simply sit there and drink their tea. Enjoying each others company, in a way she never thought she'd be comfortable with, in silence. It had been so silent in the hospital, that when she got out all she wanted to do was listen to everything. The birds, the people, the traffic and the chaos of life that she'd missed out on for so long.
It wasn't the same silence with Mr. Gold, this was a simple silence and cherished every second of it.
He called her Belle one night, just as he poured her some tea, he had stopped pouring for a second, glanced her awkwardly and then filled up her cup again. She'd tried to smile at him reassuringly, but she was afraid her smile had come off more forced then she'd wanted. She wanted to ask why he called her that, had he known someone by that name and had he loved her?
Had he ever loved anyone?
She hoped he had, and hoped desperately that they had loved him back.
He calls her Belle sometimes, less now then he did in the beginning.
It's not that she minds it, or she would've asked him to stop, but the way he says it. It's as if he was talking to someone else and sometimes, she thinks he is. Because sometimes he looks at her, with an unplaced hope, and she knows, just knows, it's not her he's looking at.
It hurts.
It hurts so much, because even though she knows she shouldn't have, she's fallen hopelessly, stupidly in love with the town monster.
Sometimes he calls her Belle, and she knows it's a slip up, because she sees the regret in he's eyes, when he's realized what he said. And how he shy's away, pretending there's work to be done in the back office. She knows there isn't, but she lets him run away and hide.
Sometimes he calls her Belle and she wishes; she wishes she were the Belle he was calling for.