The Prince woke up as dawn streaked the sky and spilled into the West Wing through the tattered and torn curtains. He opened his eyes and felt the unusual sensation of a smile on his lips. It brought the image of her face to his mind - her eyes wide and sparkling with wonder and delight, a joyful smile spread across her coral lips, a sweet pink tinge to her cheeks as she flushed in pleasure. It was the expression she wore when he had given her the library, the expression that caused his heart to first skip a beat.
The Prince climbed from his bed, pushing the shredded bedding away from him and walked over towards his balcony. He stretched his long, beastly arms, grimacing at the painful kinks. His overlarge beast frame was really not designed for a human bed, but he still slept in his room, on the soft mattress, every night.
Under its delicate glass dome the magic rose floated. Before, it had always seemed to be taunting him, but this morning he found that it made him smile again. He was struck with the wild impulse to take the rose from the protective glass dome and give it to Belle in the hopes of seeing that smile that lights up a room once more.
With a sigh, he pulled back the large paw that had begun reaching for the glass. The rose was so fragile at this point that carrying it to her would almost certainly be the end of it. He couldn't throw away his chance to be human again just when he was first beginning to believe that it might really exist.
He stepped further out onto the balcony, gazing down at the snowy gardens below. There was no sign of her there, but it was still very early. She was most likely still abed. With a sigh, he turned back to his rooms. There must be some way to fill his time until he could see her again. Some way other than torturing himself with daydreams about her and his human self, that is.