Two nights. That was how long Belle spent crying over the incident with Mr. Gold. During the day she remained composed, but avoided her family as much as possible. At night, when she was alone, she could show her emotions, letting the tears flow freely. However, it was only for two nights. By the third she wouldn't let herself cry over it anymore. It was ridiculous to keep grieving over something she never had to begin with.
Customers came to and fro, but since Belle worked in the back, she rarely interacted with them. She would overhear the conversations between them and her sisters sometimes, gossiping about useless things, but she mainly tried to keep her focus on her work. It was harder now, staying focused. Her mind would constantly wander to the mysterious Mr. Gold no matter how hard she tried to stop it. After a few days she had managed to think of him less, and it worked better when the book she was fixing required more concentration than most.
After over a week had passed, she was almost back to normal. Although when she let her thoughts wander to that man, the sadness returned, but she made sure to stay busy to keep her mind off of him. As the days passed, she had made no other attempts to contact him, and neither did he. That only reinforced her conclusion that she had been imagining something between them. If he had wanted something more, then he would have come to call on her.
That afternoon she was attempting to sew the binding of a very old book together. Any small mistake could ruin the delicate pages, so she had to be extra careful. Slowly, she moved the needle back and forth between the pages ignoring the hustle and bustle in the next room where the customers shopped. By late afternoon, it died down. Besides the occasional bickering between Adelaide and Felicie, it was pretty quiet.
The day she had returned from lunch with Mr. Gold, her siblings had only harassed her a little. That was unusual for them, but they had just bought themselves several new fancy hats, and they were more concerned about their items than where their sister had been. Belle didn't agree with the way they spent money on frivolous items they couldn't afford in the first place, but she knew they wouldn't listen to her if she said anything.
Belle heard the front door of the shop open, along with the bell that told them they had a customer. Her sister's voice didn't ring out right away to greet the customer, but Belle didn't think much about it. She kept her mind on the book. The only reason the customer caught her attention was because it was so quiet. As she pulled the needle through the binding once more, another sound-a very distinct one-caught her attention, startling her, and caused her to drop the book. The tap of a cane along with footsteps could clearly be heard crossing the shop. Belle remained calm, knowing that many people walked with canes. As she bent down to pick up the book, she cursed herself for letting herself believe that it was Mr. Gold walking in. It had been almost two weeks. Why would he come now? Why would he come at all?
But then Felicie's voice finally rang out and the tone of it was frightful, "Mr. Gold!"
Belle almost dropped the book again, this time catching it, but jabbing her finger with the needle in the process. It penetrated her palm very deeply and she pulled it out quickly without thinking. Once it was out, the wound began bleeding profusely. She scrambled to grab a towel to wrap it up with as she listened to the conversation in the other room.
"Uh," Felicie continued nervously, "Wh..what are you doing here? My father's not normally in the shop…if it's him you're looking for, if it's the rent…"
Mr. Gold held his hand up to stop her rambling, "I'm not here for the rent or to see your father." He stepped up to the front counter and laid a very large book down. "I need to have this book repaired."
"Oh, yes, of course! Belle handles the repairs." She turned to face the door that led to the workroom, "Belle! You have a customer!"
Belle froze in place. This wasn't happening to her. This couldn't be happening to her. This had to be a dream. Mr. Gold was not standing just outside the door. Except he was.
She shivered in fear. How was she ever going to face him? At this point, she didn't want to. If she looked into those dark brown eyes again, she didn't know if she could hold it together. Whether she would get angry and yell at him or burst into tears she didn't know. But she had to stay strong. Not only would her sisters be watching, but also Mr. Gold had done nothing to deserve an emotional outrage.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to smile, and stepped out into the front room. "Hello, Mr. Gold," she greeted.
"Miss French," Mr. Gold replied with a warm smile, "I hope you are well."
Belle nodded, using all her energy to remain collected. It was more difficult now that she was face to face with him. He looked just as immaculate as ever, dressed in his usual expensive suit. His outfit was perfect, not a wrinkle or piece of lint in sight and not one hair on his head was out of place. Did he always dress this way? Did he always pay this much attention to how he looked? Belle could never recall seeing him in anything else the few times she had seen him in public. But it wasn't like she minded. She couldn't imagine him any other way. And she enjoyed the way he dressed. It made him look… She immediately pushed those dangerous thoughts from her mind, and stood stoic. "What can I help you with?" she asked politely.
He stared at her a moment before replying causing Belle to wonder what he was thinking. "I hear you are very talented when it comes to book repair. I came by to see if you could do anything with this." He held up the book. "It's very valuable, but I'm afraid it's no good to me in this condition."
"Of course," Belle replied glancing down at the book in his hands. She went to reach for it then remembered she was still clenching the bloody cloth in her wounded hand. Quickly she pulled back. It would be horrible if she were to get blood on Mr. Gold's book. Bloodstains were not easy to remove. If she ruined it, she knew she couldn't pay for the book if it was as valuable as he said.
"Is something wrong Miss French?" Mr. Gold asked with concern.
She frowned unintentionally. She wished he would stop calling her that. Although she knew it was proper, she didn't care. Miss French did not sound right on his tongue. He had called her Belle once and that's what she wanted him to call her now. Realizing she had been silent for an extended period of time and he was patiently waiting for an answer, she moved her hand where he could see the cloth she was holding against her cut, "Oh, uh, I cut my finger a moment ago. I don't want to get any blood on your book."
"It's bleeding quite badly," he observed, "You should tend to it."
"Yes, I will." She looked up at him, but her attention turned to her sisters standing behind the counter watching them intently. And now her brother was there too. When did he come in? She didn't hear the bell on the door. Then again she was distracted. Not wanting to give them a show, she motioned toward her workroom, "Uh, if you step in here, I can take care of this, then look at your book."
Mr. Gold nodded, following her into the room.
Belle closed the door behind him, but not all the way, leaving a large enough crack so her family didn't think something inappropriate was going on. She was relieved once they were alone; to know they were no longer exposed to scrutiny. She knew once that Mr. Gold was gone, her sisters were going to bombard her, so she was relieved she could interact with him alone for the time being.
Belle stood there at the door twisting her hands together, unsure of what to do or say next. She watched as he glanced around the room, taking in the copious amounts of books stacked all around the room. When he turned to look at her, their eyes met and she found she couldn't look away. She was drawn to those deep brown orbs. There was so much mystery in them, so many layers. And as much as she tried to deny it, she wanted to uncover them.
His eyes floated downward, then back up at her, looking at her expectantly.
She furrowed her brow, not knowing what he wanted her to do.
He glanced down again, then the corner of his lip quirked up, "Miss French."
"Yes?"
"Your hand." He pointed toward her wounded hand, which was now dripping blood onto the floor.
"Oh…OH!" Belle exclaimed. Mr. Gold was distracting her so much, she had forgotten all about it. "Excuse me a moment."
She moved to step around him to go to the bathroom, but he stopped her, grabbing hold of her arm with his free hand. "There's no need," he said, sitting the book down and leaning his cane against the wall. "I'll take care of it."
Belle looked at him questionably. Then her breath hitched as he gently put her wounded hand in his, moving the soiled cloth aside. Slowly he hovered his other hand above her injury and it began fading away until it disappeared completely, leaving behind fresh creamy skin.
Her eyes were glued on her hand, gawking at the magic he had just performed before her. The wound was gone, completely gone, along with all the blood. Although, a small tingling sensation remained, her hand no longer hurt. It was amazing. Magic was incredible. She wanted to know more. There were tons of questions she wanted to ask him.
Yet, she forced herself to stay silent. She had spent days grieving over this man because she thought he wanted nothing to do with her. Just when she was beginning to get over it, he showed up and healed her hand when it was unnecessary. It seemed he was sending her mixed signals. What was his game? She didn't know, but she wasn't going to play it.
"Thank you," she managed to say, tugging her hand from his irritably while averting eye contact. She didn't mean let her aggravation show, but it did.
He looked at her confused by her sudden change of mood. She knew she had to change the subject quickly before he inquired as to what was the matter. She wasn't going to let him get to her again, and the longer he stayed, the easier that could happen. He had to leave. The book on the counter caught her eye. "What is wrong with it?" she asked, running her hand over the cover now that it was healed and clean.
"I'm sorry?" Mr. Gold asked, seemingly dazed.
"The book. What's wrong with it?"
"Oh, yes." He stepped up next to her to show her the damage. "There's a very large rip in the back cover. And here, some of the pages are separating."
Belle nodded keeping her gaze on the book. "Shouldn't take me very long to repair. You can pick it up in two days."
"I'm afraid I will be busy the next few days, so I won't be able to come by. But if you could just bring it by the shop whenever you've finished, it would be much appreciated." He paused, and then quickly added, "I'd pay you of course."
Belle turned to face him, the annoyance clear in her features. She didn't want to go by his shop. Not after he brushed her off last time. No. This was part of his game, the game she wasn't going to play. What did he want from her?
However, before she denied him, she took a moment to think before she spoke. She had to remind herself that she only imagined something between them. He was only being a gentleman when he saved her from Gaston, and he did so again with her hand. She had never been around anyone who could perform magic before. Although she could have easily bandaged her hand, perhaps it was proper etiquette to offer the help of magic. He had shown her nothing but kindness. There was no reason for her to be angry at him. And there was no reason for her to deny his very reasonable request. Silently she chastised herself for believing he had an ulterior motive. Not only did she owe him for his benevolence, but he was also a paying customer. If he wanted her to deliver the book, she would deliver the book. Calming herself, she managed a smile, "Very well. Would Wednesday afternoon work for you?"
Mr. Gold returned her smile. "That would be fine. I'll see you then. Good day Miss French." He opened the door to leave, flashing her yet another smile before he stepped out.
Belle nodded at him, but didn't say another word. She was already angry with him, something she shouldn't be, and just hearing him call her Miss French again was making it worse. Standing there frozen, she waited until she heard the last thump of his cane along with the bell on the front, before she began breathing again. Leaning her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes trying to gather herself. Her heart was beating rapidly, she was sweating, and, apparently, she had been holding her breath almost the entire time.
What was the matter with her? Why did this man rile her up so? Even though she knew it was unreasonable, she was still angry with him.
Yet, she didn't have much time alone with her thoughts, for almost the instant Mr. Gold was out the door, Ludovic burst in the room, "Belle! What do you think you are doing, associating with that man?"
Belle straightened, keeping her face neutral. "He needed his book repaired." She pointed to the large book on the counter Mr. Gold had left behind.
Ludovic gave it a side glance, but no more. "Yes, but I think he wanted more."
Belle's heartbeat quickened with those words, wishing they were true.
"Ruby at the diner said she saw you several days ago, on the balcony, your balcony with Mr. Gold. Belle, please tell me you're not getting mixed up with the likes of him. You didn't make a deal with him did you?" Her brother's eyebrows creased in worry.
"No!" Belle immediately replied, "It's not like that. The day of parade Gaston cornered me; there was no way to escape. Mr. Gold saw I was in trouble and offered assistance. He escorted me home to ensure my safety."
Her brother believed her; he knew how Gaston could be. Still that was unlike Mr. Gold. "But why would he do that?"
"I don't know, perhaps he's not the monster everyone claims him to be."
Ludovic didn't like the tone in Belle's voice. She spoke dreamily, like she actually believed Mr. Gold to be good. "Just be careful Belle. He may have saved you from Gaston, but he's no better than Gaston. He's dangerous. Almost as dangerous as the wizard Rumplestiltskin. That wizard would eat your heart, and that man would tear it out to feed it to him."
Belle nodded. The pang in her chest made it feel like her heart had already been ripped out, but there was no way she was going to tell him that. "Believe me. There is nothing going on between me and Mr. Gold." She spoke truthfully, telling her brother something she had told herself over and over again since that day she shared lunch with Mr. Gold. But it was another thing entirely to say it out loud to someone else, and she did well to hold back the tears until her brother retreated.