Chapter 7 in which Gold can't leave a woman in tears.

The sixth night:

Every second he spent with her, he wanted to touch her and assure himself that she was really alive and with him. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted to do all those things every single second he spent with her. Every single second.

Of course he didn't. He controlled himself and kept his hands to himself and his mouth shut. Because she wasn't really Belle. Not yet. Not until the curse would break.

And he was so close to breaking it. So close. Regina was already mad like crazy. She would make a mistake sooner or later and then Emma would help him bring magic back and break the curse.

So he kept his hands to himself and kept his mouth shut. Or he tried to keep his mouth shut. He had already told her too much. He had told her about Bae. He had told her about Milah.

Yesterday night had been awful. She had been so tempting, so sexy and lovely and beautiful. He had pushed her away and he had seen the hurt in her eyes. He had hated himself for that but it had been better than the alternative. If he hadn't pushed her away, he would've pushed her against the wall and kissed her senseless.

Clearly he was not strong enough to be around her. So he would leave her in his house tonight. He would stay in the apartment over the pawn shop. He could sleep there. Or, more likely, spin all night.

As soon as he heard her car arrive, he put on his coat. He waited for her to ring the door bell to open the door.

As always, she hugged him. As always he was tempted to wrap his arms around her and keep her there until time would stop.

She let go of him too quickly. Usually he had to step away from her but today she sought out distance between them herself. She was smiling, but he could see right through that. Her shoulders were slightly pulled up and her whole body was tensed. Rosie wasn't happy.

"I'm sorry for what I said yesterday," he said making himself look into her eyes. He wanted her to know he was being honest. About that one thing, he could be honest. He was sorry for hurting her, he was sorry for pushing her away, he was sorry for pulling her into all that. He wished they'd never met.

She turned her head and pressed her lips together. He wished she'd be mad at him. He wished, she'd yell at him for being a jerk, but she looked like she was about to cry.

"And you do make me happy," he added eventually, "It's just …" that he was messed up and she deserved much better.

Tears streamed down her face. She uncrossed her arms and wiped away the tears with the backs of her hands. He felt like crying too.

"I'm so sorry, Belle."

"It's not about you," she mumbled.

"Who hurt you," he asked, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, but he wasn't quite successful.

"Nobody hurt me," she said and another tear rolled down her face, while she lifted her chin. Such a fighter.

He wanted to slay every dragon that dared to get in her way. He wanted to kiss her tears away. Instead he leaned his cane against the wall and took his coat off.

"What are you doing?" she asked sniffling.

He handed her the purple handkerchief from his front pocket. "I will make you a cup of tea."

Breathing heavily, she patted her face with the handkerchief. The right corner of her mouth curled up slightly. "Tea would be lovely."

With his hand gently placed on her back, he guided her to the kitchen. He made her sit down, then turned his back to her and hobbled over to the counter. Five minutes later he returned to the table, carrying a tray with a filled tea pot, two cups on saucers, two spoons as well as a little can of milk and brown sugar.

He put the tray down and she helped him arrange everything on the table. Then he poured the tea, before he sat down and hooked his cane into the chair back.

He put milk and sugar in his cup. "I know it's none of my business," he said quietly, "You don't have to tell me anything. But I'm here to listen if you'd like."

"Please don't be so nice to me," she replied, her voice heavy with tears again. "I'll cry if you don't stop."

He looked up from the cup and saw that tears already streaked down her face again. Their gazes met, her eyes wide and wet, her lip trembling.

"Oh, sweetheart …" Unable to stop himself, he pulled his chair around the table next to hers. He laid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair and pressed a kiss against her head. "Just tell me, love. I'll fix it."

For a moment, she relaxed into his embrace, leaning her forehead against his chest while her hands took hold of the lapels of his suit.

"I wasn't with another customer, I honored our agreement," she murmured, her face hidden from his sight by her hair. Then she leaned back and his arm glided from her shoulders. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at him with pleading eyes. "But I had a date with another man."

His stomach tightened. He had always known the day where she would open her to other men would come. He just had never imagined that he would be the one to comfort her after another broke her heart. He pressed his lips together.

"You're mad at me," she said.

He shook his heart slowly. "I have no right to be. Your life is your own. I don't own you and you don't owe me anything." He wished she wouldn't sit so close. He wished he wouldn't need her as much as he did, then this would hurt less.

"What went wrong with your date?" he asked quietly.

She shrugged. "Nothing. I was being stupid."

"You can lie better than that." Humor had always been his best defense.

It made her smile. She tilted her head. "You see right through me, don't you, Mr. Gold."

He was grateful to hear her use that name for him. It brought some reality to the situation. She wasn't Belle but right now he could be a friend to her. Do something that wasn't selfish. He smirked and waited for her to go on.

"I thought he'd like me and he thought he could buy me for a dinner," she said flippantly.

He gritted his teeth. "Tell me his name." He wanted to teach that bastard some manners.

"Why would his name be important to you?" She frowned. "I won't see him again. It's over."

It would be over after he would smash that guy's face in with his cane.

Sighing, she fiddled with her hands and avoided his gaze. "Sometimes I just wonder –" She bit her lip.

"What?"

"If that's all." She glanced at him. "Do you believe in love?"

"You could say that." He held back a hysterical laugh. Irony everywhere.

"Did you find love?"

"Yes."

"Your wife?"

He snorted. "No."

She looked at him again.

"You think, I could find love?" she asked.

"Sweetheart …" He shouldn't call her that.

Her eyes had dried and his gaze wandered to her red lips. He tugged a loose curl behind her ear and she leaned into his touch. He wanted to kiss the lipstick away. He wanted to kiss her. He swallowed hard and looked away.

"You'll find love," he said quietly. She would always have his. He wanted to tell her that so badly. Time for him to go. He raised himself up and grabbed his cane.

She touched his arm. "You didn't drink your tea."

He longed to sit down again, but it wouldn't be enough. He wouldn't stop there. If he would allow himself to stay, he'd touch her again. He'd ask her to love him. He'd kiss her. That was against all rules.

He straightened himself up and pulled his arm away. "I'm sorry, dearie."

He wished he'd knew how to fix her. He wished he could give her what she deserved. But he could only leave.

o0o

The sixth morning:

He brought a cup of tea to her room. He told himself, he did that for her. He told himself he just wanted to check on her and make sure she'd be okay.

He knocked and waited for her "Come in!" before he entered.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning." She sat on the chair next to the made bed.

If he hadn't glimpsed into her room this night and had found her asleep, he'd worry she wouldn't have slept at all.

He hobbled to her as gracefully as he could and offered her the cup. "Here."

"Thank you." She took it and their fingers brushed. She licked her lips. "I'm so sorry about yesterday, about crying." She blushed. "It was unprofessional and -"

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart," he interrupted her. He couldn't stop to call her that. He knew he would only escalate to 'love' now.

She placed the tea on the nightstand and stood up. "Why are you so kind to me?"

He wasn't being kind. He was being selfish just by standing here. He loved her. He wished that would be enough. So far his love hadn't been enough for anything. He would try to make up to her whatever he could. He couldn't tell her any of this.

He swallowed. "Why are you doing," he gestured at the room and them, "this?"

She shook her head and raised a brow. "Answer my question and I answer yours."

"Ask something else." She was standing too close. He could smell her sweet scent.

"What's your first name?"

The question surprised him. He struggled for a few moments to find the right answer. "Noah."

He hadn't given this name to anybody. The only other person who knew about it aside from Belle and him was probably Regina, who had given the name to him.

"It means comfort, doesn't it?" she asked.

He nodded. Irony everywhere.

"Noah." She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and smiled at him. "I like it." She reached out her hands and smoothed down the lapels of his suit with her palms. She was standing way too close.

He cleared his throat. "Your turn."

Belle kept fingering the lapels. "I have a degree in English Literature," she explained, "tons of student loans to repay and at the time being nobody to hire people with a decent understanding of the English language. As soon as I'm out of debt, I'll stop." She looked at him and tilted her head, exposing her neck. "And my name is Jolie."

He frowned.

"Rosie is for customers," she added. Her hands moved from lapels to his shoulders. "My real name is Jolie. It means"

"Pretty." He swallowed. "It suits you."

She smiled brightly. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're beautiful."

"That's why you call me Belle?"

Sweet magic. He was doomed. He nodded. That lie was as good as any.

"I'll see you tonight," he said before he fled the room.


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