Day 4 – Afternoon
Unnamed, intangible thoughts of Belle and feelings and colors swirled and mixed in Gaston's brain as he waltzed into town that day. Every nerve felt electrified; every hair stood on end. He couldn't explain it. With each step down the cobblestone street carrying him farther away from the cottage, he felt weaker. Heavier.
He found that his body could function on its own, too lost in his thoughts to realize that he had stopped at the baker, and the grocer, and only snapped out of his daze when someone called his name. Once. Twice. Three times.
Not realizing that he had been standing in front of the bookshop, gazing longingly into the window, Gaston turned- slowly, but surely- to see the same group of men from the bar, hungover and hanging out against the usual wall. As if not believing their presence, Gaston sauntered over to them warily.
"We missed you at the Boar's Head last night, Gaston!"
One of the men reached up to greet the hunter with a friendly, masculine slap on the back, but reeled when he saw the expression on Gaston's face. It was unlike any they had ever seen.
"Hey, uhh… you a'right, Gaston?"
Like a clock striking midnight, he was suddenly alert. He quickly and stealthily transformed back to his old self, letting out a bellowing laugh that shook the shutters.
"Of course I am! Never been better!"
The men exchanged nervous glances. One of them mustered the courage to speak up.
"Where… where were you last night?"
Gaston, with a broad smile, opened his mouth to answer. But then his eyes went wide, and he registered for the first time exactly who he was speaking to.
Everything felt disconnected. Lefou wasn't beside him. These men were from the tavern. Where he had made a bet. A bet to marry Belle in under a week. How many days did he have left? Three? Four? How could he have forgotten? What had happened to him?
His alpha male instincts kicked in and he puffed out his chest. He leaned in, slyly, and elbowed the pudgy man nearest to him.
"Well, if you must know… I was at Maurice's last night."
Three jaws dropped at once.
"But… but… Maurice is- out of town- he-"
"I know."
Something flickered across the men's eyes (Belle was left alone in her cottage, unattended and unsupervised) and they all burst out cackling at once.
"You dirty dog!"
"No one's slick as Gaston!"
"No one's quick as Gaston!"
"What a guy!"
What they didn't know was, that although what Gaston said was true, nothing of a sexual nature had occurred between Belle and himself. Yes, they'd shared intimacy when they spoke in Belle's room, brushing hands and whispering as if Maurice was home and asleep in the next room. And yes, he had stayed there, leaving only to walk his horse home across town to his cabin, and once more to survey the damage of the former stable on Maurice's property. That was the extent of the evening. But they couldn't know that. He had a reputation to keep.
"As a specimen, yes, I'm intimidating," Gaston chuckled when at last the men had settled down. One of them mumbled "ladykiller." Another sighed.
"Ev'ry guy here'd love to be you, Gaston," the pudgy one mused, noticing for the first time the bandage on the bulky hunter's hand. The man next to him noticed as well and looked at it, puzzled.
"You know, Thomas said he saw smoke coming from Maurice's last night," the one in the middle interjected. Gaston raised an eyebrow at him, as if in warning.
"I mean, ha, what did you get up to last night?"
The men laughed dryly at the humor. Although Gaston had always been one for good innuendo, the joke fell flat, and suddenly, the entire conversation- based on false assumptions- was disgusting. Belle was an honorable young woman. Why was he here, lying to impress these fools, defacing her name and reputation by supporting the belief that she had given herself away before marriage?
Gaston felt sick.
"I- I gotta go."
He spun on his heel and practically ran back to the cottage on the outskirts of town.
"We'll see you tonight, right, Gaston?"
When he didn't respond, the man yelled again.
"Don't forget the bet!"
Awwww. I totally forgot about this story. :C
But I'm back! And to clear up any confusion, I'm trying to portray Gaston as having "gentlemanly" morals for a reason. Plus, you gotta think of the time period, and the fact that he wants Belle to be his wife so badly insinuates that he has some type of virtue.