Belle lacked any and all artistic ability. Her best friend Neal, however, planned to become an artist when he graduated, so they always teamed up on class projects. She did the research part and he did the aesthetics. Some saw it as an unfair arrangement, but Belle loved researching and Neal worked hard on the art part.
That's why it was so easy for Belle's father to believe her when she told him she wouldn't be able to work in the flower shop because she and Neal had a school project. He let her go, not even glancing up from his phone when she asked. If he had glanced up, he might have noticed that she hiked her skirt up just enough and that she wore a sheer top without a camisole underneath. But these fashion choices went undetected by him.
Belle walked to the Gold residence. She'd been planning this since her eighteenth birthday, but now that she was actually putting the plan into play she kept nervously running her hands through her hair and worrying her bottom lip. Neal wouldn't be at home when she got there, she was sure of it. She checked with Emma three times to make sure the two would be on a date.
Belle rang the doorbell once. For a moment she thought he might not be home and it was all for nothing, but then the door swung open and she was face to face with Mr. Gold.
"Ms. French?"
"Hey," she smiled, biting her lip. "I'm here to work on a project with Neal."
Mr. Gold looked behind him, his eyebrows scrunched together. "Neal's out right now."
"Oh." Belle acted surprised. "Sorry, I must have mixed up the dates."
"It's no worry." He pulled the door open a little more. "You can come in if you'd like."
"Oh I wouldn't want to intrude."
"You're always welcome here." He shut the door behind her and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of his home. "Can I take your jacket?"
Belle slipped her jacket off. She could tell he noticed the black bra she wore under her sheer white blouse by the way his eyes shot to the ceiling as he accepted the jacket from her. He led her into the kitchen, where she hopped up onto the countertop. He'd been letting her do that since the first time she came over this house for a playdate with Neal.
"Tea?" He asked. Belle nodded, and he turned to preparing a cup for her. He already had a cup, half the tea gone (or maybe half the tea was still there) already. When he brought the small china cup to her, he sat down at the chair closest to her. She sipped the tea, swinging her legs under her.
"So how have you been?" He asked.
Belle shrugged. He was never really one for small talk, so the question caught her off guard. This wasn't how she pictured attempting to seduce her best friend's father. Maybe today wasn't the right time. "I've been okay, I guess." She said eventually. "Everyone's excited for prom, but I can't find it in me to look forward to it. It's not like I have a date or anything, you know?"
"What about Gaston?"
Belle let out a bitter laugh. "We ended it months ago. I could never really care for someone as superficial as he."
"And no other lucky boys have caught your attention?"
"I'm not really into...boys," she said, looking into his eyes and hoping he would catch what she was saying. She inched her hand closer to his hand cradling his teacup.
"Oh." He raised his eyebrows. "Girls, then?"
"No," she shook her head, "I mean...high school boys. I tend to feel more attracted towards men. One man in particular, actually."
"Oh."
Belle slid her hand over to his, linking her pinky around his. He sucked in a breath and she took the opportunity to lean down and press her lips to his. He moved his hand around to grasp hers. His hand slightly shook but she ignored it, focusing on the way his dry lips felt against hers.
"I've wanted to do that for so long." She admitted when they parted.
He shook his head, his face clouded with confusion. "I don't believe you."
"Let me show you, then." Belle leaned down to once again capture his lips with hers. It was totally worth the years of waiting.
