Chapter 14: Something there that wasn't there before
She was scared out of her mind. Having been held against her will at a dark, cold cell should have given her some perspective of what terror felt like, but confronted once again with his evasive formality and his walls firmly back in place, Belle felt her insides clench in apprehension, a horrible feeling of deja-vu washing over her.
They'd had the perfect day yesterday. He had never been so relaxed, so open around her before and with his defenses down at long last she finally got to experience the man behind the cold, distant mask to the fullest.
He challenged her mind and her opinions, never once backing down from an argument, but at the same time so genuinely interested in what she had to say that she never felt she had to tone down on restrain her thoughts or views.
He was smart, cunning almost and his reasoning was flawless most of the time and yet she had no scruples opposing him. He was logic and reason, she was passion and conviction and somehow, no matter what subject they tackled, they both came out with a new mindset, even if they were both too stubborn half of the time even admit it.
Somehow it was never about wining or losing, because sometimes, especially when she was specially ardent in making her point of something he would look at her with those dark, brown eyes fixed on her, looking at her so intently as if he could see all of her. As if there was no one else in the world.
She had never been a particularly vain or coy woman, she couldn't flirt to save her life, but she wanted him to notice her. And more so, she wanted to be the one he couldn't keep his eyes off, the one who could captivate that intense transfixion she sometimes caught in his eyes.
Yesterday had been perfect. The ease and comfort between them, the re-affirmation of their friendship had soothed her still frayed nerves like little else could.
She'd never realized so clearly before just how happy she could be with him. She'd been staying with him for only a couple of days, she had been asleep for most of it, but she hadn't felt so at home in a long time. Truth to be told, ever after her dad had moved her from Boston to Storybooke after her mother's death, she'd always felt slightly out of place. Like she didn't truly belong, didn't completely fit in.
In the warmth of his home - and right now she associated his house with warmth more than anything else - she finally felt like she could belong somewhere.
She wanted to belong to him. So she'd have the right to run her hands through his hair, wrap her arms around him and kiss him until every cloud of anxiety had disappeared from his eyes. She wanted him to belong to her, so that he would never have to feel unloved or condemned or alone again.
Sheriff Swan's words and his reaction to them filled her with dread. She could easily picture her happily ever after herself. With him. Together in every sense of the word.
But she had misjudged his interest in her once before and she wasn't going to make that mistake again. Any insinuation that there might be more going on between them, anything more than that he was comfortable with could jeopardize their friendship. Could break the delicate bond of trust between them. Could make him revert back into himself again, shutting her out.
At least he was willing to talk to her this time, although his tense demeanor indicated that he'd probably rather have his teeth pulled.
Whatever the outcome of their talk was, Belle felt certain it was either going to make or break them.
When he got inside the living room she was perched nervously on the couch, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on him, filled with confusion and apprehension.
Instead of sitting down next to her as he had done in the previous days, he opted for the fauteuil, reasoning it would be better to put some distance between them. His stomach sank as he watched a hurt look cross her face and he heaved a deep sigh, gathering all the courage he could muster.
"What did Sheriff Swan mean when she said I could have my 'happily ever after' now?" Belle questioned, her voice hoarser and lower than usual.
"Well…" he started slowly. "…Sheriff Swan has become aware of a certain… attachment I have formed. Which is why she made that comment."
He knew he had answered her without explaining anything and he briefly clung to the hope that it would be enough.
Belle was looking beyond bewildered now, giving him a frowned stare.
"That doesn't make any sense… she was talking about my happily ever after… what does that have to do with your… attachment?"
"Because it concerns you," he explained gruffly, fixing his gaze on a spot on the wall behind her. "Unfortunately, the sheriff is under the miscomprehension that this attachment is being reciprocated while it's… "
"Please…" she interrupted him, pleading quietly, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face. "Can you stop toying with words and just tell me what's going on?"
His heart ached at the hurt in her voice. She didn't deserve to be strung along like this, she had a right to the truth and perhaps in a strange way, it would be a relief to tell her. To speak the words to her face, even if it was only just once.
Steadying himself, he gave her a sad smile.
"I love you, Belle."
And for a split second every cell in his body warmed up because it was so true and so right to finally tell her, so liberating to speak the words freely at last. Was in that split second this moment the most poignant, perhaps even happiest moment of his life.
But then he became aware of the silence and the stunned, almost shocked expression in her eyes and he tensed up, his spine turning rigid and the hot prickle of humiliation searing his scalp.
And then he was rambling.
"As I said, I know these feelings aren't mutual and I don't expect you to reciprocate them… I treasure our friendship more than I can tell you and I have no illusions of it growing into anything more than that. I didn't intent for you to know about my sentiments, but there's been talk and I have been indiscreet about it in the wake of your abduction, so…"
"You weren't going to tell me?" she blurted out. "Y-You love me and you weren't going to say anything?" Her voice was rising and her eyes flashing and he knew he was right in the middle of massively screwing everything up.
"I wanted to spare you the awkwardness," he answered dejectedly, his shoulders dropping. "I know that for all that I've done I am an ugly man… I'm not the man you thought I was…"
Involuntarily he echoed the words she'd hurled at him months ago now, the words that had stung and haunted him all that time, although there was no resentment in his voice; he was just stating the stark truth. She would never love an old, crippled monster like him.
She launched herself off the couch, dropping down on the ottoman in from of his chair and grasped for his hand, holding it tightly between her own. "Oh gods… I'm so sorry about that…" Her voice was tearing up, moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, her face filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry I said that…"
His guilt-ridden mind halted at that, and he stared at her, his mind refusing to trust his ears. She was sorry? She was apologizing to him?
"Belle…" he started.
"It was a cruel thing to say and it wasn't even true. I just panicked because I thought you were done with me and…" The tear finally dislodged itself from her eye and rolled down slowly over her cheek. "I am so, so sorry…"
With every word she spoke, he became more dumbfounded, more speechless. But eventually it penetrated his dazed mind that she was blaming herself, that she had somehow managed to draw the conclusion that he didn't want her.
He tried to break across her, tried to get her to stop talking, but when nothing he said seemed to dam the flood of apologies he did the only thing he could think off: cupping her face in his hand he leaned in and kissed her, abruptly cutting her off mid-sentence, causing her to gasp.
He moved his lips over hers, relishing its soft texture and scent of something flowery that enfolded him.
He brought his other hand up to her face, softly, almost reverently caressing the few locks of her that curled around her face, drawing her bottom lip between his own lips, caressing it gently with his tongue.
She was softer and tasted sweeter than he could have ever imagined and he argued with himself that as long as she didn't move away, he would continue to hold her and kiss her for as long as she would let him.
When she leaned into him and moved her hands up to his shoulders, clinging closer he thought he'd entered heaven.
He was wrong. The moment her lips parted shyly underneath the tender pressure of his tongue, offering him a first real taste of her, he knew nothing would ever be this right or feel so good. He explored her mouth gently, trying to become familiar with what she liked and didn't like, his heart soaring as he found a particularly sensitive spot on the roof of her mouth, making her shiver as he teased it.
And then she came alive, her hands sliding from his shoulders into his hair, threading her fingers though it, pressing herself closer against him, returning his kiss without holding back.
His own hands moved to her sides and went around her, all rational thought leaving his mind as he could only focus on the taste and feel and smell of her.
Eventually they pulled back, breathless and panting and he rested his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her waist, unable to let her go. Her pupils were so far dilated he could barely make out the blue of her eyes and her lips were red and swollen and in that moment he loved her more than ever before. And he was so tired of resisting it, so tired of the ongoing struggle to keep his feelings in check and to curb his longing. He may have only had a small taste, but now his greediness was insatiable. He wanted more, he wanted all of her and the words came tumbling out of his mouth unchecked:
"I love you so much, sweetheart…"
"I'm so sorry about what I said…" she said simultaneously, anxiety still clear in her voice.
So he kissed her again, slower and deeper this time, trying to convey all of his feelings and erasing all of her guilt at once. There wasn't anything for her to feel guilty over, she had done nothing wrong.
"I am sorry for how I spoke to you," he told her when she broke the kiss, his voice hoarse and contrite. "So very sorry…"
"I love you too," she spoke at the same time, effectively causing the words to dry up in his throat with a highly unbecoming gulp.
She beamed at him, her smile filling her entire face, making her almost glow with happiness. A happiness, he realized with a small jolt, that he had somehow caused. Tentatively he reached his hand back up and stroked the side of her face with the back of his fingers, slowly trailing them across her cheek, her neck and her collarbone, feeling her skin heat up under his fingers, a blush spreading over her skin and her breath hitch in her throat.
"Gods, I love you…" he murmured lowly. Next moment she had pulled his head down again, kissing his lips in a sweet, shy, demanding, courageous way that was so characteristically Belle that he all but drowned into her, his hands dropping to her waist again and pulling determinedly as he leaned back in the chair and disconnected their lips just long enough to whisper: "Come here, sweetheart."
She followed suit, crawling into his lap, snuggling against his chest and he finally allowed himself to wrap his arms around her tightly, holding her close.
They didn't move for hours, talking between kisses and kissing between talks. There was so much they still needed to share, so much that still needed to be said.
He asked her when she first fell in love with him, the fact alone that she did still boggling his mind and needing to hear an exact mark. When she confessed a bit shyly that she had more or less lost her heart to him three years ago when he had caught her in the library, falling from that stepladder, he was floored. But when he declared himself to be a complete idiot after her revelation, she kissed him until his mind couldn't be bothered to care about it anymore.
She confided the full details of Gaston's intimidation to him, telling him of the weeks of fear as he harassed her the moment she set foot outside her apartment or the library and the dread she had endured when he had taken her and held her captive at the storm shelter.
His kisses became of the healing variety then, loving and gentle, rubbing her arms and her back tenderly until the last pop of tension disappeared from her body.
He told her once again how sorry and how embarrassed he was about his drunken episode three months ago and she finally revealed just how happy and hopeful that night had made her, when she had dared to believe for the first time that he might return her feelings and the passionate and heated kiss that followed left her in no doubt of just how strong those feelings were.
And she finally admitted just how much it had hurt when he had cut her out of his life so suddenly, even if she could now understand his reasons and recognize the pain he had suffered during their separation. If anything, the raw pain he saw in her eyes as she told him how much she had missed him and how lost and miserable she had felt during the weeks they hadn't spoken, truly made him realize just how much she loved him and his kiss was both an apology and a promise to never leave her again.
And there were lighter, more playful admissions as well. He confessed to going to Granny's Diner every morning for the past three years and suffering through a cup of lukewarm espresso, just so he could start his day with seeing her for a few minutes, earning himself a kiss that made his blood boil and his mind go blank.
And blushing profoundly, she confided in a low whisper just what exactly the appeal of the fireplace was to her, a confession that got them out of the chair at long last, but only so that they could relocate to the couch after he had rekindled the fire, their words finally drying up, just enjoying the feel of lying wrapped in each other arms, staring into the dancing flames, completely at peace with the world.
Author's note: Well, I hope that lived up to the expectations. There'll be a short epilogue up after the weekend and than my first Rumbelle story will be completed.