Part Two

Chapter 14

In the day or so following his injury, Belle and Adam existed in an uneasy peace. Neither of them picked arguments with the other. They said hello in the mornings. Once, Adam even managed a half-smile when Belle burst out laughing at something in her book, before both of them glanced up at each other, their awkward history re-remembered. Belle didn't hear anything else from Resa or her father, and Adam kept his distance from a strangely proud Cogsworth. For some reason Belle couldn't stop thinking about Adam's face just before he came to - the softness of his skin, the minuscule smile - they were embedded in her memory as deeply as the colour of her mother's eyes, or the smell of scented candles the flat in Edinburgh had always possessed. As for Adam, the gentleness of Belle's fingers on his face - a gentleness he had not expected from somebody so strong and sharp as Belle was - haunted many of his dreams in the following nights.

Eventually, three days after the attack on Belle, she stalked into the pod, hauling her heavy bag up to rest on the kitchen counter, flumped onto the hard wooden chairs at the table, laced her fingers together, and rested her head on the interlocking digits, looking straight at Adam as he sat opposite her.

"This is a little awkward, isn't it?" she said without preamble.

"Sorry?" Adam asked, his mind still caught up in the world of Cormoran Strike, placing his kindle face-down on the table.

"This," Belle said, gesturing to the space between them. "This . . . whatever you want to call it. I know you said you wanted to try and get along better, but honestly I don't know if this is any better than what was happening beforehand."

"Well, it's not like we hate each other - is it?" Adam asked, slightly worried that the humbling of his (considerable) pride and the strange, mutual trust the two of them had expressed earlier was for nothing. After all, while his dislike had been founded on irritation and assumptions, Belle actually had good reason to hate his guts.

"No, I don't - I don't hate you, but - well, I don't exactly - "

"Like me all that much either," Adam finished. Belle flushed, and he knew that he had got it right. "Well . . . to be honest, I think my situation is kind of the same. I mean, I don't hate you - I never hated you - okay, maybe at the start - I mean, I - I'd just met you and - oh." Adam sat up at the realization. "This is awkward, isn't it?"

Belle chuckled. "Yeah, a little bit, I think." A smile darted across Adam's face, but almost as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished again. Belle lowered her right hand and absent-mindedly started tapping out a rhythm on the table, her eyes still on Adam's face, while Adam himself chewed silently on his inner lip. Making up her mind, Belle twisted round in her seat and fished a pile of dog-eared coursework out of her bag, and started reading over it. Adam picked up his kindle again and re-entered the world of murder mystery.

Belle's eyes glanced over the day's notes, attempting to take in what her professor had said, but all she could think was that sooner or later Adam would be mocking her for being so studious. She glanced up, only to see him intent on his machine, and Belle quickly flicked her eyes back down again. She blushed again, and reached behind her head to tighten her ponytail. Why did you think he was looking at you? He said he wouldn't pick fights anymore - so why are you so nervous? Belle sighed, shifting slightly in her chair. Because, she replied to herself, I have good reason not to believe short-tempered, long-haired men who say they've changed.

At Belle's sigh, Adam swallowed almost imperceptibly. He could almost feel her eyes boring into his head, and he attacked his inner lip even more violently than before, determined not to look up. He didn't do very well with attention - hadn't since he was about eleven or twelve. Giving in to temptation, he sneaked a glance at the strange girl who had helped him despite her prejudices, only to find that she was intently studying her coursework, a gentle flush colouring her cheek. Finally, his teeth punctured the delicate skin of his mouth, and Adam tasted his own blood.

"Ow," he muttered, and quickly he scraped away from the table, taking his kindle with him, and rushed to the bathroom to inspect his mouth.

Belle sighed in relief. It had been almost painful to spend that much time alone with him - really, with any man since she had left George. Swiftly, before Adam could re-emerge, she stuffed her coursework back into her bag, grabbed a banana from the fruit basket that Adam seemed weirdly intent on keeping fresh, and ran off the the library.

Adam sighed in relief. Spending that much time alone with someone - especially Belle, with their recent history for once getting a chance of repairing itself - was slightly terrifying. He washed his hands slowly, letting the warm water heat his frigid fingers, and glanced up at his reflection. His father's blue eyes stared back, and did not break their gaze.

"Why is it that whenever something incredibly awkward happens between Adam and Belle that we are always stuck in somebody's room eavesdropping?" Lumière hissed from his position pressed against Cogsworth's door.

"Beats me," Cogsworth whispered back, lying face-down on the floor attempting to see through the gap between his door and the door frame.

It was almost the same situation as last time. Lumière needed some theory practise, and Cogsworth was feeling lonely, so the two of them joined together and started studying in Cogsworth's room. They hadn't paid much attention when they heard Adam walk in, but as soon as they heard Belle's voice the two of them had dropped their papers and rushed to the door.

Straightening up and rubbing his back, Cogsworth winced slightly. "I'm glad that wasn't as disastrous as the Classic Novels Incident," he said.

"Oui, mon ami," Lumière agreed, "at least they're not fighting anymore."

Cogsworth collapsed on his bed, and silently urged Lumière to join him. "So," he muttered, "do you think he has a chance?"

"Maybe," Lumière sighed. "Personally, I think he needs to stop thinking about it in terms of whether he 'has a chance' or not, but again, that's just my opinion."

"For once, Lumière, I have to agree with you." Cogsworth sighed again, worrying about his little cousin. "I just hope he realises that before it's too late."

A/N: I'm back! Probably not for long, but I'm back!

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