Here's the chapter that everyone (or at least DSK) has been waiting for- it's confession time! Quelle and fluffiness will happen, so read on and don't hesitate to review :)

When Belle felt that she couldn't afford to dawdle anymore, she discovered Jasmine waiting for her on the walkway.

"I suppose you've gone and rejected Clopin, then?" were the Arab girl's first words to her friend.

"Yes." Belle shook her head. "How did you know?"

"He came rushing back in a great hurry, would hardly look at us when he said goodbye, and said something about probably not seeing us again. And he had the look of someone just been refused something they want."

"Esmeralda?"

"Left shortly after he did, probably to go comfort him or something." Jasmine peered at her. "What about you? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." Belle leaned on the stone wall and gazed down at the tiny people of Paris, lost in contemplation. "It was embarressing, but I'm more concerned with having hurt his feelings. But, Jasmine, aren't you a bit surprised that I turned him down?"

"Not really." Jasmine suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I like him, but I knew he wasn't your type. We were all hoping that you might- no, I won't say it. I know you're not interested. You see, after our... discussion... from before, I've finally begun to understand what you were saying. You're not interested in men, and you're happy as you are, and I can completely respect that."

Belle's face flamed. If you only knew...

"Still, we had hoped..." Jasmine sighed, then looked up as she remembered something. "Speaking of, what on earth did you do to poor Quasimodo?"

Belle looked up, fighting off the butterflies. "What do you mean?"

"I was looking for my blue shawl up on the platform, and he came running in, looking quite upset, and planted himself at his table and hasn't moved since. I don't know what you said to him, but it look like you spoke a little roughly to him." Jasmine shook her head disapprovingly. "I know you don't care for him like that, but he adores you, and you need to be more careful with how you talk to him, Belle."

Belle groaned and buried her head in her hands. "I was right. What a disaster!"

"Explain?"

"God, this is embarrassing." Belle sighed and looked up at Jasmine. "I never said anything to him. I didn't even know he was there. Clopin... well, he... he kissed me, and Quasimodo must've seen it and got upset and didn't stick around long enough to see me push him away."

Jasmine stared. "Wow, really? That is... unexpected. But how much of a disaster is this, exactly?"

"A lot, seeing as I might have fallen the teensiest bit in love with love with him." Belle had squeezed her eyes shut as she said this, afraid of Jasmine's reaction, but when the other girl didn't react, she opened one eye wearily. Jasmine was still staring, but her shocked look worried Belle for a moment. But slowly, the look of shock turned to an expression of joy, and Belle put up a hand as she opened her mouth. "No, don't say anything. I barely know what to make of it myself, but I do know this: I have to somehow set the record straight and tell him how I feel, and I have to do it quickly."

Jasmine broke into an excited grin. "I was just going to say how happy I am for you, and how happy the girls will be when they find out, and how much we'll all say 'we told you so'... no, I'm just kidding, but I agree, you should go talk to him. Right now."

"I'm going to, but please, don't say anything to the girls yet."

"I suppose I can hold out for a while."

"Good." Belle straightened up and distractedly patted down her skirt.

Jasmine must've seen the nervousness in her eyes. "Don't worry, everything's going to be just fine." She reached forward and tidied up a few stray wisps of hair, smiling broadly. "You look perfect. I wish I could go with you, if only to see his reaction, but this is something you have to do alone. Now, go get him, darling."

Belle took a few deep breaths, her heart and stomach doing flip-flops around each other, and smiled weakly at her friend before continuing down the walkway towards the tower.

Jasmine stayed behind, watching her leave, and laughed to herself with glee.

She found him just as Jasmine had said.

Quasimodo sat hunched over his table, small figure clenched tightly in his hand, his face the picture of misery. Belle started to go to him, but stopped when her foot came in contact with something- another carving. She picked it up and smiled a little when she saw who it was, but then frowned a little as she wondered why it was on the ground. Had he thrown it?

She stepped forward into his line of sight and set it gently on the table. "Quasimodo?"

Her friend tensed, as if expecting a blow, the blood draining from his face. His paleness sent Belle into a flurry of concern, but she endeavored to stay on the matter at hand. Which wasn't that hard, since she had been meditating on it for the last few hours.

"I need to talk to you," she continued softly, pulling out the other stool and sitting down in front of him.

Quasimodo looked at her, but could only get as far as her lips. He couldn't look into those eyes, those warm, bewitching eyes that probably looked bright and happy with love for her gypsy friend. He imagined that she wanted a friend to confide in, to share her happiness with- he hoped she wasn't going to sing his praises. He didn't know how much of that he could take.

"Is it about that gypsy you were w-with b-before?" he asked miserably.

"Partly, yes." Belle took a deep breath and forced a smile on onto her face. "How to start... from the beginning, I guess. Ok. I met Clopin a few weeks ago on the street, and he showed an interest in me. He took me all over Paris, showed me his hideout, made friends with the girls, helped Jasmine. When we first met, he asked me to go to the festival with him. I told him I'd make a decision when I knew him better. I've lately made that decision."

Tears pricked the edge of his vision, but Quasimodo forced them back, not wanting to cry in front of her when she was revealing something so important to him. Instead, he tried to look happy for her. "I-I'm very happy for b-both of you-"

Belle put up a hand. "I told him no."

Surprised, he looked at her quizzically. "What?"

"I considered everything, and I decided not to go with him."

"Why?"

"Because..." Belle looked down at her hands, embarrassed. "One of the things I considered was... you. Everyone will have someone during the festival but you, and I wanted to be here and keep you company."

She turned down the gypsy out of pity for him? Were they the only things she felt for him, then- pity and compassion and friendship? He frowned. "You d-don't need to stay with me, Belle. I-I'm sure you rather s-spend time with him. He is handsome and fun and exciting, and you like adventure. You should go with him."

"But I don't want to go with him." Belle's heart skipped a beat as she reached into her pocket and drew out the yellow flower, running her finger over the petals and straightening them out, before holding it out to him. It was now or never. "I...I want to go with you."

Quasimodo stared at the flower; such an insignificant object, but symbolizing so much. Slowly, he reached for it, his head spinning with the sudden revelation and the implications. His huge hands dwarfed her little ones as they closed over the blossom, handling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"You see, I've been thinking," she continued, not daring to look up yet. "Le Jour D'Amour should be spent with someone special to you. And you're right- I do like adventure and excitement. But at the end of the day, I prefer someone serious and quiet, someone I can share my passions with and really open my heart to. Clopin isn't like that. It's taken me a while, but I've finally realized who it is that I care for. And it's not him." She reached forward and slipped a hand through his fingers, searching for his gaze. "Quasimodo, look at me."

Quasimodo tore his eyes from the little yellow flower and met her gaze for the first time, hardly daring to hope that what she was saying would answer the question in his heart. Her gentle brown eyes held his green ones fast, and he was very much aware of her hand on his.

"If you don't understand what I'm saying, let me make myself perfectly clear," Belle said solemnly, looking straight into his eyes. "Quasimodo, I am in love with you, and I want you to come to the festival with me." There, I said it. Belle let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and smiled up at him. "If you feel the same way, that is. What do you say?"

She did not in any way doubt his feelings, but she wanted to give him a chance. So she waited, staring into his beautiful green eyes, waiting for his answer.

For Quasimodo, the nightmare had turned into the most amazing dream. With all the thoughts swirling around in his head, one stood out above the rest: she loved him. Belle loved him! Overwhelmed, he fought to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes once again.

"Yes," he choked, feeling happier than he had ever felt in his life. "I do.. I f-feel the same way... I-I..."

Belle laughed through her own tears, not needing to hear any more. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled his close and pressed her lips to his.

He stiffened, shocked by the sudden action, but then he hesitantly put his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. His head was spinning, his heart was pounding, and he didn't care if she could tell.

Lost in their close embrace, Belle idly compared kissing Clopin to kissing Quasimodo and found she like this better. There had been no real connection between her and the gypsy, and despite the 'spice' of the previous kiss, this one was nicer- it was innocent and pure and sweet, and gave her a feeling of pure bliss.

When they finally pulled away, Belle smiled shyly and pushed some hair out of her face, suddenly embarrassed and not knowing what to do with herself. Her eye found the figure from before, and she picked it up. "This was on the floor..."

"I threw it." Quasimodo laughed uneasily, going red. "I was... a little upset."

"I should think so." She stroked the little green hunch and shook her head. "You ran away too quickly, though. You didn't see everything."

"Then you know that I was..."

"Watching? Yes."

Silence, then, "So what didn't I see?"

"I pushed him away."

"Oh."

Belle toyed with the little figure for a moment longer, then reached for the carving of her that he had been holding before. She looked at them, holding them gently in her hands, then set them on the table together. Looking up at him and smiling broadly, she felt her eyes twinkling at him. "Looks like they belong together, huh?"

"Yes." Quasimodo smiled back at her. "Yes, they do."

So Quelle happened! Lots of Quelle! Wasn't quite sure where to leave this cuz I had another scene I wanted to write, but I think it can wait till the next chapter. I'm not great at writing scenes like this but I did my best and I hope you all liked it :)

Please review.