Chapter Eighteen: How to Punish Will
Will Scarlett was blocking Belle's way. She gave an irate snort.
"You know Rumple is an old brute." He grinned at her and whistled. "I'd be a better mate. I'm young. I'm fit. I'm chiseled." He gestured at his chin then flexed his muscles. "I'm hot."
"You're about as interesting as an old sock," Belle quipped darkly.
Will chuckled. Puffing out his chest, he remarked, "You know you want some of this."
"No. I want to get in my library."
"So, Belle, if you were a lesbian, would you go for Regina, Ingrid, Snow, Emma, or Ruby?"
Belle eyeballed Will with open disgust. "What kind of question is that?"
"Beats me. I want them all!" he uttered proudly.
"You're a perv."
He laughed cruelly. "You too, Belle, of course, so don't be jealous," he urged, reaching to touch her cheek with his forefinger. She swatted his hand away. "I know why Whale is into Ingrid," he added tonelessly but with a twist at the end of her name, as if he hoped she'd ask. His eyes leered at her, beseeching her to bite. Dying to spew his feelings into open air.
"Okay," Belle muttered unenthusiastically, hoping he'd get the hint that she didn't want a one-way ticket into his brain. She'd rather the officer give her a speeding ticket.
Technically, Will was probably only harassing her because he was lonely, but then the saying was "pick on someone your own size". What he was doing—whether he was lonely or not—was not amusing. Belle didn't go around picking on little boys when she was lonely and telling them, "One day, you'll be cute! All the girls will want you then, but you poor thing need jammies now," or some such nonsense. She rolled her eyes to herself imagining it.
Nah, she decided, staring with hawk eyes at Will's feverishly amused expression. He didn't look even vaguely lonely. That was just her trying to comprehend why on earth Will would think it was cool to behave like a complete nimrod.
"It's because," Will asserted callously, running his hand down his chest with sparkling eyes as if he were fiddling with a tie. Oh boy, Belle thought to herself, wishing she had the power to tune this drivel out. "She's well-endowed." He beckoned at his pecs.
Suddenly, Belle brightened. "I forgot! I have something for you," she cooed. "In the library."
Perking up, Will asked, "What is it?"
"Cranberry muffins!"
Deflating, Will grumbled, "I was hoping you'd give me a peek down your blouse."
Belle wrinkled her nose at him. "That's sexual harassment. Would you like me to report you?"
"What?" He gestured widely with his hands. "You're a babe. If you've got a present for me, of course I hope you're letting me play doctor."
"You know what? I don't want you to come in with me." Belle flicked his forehead. "I'd like you to wait right here." She pointed beside the door. "In fact, you're officially banned from the library."
With laughter in his eyes, Will asked, "On what grounds?"
"I don't want to call Prince Charming on you, but if you say one more thing that makes me yearn to cut off my ears, I most certainly will."
"Ah. That's serious." But he chuckled.
Belle rolled her eyes and unlocked the library. She enacted a spell that made the entrance like a brick wall for Will alone.
Of course, he tried to follow her and bashed his nose on thin air so bad that it bled. This only made him laugh like a hyena.
His inane laughter made Belle raise her eyebrows at the ceiling. She hoped Will didn't consider himself a man. He was shallow-minded enough to imagine women have no substance. From the way his laughter bounced off his lungs, she could tell while he didn't see women as belongings—hard to when he wanted more than one—he also didn't take them seriously.
Not that she expected him to reap more respect upon men.
The back of her neck became slick with sweat. She hadn't left the air-conditioner on all night, and the July heat had leapt into the library. She went straight to the air-conditioner and turned it to a decent temperature to keep her from perspiring but also not low enough to make her shiver.
As she strode to her desk, she thought to herself how, when she was a kid, all she wanted was to be taken seriously by adults. So she tried to obtain as much knowledge as possible in her quest to prove herself valid.
Now, as she reached in her desk, she saw how stupid that quest was. Other people didn't matter. If they sensed you needed their approval—it didn't matter in what way, whether it was to believe you were smart or strong or kind—they used it to their advantage.
She needed no one's approval now, least of all, Will's.
Still it made her smile brighter, as she plucked out the vial full of dark green liquid, to know Rumple would love this.
She sprinkled the contents of the vial on one cranberry muffin in the basket on her desk before returning the vial and locking it. Then she grabbed the muffin and left her perch.
The only part of her body she stuck out the doorway was her arm.
To Belle's delight, Will took a bite.
After polishing off the muffin, Will tossed the wrapper on the ground and licked his fingers.
As he walked off, his vision wavered, turning the street temporarily blurry.
He thought nothing of it, but as he neared his workplace, he blinked. When he opened his eyes, the world was as dark as if he were in a cramped black tunnel.
Wow, that witch made him fall asleep for hours without realizing it. Cute. Why would she think it'd matter if she did that? She was probably asleep in bed now, a sexy smirk on her lips.
Will turned his head with his eyes wide open. He found it utterly bizarre that he couldn't make out the faintest light or see his hand. Which he held up to eye level.
Should it really be this dark?
"Yo, Will," a voice said. Will recognized it as Friar Tuck. "What's with you? You look positively bewildered."
The man had nocturnal vision. Will wiped his hand on his back pockets and shifted backwards nervously. "Nothing. What are you doing up so late?"
"Late?" Friar Tuck repeated warily. Will couldn't see it, but Friar Tuck lifted his spectacles at Will and ogled him with concern before replacing them. "I suggest you cut back on the rum. It's seven-thirty in the morning, lad."
"What?"
"Yeah."
Suddenly frightened, Will bleated, "I can't see a bloody thing!"
"Ah. Regina cursed you, eh? I don't know how many times I've tried to tell her an eye for an eye leaves the world blind. She doesn't listen. Sorry."
Crossing his eyes, Will grumbled, "Not her. The prude."
"Belle? Oh, she'd never—"
"Are you callin' me a liar?"
Friar Tuck thought for a minute. "No. It'd make more sense to accuse Regina if you were lying. People can be surprising, and you know what? Rumple is evil. Maybe he tainted Belle's mind. Or he's the culprit and masqueraded as Belle." Enjoying this theory, Friar Tuck smacked his hands together in a clap.
Grabbing the collar of Friar Tuck's robe with his teeth gnashed, Will growled, "I don't care how it happened! All I care is, I'm blind now! If this is bloody permanent, I'll never be able to ogle another woman's shapely legs appreciatively!"
Friar Tuck wrenched free of Will's grip then smoothed down his robes. "Might be temporary. Don't get excited."
But it wasn't. Belle had permanently damaged Will's sight. For she knew half his sexist remarks would flee without the motivation of sight.
If it'd been temporary, Will would resume his full-fledged sexism the moment his sight returned. And the point of making him blind in the first place was so that no lady would be forced to see his disgusting leer again.
