Rumald shook his head, as he climbed the steps of his front porch and approached his front door, annoyed his evening with Belle had been ruined. The plan had been simple enough. Meet up with Belle, either take her to dinner or spend the evening however she wanted, and either go back to hers or bring her home with him. Instead, he had been sent home by one of the Sheriff's deputies. Under his breath, he grumbled and opened his front door. The warmth of his house welcomed him with open arms, barring the cold from entering, while he closed the front door behind him.
There was a thunk and an oof sound from the living room. Rumald moved to the opening of the living room, to see Emma sat on the couch, bent over, picking up the mess on the floor, while his son stood with his back to him, the position of his arms suggesting he was fastening his pants. Raising his hand to his forehead, he massaged the lines on his forehead, asking himself, 'How did my life get to his point?'. The thought of nearly coming home, to find his son and the Sheriff's daughter going at it in his living room, would have probably been the last straw for Rumald. It was one thing to know, his son was sexually active, as many adults were, but it would have been another thing to see it.
"Hey dad, we weren't expecting you back so soon!" Neal said loudly, beaming a smile at his father after he had turned round, but his smile soon fell at the sight of Rumald. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing, I couldn't handle." Rumald used the hand, that had been massaging his forehead, to wave off Neal's concern and dropped his hand to his side.
Emma was giving him a questioning look. "Have you been in a fight?"
"Have I been in a fight?" Rumald's tone dripped with sarcasm. "No, no. This is the new craze, torn shirt."
Neal cautiously approached his father. "Dad, are you okay?"
"Just peachy." Rumald told him and then motioned to the mess in the living room with his finger. "And I'll be even peachier, when you two have cleaned up your mess. Do I need to remind you, that this is my house?"
"Okay, dad… We'll sort this out…" Neal was arm's length away from his father, when he reached out to touch his father, his gaze split between Rumald's face and big gaping hole in Rumald's shirt. "Are you okay, though?"
Rumald conceded at his son's genuine concern, bracing a weak smile for his son, as he said. "Yes, I'm fine."
Neal frowned at his father's shirt, touching the torn material. "What happened, dad?"
"Don't worry about it." Rumald waved off Neal's hand and stepped back, putting distance between himself and his son. "I'm going to get a drink and go to my study. I'm sorry." He told them, realising he was taking his mood out on them. "I didn't mean to interrupt your evening, for a second time. Look, just pretend I'm not here."
"Dad, you don't need to hide yourself away, because of us." Neal motioned to himself and Emma, glimpsing back to Emma, who nodded in agreement.
"Mr Gold, by all means, join us." She offered, waving her hand to the couch.
Rumald shook his head. "I've got work to do. Honestly, just get on with your evening."
"Are you sure?" Neal asked.
"Yes, son." Rumald touched his son's shoulder. "I'm fine."
Neal gave his father one last hard look and then went back into the living room, joining Emma in tidying up the popcorn and other bits on the rug. Sighing, Rumald looked dejectedly at the tear in his shirt before he rolled his eyes, and set off for the kitchen, to collect a bottle of beer from fridge and headed upstairs, to the sanctuary of his study.
The study was on the third floor of his house. At the top of the stairs, Rumald drank from his beer and flicked the light switch, surveying the open planned floor, when the lights had illuminated the space. A couple of months after Milah had left him, he had thrown himself into a project, transforming the top floor of his house into a library/study area for himself. When they had bought the house, the plan had been to convert the top floor into a studio for Milah, so she could start painting again, like she had done before they had moved to America. He casted his gaze over the numerous bookcases, lining the walls of the room. The bookcases were mostly filled with research books for Rumald, with only a few bookcases reserved for books of fiction and books that had piqued Rumald's interest over the years.
Walking from the top of the stairs to the doorway of his study, Rumald began to unbutton the ruined shirt, pulling it out, from the waist of his jeans as he walked. A quick flick of his hand at the light switch, when he was in his study, lit the room, while he headed to his desk to set down his bottle of beer. Stripping his shirt from his arms, Rumald gave it one more look, inspecting the rip, and tossed the shirt into the trashcan, near his feet. He stood there, looking down at the sore reminder, of how his evening had ended.
Rumald sighed heavily as he stepped by the desk, putting on the shirt, he had collected on his way upstairs, and sat down into his leather office chair. He tapped the keys of his keyboard, waking up his computer, and began buttoning up his shirt. There was a red icon next to his email, indicating he had twenty-four emails waiting for him. Taking hold of his mouse, Rumald selected his mailbox icon and scanned through the subjects of his emails. He deleted them as he went through them, leaving the ones he needed to address, and opened the one from Rachel, marked important. Reading her email, Rumald squinted his eyes at it, seeing nothing that would make him think it should be marked important. She was only inquiring, if he was going to be at the opening tomorrow night. With a sharp click, he deleted her email, wanting nothing more to do with her, which did not involve business.
Rolling onto his left hip in his chair, he took his phone out from pocket, and unlocked to bring up his list of contacts. He lounged back into his chair, lifting his right leg to cross over his left, and traced his fingertip along the edge of his desk, while he selected to call the Mayor.
The Mayor answered after the fourth ring. "What can I do for you, Rumald?"
"I do love it, when you get straight to the point." Rumald jested.
"I'm in the middle of a game." The Mayor told him, sternly.
Rumald found a nick in the edge of his desk and repeatedly rubbed his finger over it, as he said. "I want to know, what happened to Regina's booking at the town hall."
"Oh, that." The Mayor was flippant. "It's a clerical error."
Taking his finger away from the nick, Rumald turned in his chair, looking out the large window onto the forest at the back of his house, shrouded in darkness, with the moon lighting up the sky. "Now, I know Arlene, and she doesn't make mistakes."
"Rumald, it was clerical error." The Mayor insisted.
"You know, as well as I do, that you're talking a load of shit." Rumald told him.
"I've no idea what you're talking about." The Mayor dismissed Rumald's accusation.
Rumald rubbed his fingers over his chin, prickling his fingers with his beard, and said. "I've got a seeking suspicion, that Cora Mills has been whispering in your ear, Trevor."
"How did… No, no. I haven't spoken to Cora in years." The Mayor's blunder caused Rumald to smirk.
"So, what's she offered you?" Rumald asked. "Money? Favours? Sexual favours?"
"Sexual? You realise that's your ex you're talking about?" The Mayor inquired.
"Exactly, I know what's she capable of." Rumald shared with the Mayor, whilst hearing at the same time, the front doorbell ring downstairs.
"Look, Rumald, it's done. There's nothing, I can do to change it now." The Mayor stated, calling an end to their conversation.
Rumald shook his head. "No, there is something you can do about it."
"What?" The Mayor asked bluntly.
"You can undo, whatever you've done." Rumald told him, swivelling round in his chair to lean onto his desk. "Regina has helped out this community, more than her mother ever has. Your loyalty should lie with her, especially if you want your little secret to stay that way."
The Mayor made a noise before Rumald heard him excuse himself, and said in a hushed, strained voice. "Rumald, you promised!"
"And that's how much this means to me! If you break this deal with Regina, and I'll break my deal with you!" Rumald warned, with his eye catching movement outside of his study.
"Rumald, I seriously, I can't get out of this with Cora. You have to understand. I can't refuse her. The only thing, I could do for Regina, is to give her back her deposit, even if it is non-refundable." The Mayor pleaded with Rumald, while he watched Belle and Neal, stood near the top of the stairs, talking with Neal gesturing to the room.
Rumald tore his gaze away from them, and stabbed his finger at his desk, saying to the Mayor. "Believe me, dearie, I understand. Once she gets her crawls into you, you'll never get them out again."
Through the open doorway of his study, Rumald eye was caught again by Neal and Belle, as his son waved Belle in the direction of the study, with the Mayor saying into Rumald's ear. "So, if you understand, you won't break our agreement then?"
"I'll think about it." Rumald said and ended the call, hearing the Mayor's desperate plead as he did.
Putting his phone down onto his desk, Rumald looked up to see Belle stood in the doorway of his study. He sat back into his chair, attempting to determine whether she had come to end it to his face. It would not be his shortest relationship, but it was hurt considerably more than any of them had before. His heart was already tearing itself apart in his chest. The pain creased his brow, while he sat waiting for her to plunge the knife in his chest, ending his turmoil.
Belle stepped into his study, asking him. "Are you okay? Gaston didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Not really." He shrugged a single shoulder at her. "Just ruined a hundred-dollar shirt."
"I'll replace it." She insisted with her gaze on the trashcan, containing his ruined shirt.
"No, you won't." He shook his head at her, smirking at her ridiculous offer.
Her hands clamped down onto her hips, as she further insisted. "Rumald, this is all my fault. You shouldn't have to pay for what I did."
"I'm not bothered about the shirt." Rumald diverted his gaze away from her. "Look, just say what you've come here to say."
Her stance remained the same, while she squinted her gaze at him. "What'd mean?"
He could not bring himself to look at her, as he spoke to her, waving a hand to indicate himself. "I'd rather, we just get this over and done with. I've got work, I could be getting on with."
Belle had a confused look on her face. "Get this over and done with…? What are you talking about?"
"I can understand, if you don't want to see me anymore." Rumald let his gaze drift round to her.
"Don't want to see you?" Belle repeated part of his statement, and then advanced to his desk, telling him. "Rumald, I'm not here to break up with you. I'm here to see, if you're alright. I was worried, when you weren't outside the bar or at the Sheriff's office. Why would I want to break up with you?"
"I… I just thought…" Rumald stammered his words out.
She crouched down, next to his chair, resting her hands on the arm of his chair. "Do you think, that I'm going to break up with you, over a stupid fight with my ex? Is your opinion of yourself that low?"
He was at a loss for words, angling his head to see her knelt beside him, hitting him with the truth of her words. There was no denying it – Belle was right. How could he think, that she would break up with him over a meaningless fight with Gaston? The question plagued him, as he turned his face away from her, bowing his head down in front of him. No matter how much he had accomplished, how much he had gained, and how far he had come – Rumald still felt like the little boy, left on his aunts' step, watching his dad drive away. With his life full of people abandoning him, it was easier to suspect everyone would do it. Sooner or later, they left him for their various reasons.
Belle claimed his hand from his desk, and stroked her thumb over the back of his hand, telling Rumald. "I could never imagine leaving you. Not when we've just gotten together."
"You deserve better." He mumbled with his gaze fixed on his lap.
"Rumald, I'm not interested in having something better." She reached for his face and turned his head to make him look at her. "I already have better. I have you."
Cupping her hand, touching his face, Rumald turned his face in her hand and kissed the palm of her hand, touched by her kind words. It was hard to believe them. All of his life, he had been treated no better than a criminal, judged before he had a chance to prove himself. It had been hard, growing up under the stigma of his father, condemned to be a coward.
"I'm sorry." He yielded to her, showing her weakness. "Seeing the look you gave me and then not answering the phone, I just thought the worse."
She squeezed his hand. "I didn't answer, because I was contending with Gaston's date."
Frowning, Rumald turned his gaze back to Belle. "What?"
"She felt the need, to tell me, how I've ruined Gaston's life." Belle shared with him, smirking at the idea.
"Right…" He said unsurely. "Like I believe that."
"Well, she does." Belle chuckled before she carried on to tell him. "So much so, that Ruby had to get between us, when she started shoving me."
"Excuse me?" Rumald raised his eyebrows in shock.
Belle let out a short laugh. "Yeah, we both nearly got into fights tonight."
"Not exactly, how I wanted our night to go." Rumald confessed.
"Definitely memorable." She commented, smiling at him.
"I suppose." He agreed with her, taking her hand down from his face, to cradle it between his hands.
A solemn look came over her face, when she said to him. "Why do you have such a low opinion of yourself?"
The pain of reliving every moment, baring himself to her, seemed to high of an obstacle for him to get over. He did not want to tell her the truth. He wanted her to believe in the hard man, who was unafraid and got what he wanted. Not the snivelling little boy, wiping stray tears from his face. He clenched his eyes shut to the memory.
"What's the matter?" Belle asked, reaching to touch his face with her other hand, and grasped at his hands, holding her other hand.
"Nothing." He lied as he opened his eyes, bracing a full blown smile for her.
"Rumald, I can see it in your face, that something's upsetting you." She told him, caressing his face.
He breathed in, filling his lungs. The look she was giving him, was foreign to Rumald. No one had ever looked at him like that. Not Milah, nor Cora. Neither of them, had cared enough about him, to want to know the inner thoughts that plagued him. Neal was barely aware of Rumald's childhood. The memories he had shared with his son, had been streamlined to happier moments, cutting away all of the sadness and guilt, he had endured over the years, for things he had and had not done. In Belle's eyes, he could see she was keen to know, pleading with him, with a gentle smile. Nonetheless, sharing the memories with her, which had made him so dark, was not something he planned to do, as yet.
Jolting his head with a thought, Rumald lifted his hand to point at the doorway. "Let me show you my library."
"What?" Belle questioned, shocked by the change in conversation.
"Come with me." He genuinely smiled, taking hold of her hand, while he swivelled in his chair to face her and stood up.
Clasping a hand at her elbow, Rumald helped her to stand with their close proximity, and then used his hand on her elbow to guide her back to the doorway. She gave him a questioning look, but did not resist him. He led her through the doorway in front of him, quickly following her through it, and motioned to his vast collection of books. There was no distracting her. Belle studied his face, whilst he ambled away from her, hoping she would follow him, deeper into the room.
"What'd you think?" Rumald asked, holding his hands out, gesturing to his library.
Her eyes were slits, as she gazed at him, easily seeing through his ploy to distract her. A few short seconds passed, and then Belle gave a short shake her of her head at him, opening her eyes to survey his library. Drawing in his hands to his chest, Rumald let out a quiet breath, grateful she had let their conversation in his study die. Her gaze ran over the bookcases lining the walls, the sitting area, he had in the middle of the space, and the large table, where he had maps of Storybrooke and surrounding areas laid out.
"It's…" Belle took a couple of steps from his study door. "It's beautiful. There's so many books here, I doubt I could read them in my lifetime."
Rumald smiled. "The majority of them are for research." He waved his hand to the bookcases on his left, lining the wall to his study. "These are all fiction. Some biographical. A few history books."
"What are those?" She motioned to the other side of the room.
"That side is the research side. Books on antiques and various other things. Several bookcases with my law books." Rumald disclosed to her, stepping round to see that side of the room.
"It isn't, how I imagined it would be." She confessed to him.
Twisting at his waist to see her, now stood beside him, he said. "What did you expect?"
"Nothing this big." Belle chuckled. "Just like… A converted bedroom or something."
"I bought the house, planning to do something with the space. Otherwise, we would have had several unused rooms up here." He shared with her, while admiring the look on her face.
Her eyebrows rose, creasing lines into her forehead, as her shoulders lifted slightly and fell, with her saying. "I could only dream of having a library like this."
There was an underlying tone to her voice as she spoke. A hint of jealousy, mixed with a pout of her lips. The left corner of his lips turned up at the look on her face, finding her protruding bottom lip cute. Angling his head to the side, studying her beauty, Rumald knew, he would gladly give his library to her. He would give her everything and the world, if it would secure her happiness. Even with that thought in mind, Rumald could not extend the offer to her, wishing to share his library with her, not with things between them so new. The weaker side of him, would gladly grovel at her feet, welcoming her with open arms, offering his heart on a silver platter. However, the hardened side of him, the side which had grown from all the heartache and backstabbing, he had endured over the years, wanted to bury his heart deep in the woods, so no one could get it.
"Here," Rumald turned round, pointing to the top shelves of the fiction bookcases. "You'll probably find these interesting."
She followed his actions, pivoting round to see what he was showing her. "What's that?"
"Come over here." He put his arm around her, guiding her closer to the bookcases.
Belle titled her head up, looking at the smirk on his face. "What?"
"Hang on." Rumald held up his hand to her, before skipping a couple of steps over to get the antique steps, he had saved and reconditioned years ago. "Here." He rolled the steps over to her and gestured for her to go up the steps. "Top shelf."
She gave him a questioning look, but a wicked smile soon replaced it, as she climbed the steps, mindful of her heels. Unlike Rumald, Belle had to climb to the top step, to be able to reach the top shelve. Standing at the bottom step, Rumald held onto the antique steps, steadying it for Belle and safely trapping her within his arms. She glanced down at him, a bemused look on her face, and then selected one of the novels from the shelf. While her hand cradled the spine of the book, Belle flicked open the book, reading the title page of the book.
"Sense and Sensibility. First edition." Belle read out loud, then looked down at Rumald. "First edition?"
Rumald smiled up at her. "Every top shelf, of these bookcases." He pointed to the bookcases, he was referring to. "Have first editions."
"Really?" She put the book back and pulled out another, quickly flicking to the title page to read it. "A first edition of The Talented Mr Ripley." And then read the spines of the books remaining on the shelf. "Nineteen Eight-Four, The Time Machine, The Hound of the Baskervilles… Aren't these all really rare books?"
"Mmm…" He murmured in agreement, letting his gaze travel down her dress to the beginning of her legs.
Belle returned the book to the shelf, her gaze to the next bookcase, as she said. "These must be worth a fortune."
"A grand or two." Rumald traced the back of Belle's thigh to the back of her knee.
"More like thousands." She remarked, pulling a book from the shelf, to inspect it. "These are pristine."
Examining the beginning of the curve of her calf muscle, the tip of his tongue slipped out between his lips, and licked at his top lip. His breath quickened, as he slowly reached out his finger, giving into his temptation to touch her. The tip of his finger lightly touched the top of her calf. Glancing up, Belle's nose was buried deep inside one of the books. Rumald grinned. Lowering his gaze to his finger, ever so softly, he leisurely traced his fingertip down the back of her leg. For so long, he had only been able to fantasise this, touching and caressing her in the hope of driving her mad with passion. His eyes flicked up to her face, to see she was squinting at the book in her hand, cradling it in her hand, while her finger followed something on the pages.
"Rumald, these must be decades old, but they look…" She thought for a brief moment, lifting her finger from the page as she did, and said. "Perfect."
"I knew, you'd appreciate them." Rumald shared, while his finger neared her ankle.
Belle angled the book, to be flat in front of her, studying the side view of the spine. "There's no marks… No small tears…. No sign that anyone has ever read this book."
"Which makes it very rare and expensive, indeed." He told her, retracing the path his finger had taken down her leg.
She asked, while returning the book to the shelf. "Are they all the same condition?"
"Oh, yes." Rumald glimpsed up to her. "Very much so."
"I want to read all of them, but I don't want to touch them." Contrary to what she had said, her hands were splayed over the spines of the books, eyeing up her next victim.
"You're more than welcome to read them." He offered with his finger stopping at the top of her calf.
Belle's eyes gaped wide open. "Rumald," She bent her head to look down at him. "These are precious! They need preserving, not reading. You should keep them locked away."
Rumald shook his head at her, whilst he lazily followed the curve her calf again, adding another finger. "Books were created to be enjoyed, sweetheart. Not to be held prisoner."
"If they were mine, they'd in a glass cabinet, where no one could touch them." She shared with him, her eyes running over the spines of the books in front of her.
His lips spread into a wide smile. "It's not like, I let the whole of Storybrooke use my library."
"It's a good job too!" She exclaimed above him. "You'd have books coming back with pages missing, graffiti and coffee stains. And that's just the adults!"
"I doubt they'd do that to my books." Rumald angled his head to the side, as his fingers reached her ankle again.
"What makes you say that?" Belle asked, as she suddenly grabbed the end of the shelf, steadying herself, when Rumald began to drag his fingernails up her leg.
Titling his head up again, in a sinister tone, he said. "Because I'd break their legs, dearie."
Under his fingers, Rumald felt a shudder down her leg, whilst she sucked in her lower lip to bite it. Her eyes slowly closed before she leaned into the bookcase. Bemused by her reaction, he crooked an eyebrow. Above him, he heard her quietly moan, with his fingernails ending their travel at the back of her knee.
Changing tact, Rumald splayed his hand on her thigh, and caressed his hand up her leg, sliding his hand effortlessly under her dress. Her muscle tensed under his touch. Grinning at the physical response to his touch, he skimmed his hand round to the back of her leg, while the hem of her leg drew tighter over his arm. Belle moaned, resting her forehead against the shelf. His eyes flashed wider, when his fingertips touched the material of her underwear. Rumald's heart was pounding in chest, daring him to go further, spurred on by his darkness wanting more. Crawling his fingers at her underwear, he captured the fabric of her underwear with his fingers, and brought them down her legs, scratching his fingernails into her skin as he did. Belle let out a moan. He flicked his gaze up to Belle's face, her eyes were still closed, and her top teeth buried deep into her lower lip.
"Like that?" He asked in a sultry voice.
"Mmm…" She purred.
At the hem of her dress, Rumald's hand came out, drawing her underwear down with it. Her underwear went limp and dropped further down her legs. He smirked at her underwear pooled at her feet. Taking hold of her waist, Rumald turned her to face him, lifting his gaze to face, running his eyes over her body as he did. He knew, he was blessed to have her here with him, which was why, he wanted to worship every inch of her. Gliding his hands down her dress, from her waist, he stopped when his hands reached her thighs, and used his hands to hike up her dress.
"What if…" Belle sounded nervous.
Kneeling his left knee onto a step, bringing him closer to her, he asked. "What if…?"
"What if Neal" She drew in a sharp breath, at Rumald placing a hot kiss on her left thigh. "Or if Emma come up here?"
"They won't." Rumald crooned, his lips whispering his words against her leg.
His hands travelled higher, forcing her dress to follow, revealing her sex to him. He kissed higher on her right thigh, paying as much attention to either thigh. Pouting his lips, he blew his warm breath over her sex, causing her to squirm and grab at his hair on the top of his head. So close to her centre, he kissed at the edge of her right thigh.
"Rumald." She moaned his name, a hint of fear in her voice.
He kissed her again. "Yes…?"
"We can't do this here." Belle told him.
"Okay, sweetheart." Rumald suddenly grabbed at the back of her knees, pulling her legs either side of his chest, and hauled her off the steps. "We'll do it over here."
"What?!" She let out a scream, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, while Rumald carried her over to the sitting area, in the middle of the room.
How he carried Belle, put her bare chest in front of him. Not wasting the opportunity, Rumald kissed at the top of her breasts, hungrily nipping at her skin between kisses. She wrapped her arms around his head and clasped at his hair with her fingers. Biting her slightly harder, Rumald was rewarded with her yanking his head, using his hair to do it. He grinned at her. Shaking her head with a smile, Belle grabbed his face and kissed him, moulding their lips into a soldering kiss.
