Mad props to Trudi for beta-ing this : )
A Thawing Heart
Roars of laughter and slurred words erupted from the men as they stumbled out of the small tavern. As the night wore on, more drunks left the popular tavern. After purging their night of bliss onto the streets and leaving a pungent aroma, they meandered through town in hopes of finding their way back home. Soon, Gaston and Lefou were the only ones left.
Gaston, with enormous body mass, was usually the only person in town who was able to hold his liquor. Whenever there was a competition to see who could drink the most, Gaston always won. Gaston's competitor would end up under the table, and there would be a new challenger.
Tonight was no different. Gaston seemed completely sober despite having drunk large amounts of alcohol. Lefou, never able to drink half of what Gaston consumed, was found knocked out cold on the floor drooling.
Nearby was a mug half full of beer. Gaston grabbed the beer and dumped it all over Lefou, causing him to suddenly jolt from his deep slumber. "Get up, Lefou. It's time to go home," Gaston said. For a while Lefou's glazed eyes wandered around the room and then at Gaston's face. Lefou had a puzzled look of uncertainty as though he was surrounded by mystifying objects and a large strange man.
And then, against his own will, his eyes betrayed him, and sure enough he dozed back off to sleep.
Annoyed by Lefou's disobedience, Gaston bent down and slapped him hard across the cheek. Lefou instantly sat up and raised his hand to his cheek. He delicately rubbed the area to ease the intense pain but to no avail.
The remaining few brain cells that hadn't yet been affected by alcohol told him to say awake lest he find himself pounded into oblivion. However, hard as he tried he couldn't shake off the sleepiness slowly overtaking him.
His body betrayed him once more, and he collapsed on the floor with a thud.
Owning half of the tavern, Gaston shared the responsibility of keeping an eye on it.
That meant making sure nobody was left behind when it came to closing time. Fortunately for Lefou, thinking that his stench might taint the tavern, Gaston decided to carry him home.
Angered and frustrated, he grabbed Lefou by his shirt and hurled him onto his shoulder. He flung the doors wide open and inserted the key locking up the tavern for the night.
As soon as Gaston reached Lefou's small, one-room home, he threw him onto the bed. Lefou didn't flinch one bit. He seemed dead as a rock.
Gaston glanced around the room. It looked almost as pathetic as Lefou himself, Gaston thought. There was hardly any furniture except for a bed, a table, and a chair. Near one corner stood a fireplace with small, lopsided logs beside it and in the opposite corner sat a filthy, soiled chamber pot. The walls looked dreary, completely bare of a single decoration. If he put antlers on the walls like me, this place wouldn't look so damn ugly, Gaston thought as he examined the walls with an expression of disgust on his face. Everything looked so…sad…so…peasant-ish, the only word he could think of to describe such a sight.
Tonight was a very chilly night, and Lefou's poorly constructed little home didn't do much to keep the cold from seeping through the walls. Lefou started shivering. Eyes still closed, as if it had a mind of its own his hand frantically searched the bed looking for something warm.
As Gaston was about to open the door, he unexpectedly hesitated, not knowing why, and turned around.
He stared at Lefou shivering. For some time, Gaston just stood there…observing, thinking. The wheels in his head turning, clicking…abruptly stopped. Somewhere deep inside of him, he felt something melt.
On the chair rested a tattered and frayed blanket. Impulsively, Gaston grabbed it, walked over to Lefou, and dropped it on top of him. Instantly, Lefou snatched the blanket and snuggled into it.
Noticing the fireplace, Gaston threw a few logs in it and struck the flint creating a small fire that illuminated and warmed the atmosphere of the room.
Before he left, he glanced at the room one last time. Still drab-looking but at least the fire seemed to have lightened up the room a little. He looked over at Lefou. He was cozily wrapped up in his blanket and snoring loudly. Gaston wasn't surprised to find that his snore wasn't much louder than his stomach growls.
A tiny hint of a smile crept onto his face. Although it was barely noticeable, it was an actual, authentic smile.
He turned around, slowly opened the creaking door, and carefully, very carefully closed it behind him.