Okay, to answer a Guest question about regarding the first chapter: No, that was not Gaston's fantasy (but I do like your view on that). These are a series of one-shots in random order but revolving around the one story of Belle agreeing to marry Gaston after she escapes. Chapter 1 took place later into their marriage after kids and stuff.
To another Guest review (which by the way, I have never received so many guest reviews in one go) - I don't have any plans to write more/different stories of Belle/Gaston romance but never say never. I might actually take you up on your suggestion ;) Also a few points of your review are actually already chapters *hint hint* great minds
I just wanted you all to know that I have 14 chapters lined up and ready to go. There is a great possibility that there will be more chapters.
Happy Reading!
Summary: Like any fine husband, Gaston accompanied his new bride into town - her to go to the library, him to gaze into his reflection. Still, the villagers are villagers and Gaston is still Gaston.. And he is not opposed to hero time.
Number of years married: less than one year
~:~ Hero time ~:~
He stood outside the dress shop in front of the mirror, swooning at his reflection as he waited for Belle to finish up at the library. He turned his head and admired the fine frame of his face, his strong jaw, the cleft in his chin.
"No one has a swell cleft in his chin like Gaston," he said with a simple smirk. "And you are simply breathtaking. No one appreciates your beauty-" He ran his hand along the side of his face, admiring his cheekbones. "-your fine, fine beauty."
There was a commotion behind him but he could care less about the villagers and whatever shenanigans they were up to. He only cared about those luscious grey eyes of his staring back at him-
"Interrupting your ritual again," Lefou quirked, suddenly appearing beside his good friend.
Gaston flinched then grumbled. "What is it?"
"Belle at the library again?"
The taller man, still looking in the mirror and in fact hadn't turned to physically acknowledge Lefou, smoldered and admired himself. "Yes, why do you ask?"
Lefou hummed and leaned on the wall. He nodded his head toward the commotion across the square. "There's a bit of ruckus over there. Thought you might want to know about it," he shrugged.
Gaston grinned to himself - quite literally to himself - and said, without looking away from the mirror yet again, "Ruckus, you say?"
"Yes, at the library."
"A certain damsel in distress, no doubt?" he continued.
Lefou hummed his answer. He clapped Gaston's shoulder before heading off to the stables.
The man chuckled. He straightened himself and fixed his jacket, smoothing back his hair and squaring his broad shoulders. "It's hero time," he smirked at his reflection.
The voice that spoke next startled him but he was careful not to show it. But it did stop him from continuing on with his mission.
"If you had any sense to acknowledge poor Lefou, you would've seen that I've been standing beside you for the whole of your conversation." The voice held slight humor though sounded as if its owner wore a frown. "Hero time?" she said unconvincingly… or sarcastically.
"Belle!" he chuckled sharply. He turned to her, trying to act as if he had seen here there all along. "Hero time, yes! Of course, only reserved for a certain damsel in distress." He grinned widely, his hands grasping her shoulders enthusiastically.
She was not amused. She raised her eyebrow. "Damsel, Gaston?" she asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.
His arrogant chuckle continued, "Yes. My little wife, my damsel." His hands moved to hers.
She wrenched them from his grasp and stepped away from him. "Gaston," she huffed defiantly. "I am not your little wife! And I most certainly not a damsel in-"
Frantic hooves of a certain black and white horse charged down the narrow roads, flying past her faster than she could realize it and by the time she realized it, she had fallen backwards, landing in a puddle of water.
"-distress," she finished off with a disgruntled grumble.
"Lefou!" Gaston shouted after the horse in frustration. Then his frustration with his fool of a friend turned into haughty laughter as he helped Belle up. "My, my, damsel in distress indeed." He took note of her wet skirts and tugged at them. "It isn't ladylike for a woman to wear wet skirts in public-"
She snatched them away from him. "Leave them! It's not civil to remove them right now-" she grunted.
He chuckled. "We're newlyweds, the townspeople will understand!"
She rolled her eyes. "The only use of a hero you can be is to take me home where I can get out of this."
He tugged on her skirts again.
"Gaston!"
