Chapter 9 Domestic Awkwardness

All the awkwardness that he thought they had avoided so far by their deep conversation that evening, all came back with a vengeance as soon as they set foot in his tiny apartment. The first thing he mentally cursed was the clutter. While he was by nature a very neat and clean person, he had to admit that he had a problem with collecting things. While most of the things were just there temporarily, waiting to be sold to the contacts he still had in the business as well as others, he looked like he lived in a storage container instead of a small, quaint, apartment.

'You know.' Belle said, her face a mix of nerves and amusement. 'This is exactly how I would have pictured your house, or apartment rather.'

'Like an episode of hoarders?' He flinched, seeing the piles infecting every known corner.

'Oh no, like the Art and Humanities building, but more like you. See? You've got all these beautiful things set up on vintage furniture, and over here, it's almost like a little workshop-I love it.' Her words, as usual, had the ability to lift the tension he didn't even know he held. He looked around the open concept kitchen and living room with new eyes-her eyes, it seemed and he was pleasantly surprised that he did notice there was quite a pattern to how he seemed to store his vintage trinkets.

'So, um, uh-I'll show you the room, and get you something to change into-I think I even have a spare toothbrush, I'm kind of weird about keeping extras lying about.'

'Yeah' She beamed. 'I could see that too.'

'Mmm' He smirked, allowing amusement to rule over the sheer awkwardness of the woman he loved being in his home. 'You seem to have me all figured out.'

'Oh no.' She shook her head, smiling. 'Every time I figure something out, there seems to be another layer.'

'Well.' He fluttered his hands away nervously. 'I would hate to be boring.'

'Now that you could never be.' He didn't believe her, but he didn't argue. He limped towards his bedroom-the only bedroom in the place, and pulled out a pair of pajamas. While things were bursting at the seams around the house, his own personal belongings were kept at minimal levels. He wouldn't consider himself a tightwad, but he had his goals he was working towards and to achieve them would mean some sacrifice on his part. He had three sets of pajamas-of course they each were a two piece set, and identical excepting the color or pattern, and so here in a few minutes, Belle French would be matching him and he wished he could just go ahead and die from the embarrassment that would follow.

It couldn't be helped, so he put one set on the bed, and went and showed her to the tiny bathroom the apartment boasted and got out his extra toiletries he had thankfully stocked up on. Belle was visibly flustered and he started sweating thinking that something in his house had offended her, had not been enough, or that it was him that had done something wrong until she spoke, her eyes searching the small space where he lived.

'This-um-this is your bedroom, correct?'

Oh no, she didn't think…

'There aren't any more are there?' She didn't sound worried, but he felt the need to hurriedly assure her.

'Oh, I have a couch that is fairly large that I will occupy for the night.' He smiled reassuringly but did nothing to take away from the concern on her face.

'I can't make you do that!'

'It's no trouble at all. I am just sorry I don't have a spare bedroom suite to offer you to give you more privacy.' She deserved more not less than what he was offering and he was very determined that she would get only the very best his apartment offered, little though it might be.

'But, but you leg, I can't-I'll sleep on the couch, I am after all crashing your place. I sleep on the couch whenever I go over to Ruby's anyway, so I'm used to it.'

Well it wasn't going to happen here.

'You just told me that you thought I had gentleman-like manners.' Throwing her own words at her was a low blow, but it was for a good cause, he assured himself. 'What sort of gentleman would I be to let a lady sleep on the couch while I slept on a bed?'

Her eyes pleaded with him, but the rest of her body saw the determination in his face and resigned to the arrangement.

'Now just a moment and I'll get you some fresh sheets on the bed and then be out of your hair.'

'That is certainly something I can do, Robby. Tell me where they are and I'll put them on while you get ready.'

He saw her own determination and hesitantly told her where she could find them and went off to get himself ready for bed.

Everything that was habitual and done without a second thought was now analyzed for noise, time, and cleanliness. Making sure he left the bathroom as clean as he came in, not a spot of toothpaste to be found and taking about the quickest shower he could muster with his leg, taking careful pains not to slip and fall on the floor when he stepped out-something that had happened before, though thankfully only once or twice since he had taken up the place, but he didn't want to take any chances and embarrass himself any further than he probably had already.

He looked over the bathroom once more before leaving and peaked down the hall to make sure Belle didn't need any help. The door was wide open, her hair was thrown to the top of her haid, curls spilling out of the messy bun she had tried to contain it to. She was humming as she tucked in the last corner of the sheets, and she must have already changed into her pajamas, fabric swimming her tiny frame, despite his own lack of stature. He hated to disturb such a reposeful and blissful scene, but he cleared his throat to alert her of his presence and to make himself stop staring.

'Oh!' She startled, not upset that he was invading the very little privacy that had been offered. In fact, she seemed to smile as she took in the pajamas he was wearing, and the feelings of wanting to be swallowed alive presented themselves again.

'I-uh, wanted to let you know that I am finished, in the bathroom, and to see if there was anything else you might need?'

'No, thank you, you've been wonderful-I-well, I appreciate this so much, Robby.'

He shrugged and told her it was nothing really. He had never shared his space before-had never had anyone over to his space before unless you counted when he lived at the back of his little shop in the equally small living space-which he didn't-he didn't count at all. Yet, he couldn't say he was unhappy to be sharing the space with Belle, he just wished it wasn't because her father was a pile of manure, but wished it was because there was a ring on her finger and a last name that sounded an awful lot like his. He mentally shook himself at his stupidity and wished Belle a good night.

A few hours later, he mentally cursed the large grandfather clock he had procured at a great bargain a few weeks back. Why did it have to make so much noise? Not that the incessant ticking and the declaration of each passing hour was the only hindrance to his sleep-the couch was useless. His leg hissed at him for attempting to lay on it, so he had taken his chair instead and propped his legs up and slumped in the more comfortable piece of furniture. Every time he finally felt his eyelids getting heavy, his body ready to succumb to the darkness, his obnoxious clock told him he had been awake for another hour.

The last thing he remembered was hearing three dings and he must have finally gone to sleep at some point afterwards-the extra blanket he had pulled from the closet draped over him and his pillow having finally found the right place behind his neck to give him as much comfort as possible as he could be laying like he was. The next thing he knew was the smell of coffee and bacon. He opened his eyes to find Belle, still in his pajamas, the fabric hanging off of her and threatening to insert itself into whatever Belle was doing-thought it looked like she had attempted to hike it above her elbow, with very little success.

He could have stared at the scene for hours. Belle rambling about in the kitchen, the smell of breakfast wafting through the air, and her quiet hums giving the entire atmosphere a cozy and home-like quality, something his apartment had always sorely lacked, despite the amount of things he continued to accumulate. He glanced up at the clock-six thirty-he had gotten three and a half hours of sleep, though with his leg often making a protest, it wasn't entirely an unheard of amount of time for him to sleep, unfortunately.

'You're awake!' Said Belle, startling him, but coaxing a smile from her own use of one. 'I hope I didn't make too much noise. I am used to waking up early, and since I know you'll have to go to work in a couple of hours I thought I would make us breakfast.'

'You didn't have to do that.' His voice was grovely from sleep, or lack thereof, and he hated the sound of it. It didn't seem to bother Belle, at least.

'You've done so much for me, I thought I could at least do this for you, though you may have wished that I hadn't, since it seems I woke you.'

'No, no,' He brushed her worries off. 'I normally wake up around this time.' It wasn't a lie, his leg wouldn't allow him to sleep too late. 'Did you sleep alright?' he ventured, bringing his leg to the floor and trying not to wince in front of her from the stiffness it had gained. He was already dreading having to put the brace on.

'Yes! Very well. It was so nice and quiet. Ruby's place seems to be alive at all hours of the night-so many night owls! And dad's-well, can't say it's always very quiet there either.' She looked down, embarrassed, and he just wanted to pull her in and comfort her. He might would have done it too, as close as she was, and as sad as she looked, but she seemed to suddenly shake it off and replace her downcast face with a much happier one-a contented one, at least, anyway.

'Now!' She said firmly. 'You go get ready for the day, and I'll have breakfast ready for you when you come out.'

He smiled and nodded and picked up his discarded cane and hobbled to gather his clothes. It felt so weird to have the knowledge, even if he couldn't hear her from the bathroom, that there was an additional person in his living space. He was a middle aged man who had spent the last eighteen years of his life on his own, by himself. He was pleasantly surprised at how much he had enjoyed the invasion, leg throbbing from his perch in the chair and all. He would soak in every moment of this morning, as he always felt it was most likely the last time it would ever happen.

By the time he had exited the bathroom, Belle had set out a feast of bacon, eggs, toast, and jam, doubling the size of his normal breakfast, and she had already gotten the dishes in to soak in the sink. He thanked her for the breakfast, insisting that she really didn't have to do all that she did. She told him to stop saying that and eat his breakfast before it got cold. He did stop her from washing the dishes, at least, and he did them while she went and showered and put on the clothes from the day before.

He was certain that the picture of domestic bliss was coming to an end soon, and he tried not to sigh over the thought. Belle fidgeted and worried her lip and he felt like perhaps, just perhaps she didn't want it to end either. Unfortunately it wasn't for the same reason as him.

'Is everything alright, Belle?' She looked up at him, worry causing fog to cloud her eyes.

'I-I'm just-Not looking forward to going back home yet, I guess. I'm worried that dad's 'friends'' She put air quotes in the air. 'Will still be there and probably not in the best mood either. Sometimes they stay until mid afternoon before cursing their throbbing heads and lack of funds from drinking and gambling it all and finally go home.'

He hated every bit of what she had just said.

'You could go to work with me?' He suggested. 'You could hang out around your 'safe haven' -you could grab a book from around here, and then we could have lunch together and then I can take you back after work, or something? I hate to even take you back then. It-It worries me Belle.'

It had taken everything in him to say even that. He was pathetic.

She smiled and took hold of his hand.

'You aren't tired of me yet?' She half smirked and half wondered.

'I don't think I'll ever tire of your company, Belle.' He smiled and reddened at his honesty.

Her smile deepened. 'Well then, perhaps I could stay with you today and you could take me back this evening. Thanks for being concerned over me, Robby, I appreciate it. I'm hoping things at Dad's are only temporary. I just don't have the funds quite yet for anything more independent.

But try not to worry too much-most of the time, Dad just ignores me and doesn't even acknowledge my existence. He drains his money over a weekend, and doesn't have enough money to do it again for a few weeks, normally. So I should be pleasantly ignored come this evening.'

Robby shook his head at this revelation. 'I still don't like it all, Belle. C-call me-call me if you ever feel the least bit unsafe, okay?'

She nodded, a tear of gratitude flickered in her eye.

Robby added a promise to his vow-Belle would be safe, he would do everything in his power to make sure of it.