He shouldn't have told her about the book. She had, quite literally, been reading Gone With the bloody Wind all day. As hard as he tried at the start of the week to pry her off of him, now that she was totally absorbed in her book, he missed her sourly.
She sat on the sofa, lost in her pages. Gold eyed her greedily. Her neck was so deliciously exposed, and he couldn't help but sit beside her and trail her skin with kisses.
"Gold," she sighed gently.
"Yes, my pet?"
"I need to finish my page."
He receded, pouting. "What part are you on?"
"They're dancing," she said.
Gold watched her blue eyes run along the sentences eagerly. After a while, he stood up and turned on the radio. Slow, wordless music filled the room.
"Wouldn't you rather live it?"
Belle put down her book. Beaming, she adopted a Southern accent. "Oh why Rhett, I simple couldn't. The scandal will send all of Storybrooke into a civil war."
He offered her his hand. "Frankly, Dearie, I don't give a damn."
Giggling at their corniness, Belle accepted his offer. Together they swept across the room. He limped, of course, but he managed to do it in tune with the music.
With her arms around his neck, she let her hands play with the tips of his long hair.
"So, it's not Rhett?" she asked. "What about Reggy?"
"Nope," he said.
Her fingers ran the length of his neck. "Just tell me so that I can kiss you."
"Belle," he said, and it was almost a whisper. "If you left here, you could do so much better than me. My beautiful little minx, don't you know that you could have anyone?"
A little crease appeared between her eyes. It took her a moment, but finally she said, "No one else in this town, or anywhere I suspect, is like you. You're…like a mystery, a puzzle. And every little piece I find just makes the whole picture more beautiful."
"But Belle…"
"And I know, I know what everyone will say about us—that I'm a stupid child and you're a manipulative monster. But that's only because they don't see the picture I see."
They had stopped dancing. And Gold could feel her body pressing against his, warm and gentle and pure.
"But I am a monster," he admitted.
"Well then I love you anyway," she said defiantly.
And now Gold could no longer hear the music, could no longer see anything but her, or feel anything thing but his thunderous heartbeat. He leaned down and, slowly, brushed his lips against hers.
He retreated instantly, and caught sight of her smile before backing away and limping as fast as he could until he reached his room.
Belle was left alone in the living room as the door slammed shut.
….
Gold remained in his room for the rest of the night, damning himself for his foolishness. Of course, she didn't love him. She was a young girl; she was a child, and what she loved was only a fantasy, a fake front that he had created a long time ago. But not him. No, never him.
He had been too eager, too greedy. And their first kiss was lost and she would never remember.
He inhaled deeply and lay back on the bed.
He intended to fall asleep, but instead, he found himself counting the little indents on the ceiling. It was his gift for details that kept him going. He occupied his mind by counting up to 1340 before his eye drifted shut.
He slept for hours, and he did not dream.
He woke with a start sometime later when the door to his room creaked open. The lights flickered on and Gold sat up quick enough to send pain radiating through knee.
Belle stood in the doorway—her pale yellow night gown flowing effortlessly off her body, her hair a matted mess, and her eyes wide and bloodshot.
"I'm sorry to—to disturb you, but I just thought of a name," she stuttered. "Is it, Rumple?"
Gold's words felt caught in his throat as he stood up. Finally, he managed to whisper, "you've guessed it, Dearie."
Belle's eye rounded and then, instantly, her face contorted with anger. "I've been up all night, trying to convince myself that these memories were fake! Trying to stay sane so that I wouldn't end up back in that god damn asylum that you let me rot in all those years!" Tears of frustration started streaming down her checks and she paced the room. "Then you make me—make me fall in love with you all over again? After casting me off the first time I tried? Leaving me confused, trapped. You, you monster, Rumplestilskin."
"Belle, I'm sorry," he managed to whisper.
"Why would you—"
"I didn't know. I thought—" as he took a step forward to reach out to her, a searing pain shot up his knee. Yelping, he dropped back onto to the bed. "Belle, I love you. I do."
She hesitated, watching as he stretched out his leg while wincing in discomfort.
"Let me explain?" he pleaded.
"Fine," she said. She sat beside him on the bed. "Start at the top. How'd you hurt this damn knee?"
"Oh, that. I was in the first ogre's war," he began slowly. "I had no choice, of course, and quite frankly I wasn't much of a solider. I managed to stay alive, thinking mostly of my boy. Baelfire, his name was. But they were dropping like flies. We might as well have been flies to those monstrous things…"
Belle's eyes took him in completely, hanging on every heavily-accented word.
"One of the battles, I—I saw them coming just around the hill. And I ran. Took a horse, and ran. The rest of my group…"
Belle waited patiently as he recalled the event.
"They were all killed. This," he gestured toward his knee, "was my punishment."
"What happened next?" Belled whispered.
"Word spread, and my name became dirt among the villagers. My wife left me, which of course pained me worse than any blow to my knee. But it had been an arranged marriage anyhow, and I still had my boy." He closed his eyes, and Belle took the opportunity to begin massaging his hurt knee. She easily fingered the mutilated knee through the soft fabric of his pajamas.
"But the war called for more… Bae, that's what I call him, was about to turn of age to fight when I became, well, what you've known."
"And you lost him? To the war?"
"No, I… the curse fell upon me. It was unexpected but useful, and I ended the war before anyone could lay a finger on my boy. But he wanted the curse to be broken for the same reasons as you, I suppose."
"Because it altered you, filled you with darkness," Belle said. Her hand on his leg felt soothing and warm, and it stretched passed the knee—along his shin and slightly higher up his thigh.
"So he obtained great magic that would take us here…" he looked in pain, though not from his injury. "And again, my cowardice cost me. He was so brave, so heroic, my boy… he used the magic and I was too afraid to follow. And I lost him. Then, I lost you. And The Queen had told me you were dead."
Belle gasped. "So that's why I was in the hospital?"
"And that's why I never found you." For the first time in a long while, he looked her in the eye. "So when I discovered you, I thought that maybe if you loved me, we could break the curse…"
A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "You fool," she said, "I've been in love with you all this time. You didn't need to wait this long to kiss me."
Her hands slid up his chest, his neck, until she was cupping his face.
"Left over traces, I suspect, from the past life."
"Doubting yourself again?" she said. "Maybe I just really, really love you no matter what situation we're in."
He wrapped his arms protectively around her. "And I love you."
"So… I believe we've made a deal."
As he had promised, Gold leaned down. Their mouths met effortlessly. From there, it was all eager lips and warm, sweet breath. And their holds on each other tightened.
"Do you forgive me?" he mumbled against her lips. She didn't reply, but instead sought access into his mouth with her tongue. Willingly, he complied.
It wasn't long before she was falling back onto the bed, pulling him on top of her. Little gasps escaped her mouth with every heavy kiss along the throat. And as pajamas shed off, promises were exchanged. To love him forever, to give her everything she'll ever need, to find his son…
And, most of all, to share their happily ever after.
Hey guys! I miss hearing from you all! Please tell me what you think and what you thought of the big (SPOILER) reunion.