Cyril regretted every choice he'd made in his life when he woke up the next morning. He hadn't felt safe driving himself home and hadn't felt like walking there, so crashing at the pawn shop had seemed like a good idea. He really should have called a cab, because when he woke his skin felt awful. He was itchy and he could feel cracks forming in his knees and elbows as he moved. He was going to have to take the day off from the shop and stay at home and he wasn't really looking forward to standing up, much less walking.

He let himself out of the shop and took his phone out. He needed to come up with some kind of excuse for Belle about why Chris hadn't written her the night before and he had the entire walk to his car to figure it out. He ended up telling her Chris had gone out with friends from his old fire station, and she seemmed to buy it. Although Cyril also seriously doubted that she felt well enough to think too hard about anything he had to say given how drunk she'd been when he left her at her apartment. He still needed to tell Chris what had happened, but he wasn't due back for a few days so that would hold until Cyril could get his skin back to what passed for normal.

A long bath followed by a generous helping of his cream went a long way towards making Cyril more comfortable, but there was still a tightness that he knew from experience would probably last the rest of the day and the stinging from the little tears in his skin would last a day or so longer. He knew better than to skip his nightly shower routine, but joining Belle had been too tempting an offer and it had been so long since he'd done anything for no reason other than because he had wanted to. He was suffering now, but it had been worth it and if he had it to do all over again he probably would, regardless of his crush on her. Sometimes, it was worth it to do something he shouldn't even if it did mean a little bit of discomfort later.

He put on a sweatshirt and a pair of lounge pants instead of his usual clothes and decided to spend the day puttering around the house and catching up on housework. The shop could keep, and he was in no shape to see anyone. He actually did a fairly good job of not thinking about Belle while he cleaned the sink and organized the pantry. When he went outside to water the plants, though, the sky was stupidly blue and it just made him think of her eyes. Going inside didn't help, because the smell of leather and books in his study reminded him of the library smell that always clung to her. He hoped Chris could appreciate those things once this had all played out. Oh, damn, he still had to text Chris. Maybe when all this was over he'd take a vacation someplace nice. Warm weather was supposed to be good for his skin.

She texted him a little after lunch. He'd missed their unofficial lunch date, although he'd thought about it relentlessly as the time approached. He should have let her know, but a part of him had wanted to see if she cared as much about it as she did.

Are you okay? she sent.

Yeah, just a little dehydrated after last night. Stayed home all day.

Missed you at lunch, but I get it. I wasn't exactly on time for work today.

He smiled at that message, he could only imagine how sick she must have been that morning.

Wish I could have taken care of you, he typed before deleting it quickly. That was way too intimate for their actual relationship and she didn't need to hear it.

I probably should have left you some aspirin, he said instead. Didn't want to go digging through your bathroom, though.

I appreciate the sentiment. Where'd you end up sleeping?

I stayed in the shop. There's a bed in the back.

Oh she replied, and he wasn't at all sure how to take that until she sent a second text. Next time you can crash here, if you want. The sofa pulls out.

He was completely sunk and there was absolutely no way to get out of it.

Just FYI, you've been texting Belle while you're gone. And she says she's falling in love with you. Good luck.

Chris had been looking forward to going home before he got that message. He should probably be happy that a beautiful girl was so into him, but the more he thought about it the more obvious it was that she wasn't actually into him. The one time he'd been alone with her without a script he'd gotten slapped. If Belle liked anyone, she liked Cyril. Chris was almost completely meaningless to all of this. She'd have fallen in love with anonymous letters just as easily as she had him.

He had no idea what to do, and getting back to Storybrooke didn't help a whole lot. It just made making a decision more urgent. He liked Belle fine, but the longer this went on the more he realized that it was all a lie. The plan had been terrible and they hadn't really thought through any of it all the way, and now here they were.

Belle didn't usually go to the diner until lunchtime, and Chris needed some time to think before he saw her again so he felt safe enough going for breakfast. He was stuck in his thoughts as he poked at his eggs, and didn't notice he'd sat through the rush until the waitress came over to check on him.

"You okay?" she asked, refilling his coffee and giving him a sympathetic smile. "Want me to reheat your plate?"

"Oh. It's fine," he replied, pushing the plate away. He hadn't even noticed that it was cold. "I'm not really hungry."

"Something on your mind?"

"Nothing worth talking about," he said. "You're Belle's friend, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Ruby," she said, offering her hand for him to shake. "And you're Chris."

He couldn't help smiling as he took her hand. He remembered her from the first time he'd seen Belle, now that he thought about it. She'd been the tall girl, and the one who initially caught his eye, but he'd never really spoken to her before.

"It's nice to meet you," he said. "Do I want to know how you know me?"

"I've read your letters," she said and he couldn't help but feel really disappointed in that. Just one more fan of Cyril's work.

"What did you think?" he asked hesitantly,

"They were good," she said. "Kind of frilly for my taste, but really good for Belle."

"Yeah? You think they're frilly?"

"It's just personal preference," she said. "I mean, it's nice. I just like a guy to actually say what he means, you know?"

"You're not the poetic type?"

"I have been in the past, and it's nice sometimes. I'm just old enough now that I want to know what a guy is thinking without having to guess or analyze anything. I like knowing where I stand."

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It hadn't really occurred to him how much he hated pretending to be something he wasn't until he had a woman tell him she liked the kind of guy he actually was. He didn't know what to say, but then another customer came in and she excused herself to go help them.

Belle didn't like him, and he was starting to realize he didn't like her that much either. Hell, he didn't really like himself that much when he was pretending to be what she wanted from him. He'd made a huge mistake.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked when she came back to put in the new order.

"Yeah," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have a pen and paper I could borrow, would you?"

Cyril was staring at his ledgers and pretending to work on them when his phone rang. It was Belle, and it took him a split second of panic to make sure it wasn't the fake phone number he'd been texting her from as Chris before he could answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Cyril?" she said. "Can you come over?"

She sounded upset, and he thought she might have been crying which instantly had him on edge.

"Of course," he replied as he shut his ledger and fished around for his keys to start locking up. "Is everything okay?"

"Just get here, it's important."

She hung up before he could even say goodbye, and that just unnerved him even more. It was only a short walk from his shop to Belle's apartment, but it felt like forever until he was knocking on her door. The door swung open and he saw her standing there with red-rimmed eyes and a too-big t-shirt and how could she still be so breathtaking even like that?

"Come in," she said and it was more of a demand than a request but still he followed her like a puppy until she stopped next to her table before she spoke again. "Write something."

He looked at the table and saw a legal pad and a pen, and he was about to ask her what she wanted when he noticed the love letter he'd written to her from Chris sitting nearby on top of a stack of other papers. Oh, damn.

"Belle, what's going on?" he asked. There was no way in hell he was going to sit down and actually write anything, but he could only stall for so long.

"Chris dumped me," she said, picking up a paper from underneath the letter he'd written her and holding it out to him. "I had a letter shoved under my door when I got home from work."

Cyril took the letter she'd proffered and scanned it. It was direct and simple, just like Chris, to be honest.

Belle, I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm not the man you think I am or want, and I can't keep pretending I am. You deserve better. Please let me know if their is anything I can do. Chris. PS don't be mad at Cyril, it wasn't his idea.

"Well, this is…" He was trying to think of a way to spin it that wouldn't look suspicious, but he was stuck. Aside from the fact that it actually had been at least partially his idea, the handwriting of this new note bore no resemblance at all to his own.

"So after I got that note, I pulled out my lease," Belle continued, grabbing the document from the stack and laying it down next to the original letter Cyril had written for her. It was mostly typed, but there were fields where he had written in her address and personal information and a yellow sticky note attached explaining how to get into the building and directions to her door since she didn't see the place before moving in. "Write something, Cyril."

He was caught, and they both knew it.

"Belle, I can explain."

"Oh my God," she said before he could continue. "How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!"

"We were!" He replied quickly. "We are."

"Friends don't trick friends into sleeping with other people!" she exclaimed, grabbing the love letter from where it sat, crumpling it up and throwing it at him. It bounced uselessly off his chest and hit the floor between them. "What were you thinking?"

"I just wanted you to be happy!"

"Why the hell would you think I'd be happy about being lied to?" She was full on yelling now. "You two manipulated me! You tricked me into...oh my God I was falling in love with him. Why would you do that?"

"I thought that's what you wanted!" he blurted out and instantly regretted it. He had thought she was angry before, but now she was livid. He briefly considered feigning a heart attack before deciding against it, since she'd probably just be angrier once she found out that he wasn't going to die.

"That's what you thought I wanted?" she said in a deadly calm voice. "What, precisely, is it that I wanted?"

"I don't know," he replied.

"No, really. Tell me. What exactly did I want?"

"We were trying to give you your fantasy."

"My fantasy," she said incredulously. "My fantasy is getting lied to by two people I trusted? Being made a fool of?"

"Belle…"

"No, really! I want to know. What fantasy of mine were you two getting at because I'm coming up blank."

"You had a handsome man who talks like one of the heroes in your books. You wanted to believe it was all true."

"How dare you?" she replied indignantly. "Don't you dare turn this around on me, I believed in it because you did such a good job at spinning the illusion."

"Of course, it's all my fault and not your precious Chris."

"Chris isn't here!" she shouted. "And he never could have seduced me without you."

"Well then maybe you should reevaluate your standards, since it took the two of us to be good enough for you!"

She looked stunned, and he was honestly surprised he'd said it. He couldn't deny there was a small amount of jealousy there, but the idea of letting her know it was there made him want to run off to South America and start a new life somewhere in Peru. Cyril didn't know what to do anymore, so he just watched Belle as she watched him.

"Get out," she finally hissed. His heart sank into his stomach at her words, but there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He was completely numb as he walked through the door and out of her life forever.