"Rumple teaches belle how to spin (cotton not gold)"
She always had loved to watch him spin.
In her earlier days at the Dark Castle, she would peer over her book, watching him spin from afar. She loved the way his expression melted from his usual gleeful, teasing leer to an intense, concentrated gaze. His fingers worked deftly, so much so that she often wondered if he could ever fall asleep at the wheel, resuming his spinning even as he dozed.
She had grown bolder as her feelings grew for him, daring to sit behind him on the ground, her skirts gathered about her as she watched him. She always feared he wouldn't be able to concentrate with her there, and yet his shoulders slouched even more than usual with her presence.
She recalled her first night home with him after the curse broke, waking to expect his arms to still be gripped ever so tightly around her in his sleep. She searched restlessly for him, finally noting him in the basement of the small garage outdoors, spinning.
Belle quickly had moved inside of the garage, hurrying down the stairs to stare at him with an open mouth.
He was spinning cotton. He paused completely, an expression of complete guilt washing over his face. "Belle, I'm so sorry, I just needed to..."
He stopped speaking as she sat at his side, carefully resting her cheek on his knee, her face tilted towards the wheel. "Please, keep spinning," she softly pleaded.
"Belle..." his hand flew to her head, gently stroking her unruly tresses.
"Please," she repeated. Too many memories from the asylum, from Regina's prison. Too many. "I want to forget things too..." she explained softly.
He slowly removed his hand, watching her with concerned eyes before resuming, careful not to disturb her as he moved his foot against the pedal.
An hour later, he snapped from his haze and jerked his head to see she was fast asleep, cheek still rested upon his knee.
A few days later, she'd returned, a shy smile settled upon her lips. "Rumple...could you teach me how?" she softly asked, gesturing to the wheel.
He was taken aback, truthfully. He'd once tried to teach Baelfire how to spin, but the boy lost patience. He'd been too young to truly appreciate the way the wheel worked. "I'd love to," he shot a charming smile in her direction, standing from the seat.
Belle took his place, giving a nervous laugh. "It's...odd being the one to sit here," she informed with a cheeky grin. "I'm used to spying on you from afar, not...being the one to control this..." she murmured, placing her fingers along the wheel, giving it an appreciative stroke.
Rumplestiltskin watched her with a fond smile plastered upon his face. Belle appreciated even the most worn, used of things. Part of him could hardly wait to introduce her back into his pawn shop. Instead of skimming over the items, she'd look at each one, wondering where it had come from, who it had come from, why it was there.
"Spinning straw is very simple, m'dear, but wool is something else," he informed her, silently placing the mass of puffy wool into her lap. He crouched by her side, his good knee against the ground to alleviate the pain in his other leg.
"In the mass, you'll find the fiber, the thicker thread," he told her, taking her hand and running it down along the thick fiber that was already threaded into the wheel. "All this fluff will be threaded into the yarn, all you need to do is guide it," he murmured, placing her fingers towards the top of the thread, pinching them down over it.
"That hand will slide, this hand," he took her other hand, placing it towards the messier fibers towards her lap, "will pull."
He displayed the manner of sliding and pulling to her until she could fluidly guide the stray wools into a thin line on her own.
"Now you only need to pedal," he looked down, pleased to see her bare foot was already fidgeting on the pedal.
"I know the rhythm," she pointedly informed him, grinning coyly.
"Really now, dearie?" he chuckled, slowly standing to lean on his cane and observe her.
"Yes, I've memorized it," she grinned, gently pressing down onto the pedal and falling into her own rhythm as she started to twist and draw the wool, giving a gleeful giggle as she realized she was doing it.
She peeked back at him, wide eyed and beaming. "I'm doing it, Rumple!" she proclaimed.
He only smiled, quickly moving to halt her pedaling leg before she knotted up the wool. "Careful now, dearie. A second of lost concentration can ruin it all,"
She flushed, bobbing her head as she tried to bat away her embarrassment. "I'm lucky to have such a good teacher," she murmured, standing to peer up into his brown eyes.
His smile faded as his eyes met hers, his hand carefully tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'll teach you as much as you want. You can spin down here each night if you'd like...if it'd help."
She caught his hand in hers, gently lowering it to rest against her beating heart. "It's nice to spin, but I...I think I prefer watching you do it," she admitted with a laugh. "I can't possibly forget anything when I'm too worried I'll mess up somehow. You...You never mess up."
"Well, I am a rather good teacher, dearie. I'm sure with a bit more practice you'll be just as skilled, if not more," he assured with a coy little smirk.
Belle huffed, a hand on her hip. "My, that sounds like a challenge, Rumplestiltskin?" she cocked her head, a grin on her lips.
"Indeed," he replied leaning down to steal a kiss from the beauty. "If I win, I can kiss you as much as I want..."
"That's what I was just going to say, but for me..." she frowned.
"Hm, it seems' we've reached an impasse," he mimicked her frown, unable to hide the glee in his eyes.
Belle thought for a moment before smirking suddenly. "Scratch that, if I win, you have to wear the pants."
"THE pants?" he blanched.
"Yes, the leather ones, like you used to wear. "
Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat, eyes thinning. There was no way he would let her win now. He only imagined how he'd look in those impish pants...
Meh, I'm not sure how I felt about my writing in this one, but it was fun research to do!
Review if you wish to do so, dearie!