Part 12

Beyond moved by his promise of affection and dedication, she takes one of her hands from his and reaches for his face. There's a developing familiarity in this gesture, and a variety of others, which she savors almost as much as the man himself.

By now no longer reluctant to do so or even too overwhelmed to fully experience it, she caresses his cheek with her fingertips, exploring the strong line of his jaw and the stubble that covers it.

Just like before, he leans into her hand, his need for being touched like this clearly not diminishing at all. He lets out a quiet gasp as his eyes meet hers, light as melting honey. She brings her other hand to his face as well, cradling his cheeks.

She touches him like that for a wonderfully long while, until it doesn't seem quite enough any longer. Recalling how she brought her lips to his forehead just an hour or so ago - it might as well have been a lifetime - she gradually withdraws her hands, placing them on his shoulders instead.

His eyes open only a few seconds later, the small smile never leaving his lips. He looks as if he is content, having finally found some of the peace he has given her as well. It gives her a sense of pride and achievement she never knew before.

Wanting to recreate the sensations of their not quite kiss of earlier that evening, she shifts a little, moving closer to him until her face is only a yard away from his.

"Belle?" he asks questioningly, his voice as uncertain as it is eager, and just a little hoarse, making her tremble in a way she didn't know could be pleasant.

"Rumple," she murmurs, only aware when he groans ever so quietly that her voice must have taken on the same husky quality as his.

She leans in to him then, taking her time. It's torment of a lovely kind, especially when she closes the distance between them at last, his eyes widening.

Never ceasing to caress his cheek with her hand, she purposefully presses her lips against his other cheek. Her other hand finds its way back to his nape on its own accord, her upper body pressed slightly against this side. He inhales noisily at the contact, and so does she.

She sighs his name against his skin, pressing her lips against it once more as well, just so she can touch a slightly different part of him like this. His skin is soft but it is covered by a stubble, slightly rough against her lips. She can't get enough of it.

Before long, she is pressing kisses against his jaw and cheeks alike, breathing in the scent of him which she has already grown to love so much. His arm comes around her waist, its weight on her hip ever so light. She can hardly feel it through the thick material of his coat which is still covering her. Wanting to feel more of him, she wiggles a little until he takes a firmer hold on her.

It's almost difficult to imagine now that there was a time, one that ended only very shortly ago, that such a touch would have scared and revolted her... that he would have done so. But now she doesn't want to spend another day without it.

"Belle..."

His gasp is a sound of pure delight and joy, raw and vulnerable, causing her to smile against his skin before whispering his name once more as well.

All those years locked in isolation, she used to long for so many things and fantasized about a great many more. She wondered at life outside the cell, at the world she could see a tiny part of through the narrow window just below the ceiling of her cell. She could only see the sky that way, but that was already so much compared to the emptiness of her room and life alike.

She had thought of what her life might be like if she were to actually have one, mentally living out dozens of them from start to finish. In her mind, she had been everything she wanted to be, had felt everything she wanted to feel - or so she thought. She might have believed that she has mentally experienced everything that's possible in the real world, but now she's finding out just how very wrong she has been about that.

For never, not once in all those years, she has been able to think of this, of being held by a man like she is being embraced right now, of the sheer comfort and delight of it. Not once did she think there could be something like the strange sensations which he evokes deep inside of her, whether he's telling her of their life together, holding her, or simply smiling at her.

Despite her enthusiasm, she doesn't quite venture near his mouth. The notion of kissing him isn't an unpleasant one any longer, but it doesn't feel quite right, either. But another idea presents itself and she is perfectly happy to pursue that one instead.

She can't tell whether it's a subconscious gesture or not, but the way he tilts his head back is undeniable. She isn't certain either whether he intended for her to do what springs to her mind when he bares his throat to her like this, but she has reached a point where she is no longer hesitant just to try.

He grunts when she runs her tongue along his throat, all the way from the skin just above his tie to his chin. It looks like he wasn't expecting this in the slightest after all, which makes her only more eager to repeat the action.

Here too his skin is deliciously rough. Its gets even better when she expands her territory and finds something throbbing rapidly beneath her lips. Presuming that she must have found a vein, she recalls vividly just how good it felt when he touched her like this. Like he did before, she quite literally latches onto it, nibbling and suckling and, giving into a seemingly strange urge, biting carefully as well.

He is making all sorts of noises, sounds that do the most unfamiliar things within her, and make her react in kind. His head supported by her left hand while her right is roaming along his side, he tips his head back for as far as the wall behind him lets him.

She doesn't need any memories in order to know what it means that this man, with all his usual power and control, is more than happy to let her touch him like this. He has literally bared his throat to her, letting her run her teeth over one of the most vulnerable parts of his body.

She recognizes the sounds he is making as ones of pleasure just as easily. His both pleading and loving tone and pitch is surprisingly simple to interpret, even for her.

Instead of pondering her ability to be able to understand him like this, even with her memories missing, she takes a more practical approach, considering the fabric that's currently covering the lower half of his throat.

He isn't wearing his coat any longer, but beneath the tie and the jacket which are still covering him, she spots at least one more layer of fabric. His rapid breath and tightened hold on her waist prevents her from wondering just yet how she might get those layers of material at least partly out of the way, revealing more of his so very lovely skin to her eyes and mouth.

It's probably for the better. Despite the awareness that both of them want this, whatever those seemingly unusual sort of kisses and touches are anyway, she isn't certain in the slightest whether it's a good idea to do so right now, so very soon after their reunion of sorts, and in the middle of a hallway of the hospital.

She draws back abruptly as she recalls just where exactly they are, and that they are far from alone in the building, or even this part of it.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes opening immediately. He seems confused for a moment, before his expressions becomes one of worry and almost tangible guilt. "I'm sorry. This is too much, for now at least. I shouldn't have encouraged you to..."

"It's all right, truly," she is quick to reassure him, smiling a little despite her realization and his obvious worry. "I'm glad that you are concerned, but I didn't stop because I didn't like what we were doing."

She is sure that she doesn't need to add that she liked what they were doing, liked it so very much, with all the heat rushing to her cheeks.

"What is it then, sweetheart?"

She is surprised by how alert and focused he is, such a contrast to how lost he was just a few seconds ago. It worries her to see his dreamy and unmistakably happy expression having disappeared so quickly.

"We're sitting right here and... anyone could see us."

He is clearly relieved by her reply, a small smile finding its way back to his face. She's pleased that he is easily persuaded, this time at least, that she has no objections whatsoever anymore to touching him.

"We're quite alone here, dear. I cast a spell to prevent anyone from entering this hallway. Whenever someone wants to come anywhere near here, they realize they have quite pressing matters to attend to elsewhere in the building."

She too smiles at that, taking delight in the wickedness of his voice. But then she sobers, understanding what this might mean for other patients.

"You are the only one who is currently treated here," he says, again managing to reply to a question she hasn't asked yet. At this point, it doesn't bewilder her any longer. "No patient is being neglected here because I don't trust anyone to leave us alone for once."

"When did you cast the spell?" she asks, knowing that she hasn't noticed him doing so.

"Quite a while ago, soon after you joined me here and you miraculously didn't seem like you were trying to get away from me as quickly as anyone else would have done."

"I didn't see you doing so," she replies, more intrigued than anything else.

"Not every kind of magic requires a purple haze. It is quite theatrical, I admit. A lot of ways are more... subtle. I should have told you, right when I did it, but..."

He shakes his head a little, giving her a glimpse of sadness before his hair falls around his face like a curtain once more. Instinctively, she reaches out to wipe his hair from his face, to prevent him from withdrawing from her again.

"You were afraid that I would be upset if I would know that you were using magic. Because you used that spell before you told me about it, before you explained magic to me."

"Exactly."

"It's all right, Rumple. It really is. I understand why you used the spell without telling me. I'm just glad that you cast it."

"You are?"

He looks up abruptly, confusion replacing his worried sorrow. It's not much of an improvement.

"Yes. I wouldn't want people to see us like this."

"Of course," he says curtly, lowering his head again and scooting as far away from her as his leg allows. "You don't want to be seen with me."

"It's not that!" she gasps out, horrified. "How can you think that?"

He gives her a helpless shrug. His eyes are as sad as they are forgiving.

"You don't have to explain it to me. You don't have to defend yourself. There's no one who understands better than I do that you don't want people to know of our... continued association."

"You silly man," she mutters, all but launching herself at him. "I want to be with you, even if that only means finding out how to be with you for now."

She clamps her arms around his chest, pulling herself as tightly against him as she can. Her chest is to his back, her bare knees ending up on the warm plastic of the part of the seat which he just vacated. Only when she buries her face in his neck, pressing stubborn and almost possessive kisses there, she is somewhat satisfied that he isn't going to get away from her out of a misplaced sense of shame after all.

"I don't want to be watched. It reminds me of how she used to come and stare at me. I don't want to be reminded of that." She breathes in deeply out of necessity, her outburst leaving her quite breathless. It's hardly a punishment, his mesmerizing scent filling her along with oxygen each time she sharply inhales. "Besides, this is about us, for us, and no one else. This is private. I don't want anyone else to see that."

She looks at him expectantly, quite certain that it isn't just in her imagination that his smile truly does get broader every time she reassures him.

"I couldn't agree more," he says, almost managing to sound entirely like he didn't doubt this so very much just a moment ago. "I promise that there'll be no one here who you don't want to for as long as you'll stay here. When you leave the hospital... I'll make any arrangements necessary to ensure you comfort."

He leans back against her, finally relaxing now that he is yet more assured of her comfort, both in the short and long run. Before, she would have been very curious, anxious more likely, about the 'arrangements' he is referring to. But now, she barely considers them.

It's not just that she has grown to implicitly trust him to support her, to help her decide about things she barely knows about; she simply doesn't want to think of anything but the joys of the here and now for as long as this most unexpected of closeness and affection lasts.

"I'm sorry for doubting you, Belle. I... I'm a weak man. I tend to think the worst. Of others, and of myself. I usually presume the worst, especially with regards to what... who I love most."

"I think that someone should prove you differently. About yourself. And about others."

She places a single finger beneath his chin, making sure that he can't lower his head or look away from her, that there can be no doubt whatsoever that she's referring to herself.

"I love you, Belle," he breathes, still so very disbelieving, but not nearly quite as broken and desperate as before.

"I know. I think I can love you too. Again, I mean."

"Oh, sweetheart..."

Tears gather in his eyes again and her vision becomes blurry as well, but that just won't do, not this time.

"No more crying, Rumple," she says decisively, not wanting either or both of them to break down again. Just for now, she wants to focus on nothing but the happiness which is currently blossoming between them. "We've had enough tears for one night."

"You're perfectly right, my dear," he says, giving her a watery smile. "As you always are."

"And don't you forget it."

She still doesn't know where this boldness, this banter, is coming from, whether it's a part of the woman who she is supposed to be that's shining through. It doesn't matter all that much when his smile broadens again.

"Never."

This time, it only takes a questioning glance from him and a brief, delighted nod from her to communicate their need to be as close to one another as they can be.

As he gathers her in his arms and they both sigh in contentedness, it's almost as if she has never known anything but his loving and protective embrace.