Rumpelstiltskin was confused; he could not understand why Belle behaved that way. She smiled at him when she woke up and talked to him throughout the day. It did not discourage her one bit when he scowled or snapped at her; she would shake her head as if he was a misbehaving child and keep on talking to him. Besides, she kept seeking his touch, however small or casual it might be. He'd think her insane for wanting to touch him as if he didn't know any better. When she slept, he often reached out for her with his magic. Other than being under weight from poor nutrition or feeling the chill from the dungeon, Belle was alright; he fixed those things of course and if Belle noticed or was surprised by seldom feeling cold or hungry when she woke, she never made a remark. Perhaps she didn't even notice.
At first Rumpelstiltskin thought that the magic still made her act strange. But he hadn't used it as much to cause any side-effects, besides, the girl seemed to be bright and aware of her surroundings.
Still nothing could explain her obsession with the idea of holding hands with him, which was utterly ridiculous. Back then when he was human, which seemed like it was in another life, he was young and (as he thought) in love with his wife – even then neither Milah nor anyone else ever expressed any desire to touch him as much as Belle wanted to.
Rumpelstiltskin would understand if it was just a plain physical need for satisfaction, he was sure he could do it perfectly and bring the girl off several times in a row until she'd beg him to stop. He could easily pleasure her with magic – thus eliminating any direct contact between them – but Belle always refused it when he hinted at it. She'd sigh and even thank him, but claim she wanted to be touched by him and not magic.
It'd be quite simple if she wanted something from him. Rumpelstiltskin was genuinely surprised Belle didn't. Most people in her place would ask for a favor or a deal, to be granted a wish or request a demonstration of power. Surely the girl wasn't so stupid to forget she was kept next to the Dark One but she hadn't asked anything of him. Could she truly accept him for what he was, and not his façade of magic and might?
Her every touch was a small wonder to him, but Rumpelstiltskin often felt like they were too much for him to bear. He was weak for enjoying those moments and he had to keep reminding himself it was some cruel joke, that it would not last. Half of the time he expected her to laugh in his face for believing she was sincerely interested in him. He'd shake her hand off him then and recoil to the back of his cell, pulling his knees up to make himself small and less noticeable and hide his face behind the curtain of his dark wavy hair. When Belle would give up trying to touch him or pet his hair during such moods, she'd just settle down and look at him, her large eyes fixed on his face. Those quiet stares unnerved him. What was she thinking about when she studied his face like this? What was she seeing?
Rumpelstiltskin knew he was not a bit attractive, but Belle's eyes weren't judging or mocking. He'd often meet her gaze and try to read her, but he'd always look away first, her clear innocent blue eyes overpowering his dark ones.
The girl was bad for him. He couldn't recall the last time someone could make his blood run faster or settle sparkles of desire by merely chewing on her lips. She could get him hard within seconds, without even trying; Belle probably wasn't aware of how she affected him. Rumpelstiltskin would often catch himself staring at her chest, or admiring the elegant curve of her neck. The girl was pure seduction and his cock throbbed at the thought of taking her, claiming her maidenhead and marking her as his.
If it was someone else in her place, Rumpelstiltskin would just take what he wanted with power – not caring a bit about the girl's wishes. Yet he felt timid with Belle, as if touching her could somehow ruin her, as if he could break her and shatter this small understanding between them to pieces. He decided he'd not show any initiative. He'd let her do as she pleased but he made sure it'd never go too far.
That day Belle seemed quiet and thoughtful, as if something troubled her. However she did not mind being close to Rumpelstiltskin, reaching for his hand to pull it through the bars and resting it on her crossed legs. He failed to see what could be so fascinating about his hand –his palm was rather broad with large knuckles, with calloused skin and he personally believed his hands looked like they belonged to a farmer, not a sorcerer. She settled down to studying it nevertheless, stroking his green skin with just her fingertips. His fingers were quite long and thin but flexible, as a lot of spells required precise and complicated movements. Belle didn't know that, of course, but simply admired them. His hands looked strong and gentle at the same time, she was sure he could tenderly hold up a vial of the thinnest, finest glass or bend iron if he chose to.
She turned his hand palm up, tracing the patterns along his wrist. The skin there was gentle and softer, of lighter shade, something between light green and grey.
Belle frowned at how smooth the skin was. He had no destiny lines which was strange and unsettling. Did it mean his life was merely a blank canvas ahead of him or that there was no happiness or love for him? Or perhaps she was just being superstitious and it meant nothing at all?
Belle lifted his palm to her lips. She kissed the inside of his hand, her breath warm and tickly. Rumpelstiltskin tried to pull his hand free but she held it in her grip tightly.
Looking up, she thought about asking him about the destiny lines but stopped when their eyes locked. Rumpelstiltskin's expression for once wasn't frowning or mocking. He was looking at her calmly, his eyes wandering about her face as if searching for something, as if he was trying to read her but some tiny detail slipped away from him.
Acting up on a sudden whim, Belle intertwined her fingers with his. The gesture was quite intimate but also natural. She expected Rumpelstiltskin to pull his hand free, but he only stared down at their locked hands. The contrast was remarkable. It was strange how small her palm seemed against his hand and how much lighter her skin was.
"Why do you keep doing this," Rumpelstiltskin sighed, speaking more to himself than her.
Belle couldn't quite understand why everything had to have a reason, why he couldn't just accept that what she was doing felt right and was what she wanted. It wasn't as if she was doing something unpleasant to him. Surely he found her attractive and enjoyed her touches.
Their faces were so close Belle could focus her vision on very little except for his eyes. His warm breath caressed her lips and she licked them unconsciously. Belle's heart pounded and with another heavy sigh Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head and moved even closer until his lips came to rest on hers lightly.
He did nothing more, his body tense, expecting her to pull away. Belle squeezed his hand, hoping he would take it as an encouragement. She didn't dare to move and she was not sure how the kissing worked. Even the smallest things the man did usually provoked an unexpected reaction from her and she was afraid to ruin this almost-kiss, to rush it and break the spell.
Sensing that Belle wasn't going to dash aside, Rumpelstiltskin dragged his dry lips sideways to the corner of her mouth, pressing a light kiss there. Belle's heart fluttered like a caged bird and her face felt suddenly hot. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, hoping for more, praying he'd not stop.
Rumpelstiltskin repeated the feather-brush of his lips and then captured her lower lip between his, pulling on it and moving his head back until her lip popped out of his mouth. He paused to look at Belle. Her eyes were still closed and she gripped onto his hand for dear life, not letting him move away. Her cheeks were flushed, a pretty rosy color that flattered her creamy skin, with long shadows cast by her lashes; her lips were dark-red and parted. He wondered how she could look both innocent and seductive at the same time.
He realized he'd been staring at her for far too long when Belle's eyes opened with confusion. Rumpelstiltskin could not stand her looking at him now for he'd never been brave and, having just succumbed to her, he had to accept that he wanted it too, and that required courage. Besides, if Belle wanted to recall that moment later, she could always pretend it was someone else kissing her, someone young and handsome, someone who would deserve her and be able to make her happy.
With a snap of his fingers, Rumpelstiltskin put the torch out and covered Belle's lips with his again.