Anonymous said:
Arthur needs Belle's help getting dressed before going home after his surgery?
anonymous said:
Arthur being all awkward about taking his shirt off in front of Belle while she's helping him as he's healing, and she makes it very clear to him that the change in his body doesn't affect how much she loves or wants him. Maybe including her asking permission to touch the scars/changes in his chest to show him? Pre-sex if you think it'll fit there, to make it a moment of reassurance instead of smut. (Though I look forward to post-healing smut too!)
shipperqueen93 said:
Adoption verse prompt. Gold wants to take Belle out for a fancy expensive dinner for Valentines day/date but because of some reason they end up with simple Chinese takeout.
Arthur was okay to go home the next morning. He was still a little groggy and sore, but he was determined to get home with his family and the doctor didn't see any reason to keep him. The nurse had cleaned and changed his bandage while Belle waited outside the door. Bae was at school, now that the worst was over, and Arthur hadn't ever been so happy to not have his son around as he was being pushed out of the hospital in a wheelchair, Bae didn't need to see that.
If Arthur had his way, Belle wouldn't have had to see it either, but the doctor wouldn't let him go home without someone to drive him and frankly Arthur wasn't sure he could have resisted if she'd decided to just kidnap him out of his room. The pain medication left him a little groggy and too tired to even care that she had to help him into the passenger seat and then into the house. She lead him upstairs with her arm wrapped tight around his waist as though she were afraid to let go of him before he was safely in bed.
As he drifted off again, he was vaguely aware that she'd placed him in her bed and not his. Fingers trailing through his hair was the last thing he remembered, though he may have been dreaming by then.
Arthur was in and out of consciousness most of the morning, only coming around in the early afternoon just in time to feel nauseous and and be forced to make a beeline for the restroom. He'd been warned about that as a possible side effect of the anesthesia, but that didn't really make it any more pleasant to deal with. His body was betraying him, and he just felt so pitiful and weak.
He wasn't sure if she'd been checking on him, or if the noise he was making had summoned her, but it wasn't long before Belle came to find him sitting on the cool floor of the bathroom and leaning against the tub.
"Hey," he managed to get out.
"You're awake," she said with a little smile blooming on her face. "Can I get you anything?"
He shook his head, not wanting to risk talking just yet - he could do a lot of things in front of this woman, but he didn't want to add vomiting to the list.
"Are you feeling sick?" she asked, and he did manage a little bit of a nod without making himself too sick.
"I'm sorry," she said, picking up one of the little paper cups kept on the counter and filling it with water. "Here."
He took the cup, sipping the lukewarm tap water gingerly as she came and sat on the edge of the tub next to him and started stroking his hair back off his face and running her fingers through it. Arthur felt the tension peeling off of him as she touched him, and leaned his head back into her lap.
"That feels nice," he said once he was sure his stomach was settled.
"I'm glad," she replied. "How's your chest feel?"
"The painkillers are working so far," he reassured her. "It mostly feels tight. If I move my arm too much I can feel the stitches pulling but it's more strange than painful."
"That's good," she said. "We're going to have to change your bandage in a little bit."
"I can handle it," he replied instantly. He had no idea how he was going to handle it, but the idea of her seeing what was left of his chest...he hadn't even seen it himself yet, how could he really expect her to look at it?
"Don't be silly," she said, still stroking his hair. "You just had surgery and there's a surgical drain in your chest. The nurses went over it with me a few times while you were unconscious. You're in good hands, just trust me."
He did trust her, he really, truly did. He would have walked through fire on her say-so. He loved her, too. He loved her so much it felt like having an open wound in his chest (well, another one) that he was pouring her into daily. But the idea of being dependent of her, of being another burdensome thing she had to take care of all by herself when ever since he'd first arrived in her life he'd tried to take on more and more of her burdens...how could he do that? How could he allow her to be alone again?
"It's going to be ugly," he warned her, though it didn't sound so much like a warning as it did a whine. "There is literally a hole in my chest."
"So?" she replied. "You're here, and that's the important part."
He couldn't argue with her, at least partially because he was too exhausted to think, but he knew she was right and that he wouldn't be able to change the dressings by himself. He finally nodded in agreement, and she smiled and kissed his forehead.
"I'll just go get the gauze," she continued. "I'll be back in a minute."
He hadn't been wrong when he had told her it would be ugly. It had taken some work before they were finally able to get his shirt off comfortably, and there was no way he was going to be able to get dressed or undressed without her help for a few days at least. Just one more indignity to suffer.
Belle's hands were careful and delicate as she worked off the tape around the gauze. He hadn't been mislead about how attractive this would be. A long incision traversed his left pectoral across where his nipple used to be up to his armpit. What little breast tissue he'd had was gone, leaving one side of his chest strangely sunken. Arthur didn't even want to think about the presence of the tube to drain built up fluids. He didn't want to look at it and he especially didn't want Belle to look at it.
It was hard not to admire how little she seemed bothered by anything, though. She didn't flinch at the sight of him, or as she carefully placed the clean bandages on his chest and taped it down. Soon, he promised, as soon as this was over he'd make it up to her.
If Arthur could have in good conscience delayed his surgery, he would have scheduled it after Valentine's day. He'd already been planning the many, many things he wanted to do with Belle before his diagnosis. It had been a long time since either one of them had a romantic partner to share the day with, and she had been young enough for her last relationship that it was likely she'd never done much more than dinner and a movie.
He'd been planning a weekend away for just the two of them. He'd already secretly managed to get permission for Bae to spend the weekend with his friend August, and had wanted to surprise Belle with a weekend in Boston at a nice hotel. He'd still been hammering out details of where they would eat and what they would do (though the ballet was in town and he knew she'd enjoy it) when he got the diagnosis and al his well laid plans had evaporated in his haste to have the surgery performed.
In the grand scheme of things, another week probably would have been fine, but he hadn't wanted to take any risks now that Bae was in the picture and even if he had put it off, he knew that there was no way Belle would have been able to be anything but worried until everything was taken care of. So he had scheduled his surgery for the earliest possible date and ruined his plans.
He couldn't even change his clothes without help. Anything truly romantic was largely off the table.
Luckily, August's father had still been willing to take Bae for a few days, saying it would help distract him from being alone so they would still have time together, he just wasn't sure what they would really be able to do with it. He was still so tender to be touched and Belle...Belle seemed exhausted, to be honest. She'd been caring for him and for Bae as well as working through the busy season at the flower shop. She had dark circles under her eyes and a tightness around her mouth that hadn't been there before. He hated that he'd become another burden on her when all he'd wanted was to be a partner in all of this and not another thing for her to have to deal with.
He wasn't quite up to cooking for her, but the Chinese place delivered and he knew she had a fondness for the Kung Pao Chicken. Maybe it wasn't a candlelit dinner and a hotel, but there were candles and it put a smile on her face when she came through the door to find dinner on the table was something special.
"What's all this?" she asked, coming into the rarely used dining room to see the plates of food on the table.
"Happy Valentine's Day," he replied. "I know it's not much, but…"
He cut himself off with a shrug, unsure of what else to say. He didn't want to make her regret what he hadn't been able to do for her.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she said, kissing him softly on the lips and leaning against the good side of his chest. "I'm dead on my feet."
"Yeah?" he replied, rubbing her shoulders and letting her rest on him as much as she dared. "You've been doing too much this week, anyway."
"It's not too much," she protested. "And it's been worth it."
"It's over now," he said. "Bae is with August this weekend."
"Is he?" she replied, looking up quickly. "So it's just us?"
"It is," he said. "I had made the arrangement with Marco before I got the diagnosis, but I thought you could still use the break."
"Yeah?" she said. "Did we have really good plans?"
"We did," he said. "Maybe next year we'll get to keep them."
He dipped his head to kiss her on the forehead and she made a pleased sound in her throat.
"Maybe," she replied. "But this is nice, too. It's just nice to be home."
He hadn't realized he was nervous about whether she'd be happy with this gesture or if it would have been a miserable failure. He felt the tension ooze out of him and he let himself just bask in her approval and affection while she was willing to be there with him.
It didn't take too long for her to decide it was time for dinner, and they sat next to each other and made jokes and split fortune cookies.
After they ate, she pulled up a playlist on her phone so they could sit in the living room and talk. He hadn't managed to get her much, though he'd at least bought her a diamond pendant during their last stay in New York so he'd been covered for a gift and she'd been extraordinarily (and enthusiastically) grateful for it. He'd also managed to get a bottle of the wine she liked and even though he couldn't join her because of his pain killers, she had drank until she was relaxed and lounging with her head in his lap.
"I'm going to have to get a new jewelry box you know," she told him as she straightened the pendant against her chest. "This is too pretty to be in my old one."
"What's your old one?" he asked idly, trying to remember everything she had on her dresser.
"It's a little wooden box that Bae painted for me when he was in preschool," she replied. "It was a mother's day craft."
He suddenly remembered it. It was a mish mosh of splotches of acrylic paint on a lightweight wooden box from a craft store.
"That's your only jewelry box?" he asked her, twirling her hair around his fingers.
"I don't own much jewelry," she said, sticking her tongue out.
He vaguely registered that the song changing on her phone, but her eyes were so damn blue it was hard to pay attention to anything else.
"I guess we'll have to fix that," he finally said. "Get you enough jewelry to make you sink if you fall into a pool."
She let out a little giggle before jumping to her feet.
"I love this song!" she exclaimed, reaching her hand down towards him. "Dance with me?"
He took her hand and let her help him to his feet. He'd do whatever she asked of him with no reservations. For the rest of his life if he could manage it.
Perhaps the next piece of jewelry he should add to her collection should be another ring.