She hugged him, and his head was spinning. Gaston tried to remember what else he wanted to say to her:
"I... I have a lot of faults."
"Oh," Belle said with interest and clung to him tighter. "Tell me what I don't know yet."
"Sometimes I get drunk."
The girl raised an eyebrow.
"I've never gotten drunk. Let's get drunk together sometime."
"I love having Lefou hanging around me all the time, praising all my abilities. He sometimes, you know, says stupid things, even about me. And he gets a kick out of me for that. But I can't do without him. And he pisses you off," Gaston added quickly, covering his eyes as if in confession.
" "Well, he doesn't piss me off that much. Invite him over to our house sometime with his girlfriend. I'm not gonna keep your friends away from you."
He started to run out of arguments and added more helplessly:
"I also like tavern fights... And spitting contests."
She laughed her quiet, melodious laugh and rested her head on his chest.
"Lefou and I act like real jerks sometimes. You know, just to make it fun. Like throwing apples at passersby. And I like noise and fun, and all sorts of formal gatherings are not for me."
Belle raised her head and smiled:
"You make it sound so exciting."
It was hard to think of anything when she was so close. Hunter racked his brain:
"I... I've been going through your stuff.."
Belle took a deep breath and answered nothing.
"Are you angry?" Gaston asked quietly.
"I can't be angry, because I understand why you did it. You said you didn't want to ask questions because you were afraid of getting an answer," she said quietly. "Ask me. Don't be afraid."
"Why were you crying?" Gaston finally asked. Right now, Belle couldn't help but talk about the prince.
Belle lowered her hands, he, too, lowered his automatically. The girl walked to the bedroom from the living room and sat on the bed.
"Because I hoped we'd come back and be happy. That we'd be closer to each other. But everything had gone downhill again."
She walked over to her nightstand and pulled out a small book.
"Here, look what I'm reading now."
Gaston could hardly make out the letters: "How to Seduce a Man."
"But why do you need it, Belle?" he exclaimed. "You don't have to do anything for it. You are perfect; you must remain as you are."
The girl sighed and sat down on the bed again.
"I'm not very good at this. Do you remember what we talked about in the hotel in the town near Toulon before we were kidnapped?"
Gaston remembered perfectly. About cribs and puppies and a baby with blue eyes. But things were different now. He took a step toward the bed and sat down next to Belle.
"But some things have changed. The castle had appeared... And him."
Belle raised her head:
"Nothing has changed for me."
Gaston took her by the shoulders:
"Belle, but you must be sure! Absolutely sure! You can't make these decisions without talking to him. You haven't even seen him. What if you regret it? If- If I'm your first man, it'll be with you forever. That's very important for a woman. Why don't you at least want to see him before you make your final choice? You dreamed of prince charming and true love! You could be a princess instead of suffocating from housework here in this hut."
The girl frowned and moved away:
"What do you know about my dreams Gaston? First you thought I dreamed of giving you foot massages and having six children, now you think I want to be a princess. Stop making things up for me! It's one thing to read romantic stories and fairy tales, but it's another to actually want to lead the life of royalty. Have you read about how a queen gives birth? She has several men standing around her to make sure the heir is really born."
"Oh, my God."
"No privacy. Dressing and undressing - you can't do it yourself, the servants will do it. The servants will wash you. Standing at the bedroom door. The whole day's a clockwork day. Just the thought of having a crowd around me makes me crazy!
I dream of a quiet life, that in the evening I would sit in an armchair and read a book, and no one would bother me. To have a man around who can take care of himself, an grown man.
When I got to the castle, it was magical. But everyone wanted to be ordinary people.
Everyone wanted a normal human life. And I understand them now. If the adventure goes beyond a picnic in the woods, I don't want that adventure. I repeat, I want a quiet life with the man I've come to love," she waved her hands uncertainly. "If... If you see that I'm having a hard time with housework... Why don't you just want to help me? I get it, it's not a man's job, but why can't you just be more lenient with me? If you can see that I'm failing. Hell... I'm doing fine. What makes you think I don't love our house? That just so I don't have to do laundry I want to be a princess? That I'm ready to look for a suitable man?"
Belle somehow saw his suggestions as accusations rather than opportunities to make her life better.
"Belle, that's not what I meant. You're just too good for me. For everyone in this town in general. You're... It's like you're from a different place, different from everyone else."
Belle blinked and frowned, as if he'd said something not good about her, but another accusation.
"No, I I'm not, Gaston. You're the one who's made up some kind of ideal about me. I'm just an ordinary village girl. Yes, perhaps stranger and prettier than most. I may seem like a princess to the people of our town, but among real princesses, I think I'd have my place."
She pressed herself against him and hugged him tightly:
"Look at me, look at me," the girl lifted her face up, and he saw so close her eyes and lips. "I am a human being, not a vision, not an ideal. I am ordinary, alive. Feel my warmth, feel my heart beating when you're near."
Gaston made one last attempt to fight himself, but his arms were already pulling the girl closer to his body. Belle kissed him so passionately that his hands trembled.
"Belle, Belle, wait..." he whispered. "You have to be sure, you have to know exactly what you want. You have to have everything perfect, and I'm not sure I'm going to be perfect..."
"No, no, it doesn't have to be perfect. It's either perfect or nothing, that's a mistake, Gaston," she stopped and shook her head. "And anyway, you might not like to be with me."
"How could I not like it?" Gaston pulled her even tighter against him. "It's you."
"That's what I think too, it's you."