I didn’t mean to let it show how much his question effected me but it must have shown through. That was no surprise I was pretty bad at hiding my emotions. “Ill be ok Gen.” I say as I hold him kind of tight. “Yeah if we could drop the subject for now I would appreciate it.” I say as I cuddle into him. I felt his hand on my cheek and I smiled lightly. “Yeah only happy thoughts Gen I will try to do that.” I say with a little laugh as I keep him close.
@Meekepeek all good I get it
I nodded and smiled at him. “How about I tell you how I learned to ice skate instead” I suggested as I felt like it was a suitable story for the winter view we looked at, about as long as we were still on the bus, and a lighthearted story about my past. I wanted to let him in about my past, but maybe starting off small and taking it easy will be better.
“When I was little, there was this little pond in the woods behind our house. It was quite hidden so it felt like my special place…well mine and my mom’s since she saw me go there once. In the summer we would feed the ducklings and fish in the bond. During the winter, it was often very cold, but that also meant we could stand on the ice. Mom started a tradition that we would try and keep the ice snow-free so it would stay clean and have no bumps. Then she bought me ice skates and showed me the basics before she would dance around on the ice. I wanted to learn it too so we could dance together, but before I was good enough, she passed away. After that I spend every winter on that pond, skating like she taught me, so I could dance for her” I tell him with a smile. “It was my special moment with mom. My dad, step-sis and step mom didn’t know about it” I added. “Winter always remind me of her” I then said softly while smiling into the distance. I missed her, but I couldn’t do anything but smile while thinking back at her.
She wasn’t someone who particularly liked taking money from others, especially when they offered it to her, as she found that oftentimes these offers were underlined with the idea that she would then owe them something in return. “Nothing is for free” was a motto that her mother had drilled in her mind, and for the most part, she had seen it to be proven true. As well, it was just offensive for someone to assume she couldn’t afford something. Like, did she have any money on her? Well, no, but it’s not like he knew that. It is for these reasons that her lips turned down slightly at his offer of lending her money, and she closed his fist around the bill, lightly pushing his hand back to his body. “There’s no need,” she said, shaking her head ever-so-slightly. “We can get it at my store anyways, so neither of us has to pay.” Anastasia gave him a small smile, lifting her shoulders lightly in a shrug. “Save that money for your pets,” she added, her eyes on the birds that pecked at his feet.
Anastasia watched as his hand went to his temple, where she’d hit him with the ball earlier. Her lips pursed slightly, eyes trained on his movements and outward expression as his hand felt the bump. Pausing for a brief moment, Ana then walked the few paces that separated the two of them. “My sister’s a doctor you know,” she said to him, though that statement was only half-true. “She can fix that for you, make it look like I never demonstrated my horrendous football skills.” Her lips quirked upward slightly, a telltale sign of amusement in the crease. “But really, that was totally my fault, so let my sister fix it for you and we’ll be even. Debts paid.”
It wasn’t until he appeared confused by her calling him Kim that she remembered that his name wasn’t actually Kim, and that that was just the name she’d mentally assigned him. “Yeah, Kim. That’s you, I’ve decided.” She flashed him a charming grin, a light peal of laughter raining from her lips. “You took too long to tell me your name so I gave you one. It’s derived from Kind Man, if you must know.” He said his name was Arthur but that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, as she had pretty much declared that he was Kim, regardless of his actual given name. Kim suited him well enough, she thought; it was practically as good—if not better—than his original one, so she couldn’t see him having an issue with her calling him that. “You cool with being called Kim? If you really don’t like it, I won’t call you that but I think it’s a cute nickname.”
“My name?” She hesitated for a second, wondering if she should give him a fake name, but then figured that was pointless since they were going to a store that she co-owned; if he wanted to find out her name, he definitely could search up the store records and find her listed. So she went with the truth for once, a faint smile gracing her lips as her eyes raised to meet his. “It’s Anastasia. Nice to officially meet you.” A light laugh bubbled out of her.
Though she may have appeared to be, Ana wasn’t totally self-absorbed. In her mind, conversation was like a dance; your partner could be not particularly good at it, but if you were a good enough dancer, you could lead them through difficult steps with minimal stumbling—assuming they were willing to put in the effort. Conversing with Kim was like guiding him through a delicate waltz while he remained limp, not contributing any effort to even attempting the steps at all. Ana was good at carrying the conversation, but this wasn’t even in carrying territory anymore; this was her deadlifting the conversation while she ran with it to the finish line.
Even with his minimal—no, non-existent—engagement in the conversation, she could tell it wasn’t because he wasn’t paying attention. Or, at least if he wasn’t paying attention to the words coming out of her mouth, he was definitely paying attention to her. She felt as if he would notice any movement she made, no matter how slight, so she kept her suspiciousness to a minimum, only making very predictable movements that one would expect from her. She didn’t need to give a police officer—nay, a police captain—any reason to suspect her, especially if they would be heading to her store. Despite his evidently limited conversational skills, she kind of liked Kim, as he had a warm air about him that felt comforting to her. Elise would not be happy with her finding a friend in a police officer, but the potential long-term benefits were too good to pass up.
Ana had had a feeling that he might be more inclined to go with her if she mentioned the horrible disappearances that plagued their city, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he replied in the affirmative to her request. She allowed a relieved smile to spread like butter across her lips, and she nodded tightly at him. “Thank you, really.” She hugged herself, her hands rubbing her arms. “It’s been really difficult to not feel wary, especially with more and more people disappearing, as you said… almost feels like anyone could be the kidnapper these days.” Her voice grew soft, and she looked off into the distance, unfocusing her eyes for a moment. “My sister’s older than me but she can still be taken one day, and gosh, she’s all the family I have left. I can’t lose her I-” Her voice broke and her hands fluttered to her lips, eyes closing as she appeared to take a breath to compose herself. Anastasia turned back to him, a strained smile on her lips. “Anyway. Sorry. Just. Thank you.”
Of course she had noticed that he had a prosthetic—it isn’t something that one could easily hide. However, it was rude to point it out, so she played by social rules and didn’t. When his gaze travelled over her shoulder, she followed it, watching him watch the boys react negatively to his prosthetic. Ana doubted it was a coincidence when Kim’s hand moved to his pocket, the movement signalling to her that he wanted to hide it. She frowned, anger simmering as her eyes flicked to the boys. Anastasia didn’t know Kim well, sure, but she had a low tolerance for people who made others feel less than about something they couldn’t control. Why did he put any worth on the opinions of a group of twelve-year-olds, she didn’t know, but still, a very loud f*ck them was ringing in her mind.
A faint memory emerged, pushing itself to the forefront of her mind. She and her sister were children, Elise still young enough that her heart wasn’t protected by its fortress, and as a result, she was easily being cut down by the words of her peers. She’d been caught kissing a girl who’d then accused Elise of forcing herself on her—which wasn’t true—and the aftermath had not been good for Elise at all. She remembered a particular afternoon when a posse of girls harassed her sister. She remembered the same fire burning beneath her skin, in the way her small fists clenched at her sides, The very same f*ck them reverberating in her mind as she walked over there, fists flying.
In the present, her hand was moving again, once again an irrational motion, but instead of an attack, it was gentle and she was pulling his metal hand out of his pocket, intertwining her fingers with his. “F*ck them,” she said as an explanation, voicing her thoughts. “There’s nothing at all wrong with your hand so don’t let them—or anyone really—make you think differently.” This was perhaps the realest she’d been in their whole encounter, her eyes blazing as she clutched this virtual stranger’s hand. “It’s a hand and it’s nothing to be ashamed of at all. So f*ck them. I’d honestly fight them if I wasn’t pretty sure you’d arrest me for like child abuse or something but, Kim, your hand is awesome and it doesn’t matter what they think. What anyone thinks. Okay?”
She turned away from him, starting to walk ahead again. “Now yes. The store. It’s not too far, from here just down [street name]. Just follow me.”
@sunflower.flow hi Kim
The man slowly put his hand in his pocket, feeling the flush of shame flood to his face. A regretful smile seemed to be enough of compensation. “Well, yes, of course.” he stammered out. He stared at the ground, watching the doves she had mentioned. It was easier for them. The little bird’s brain was a remedy for all dilemmas. In fact, he didn’t like ‘his pets’ as much as she thought. He just had to take any inconvenience into account whenever he came here. He needed to accept them, despite everything.
“Fix?” he narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” He was assuming what she referred to. ‘A quick fix’ wouldn’t even be possible with the treatment of the best ointment… it must have been connected to magic or something magical. Arthur had no intention of accepting witchcraft. He considered it to be dangerous and unnecessary. Only reserved for those who are lazy and cannot earn all the luxuries with hard work. Magic was attached with something sinister and unknown. Arthur was disgusted by it. Las Levendas, however, was a city where magical figures lived among ordinary people. Like the pigeons cooing at his feet, Arthur had to accept that. He had no other choice. “Really, you don’t have to.” He shook his head.
The girl gave him a new name - she had decided. How funny. Arthur looked at her as if she was crazy (after all, who names newly-met people?). He was lost for words, and his brain seemed to have stopped working. Although, it might have been caused by an earlier ball accident. He nodded his head understandingly, though he understood little of her explanation. Perhaps it was some new youth trend that was not reserved for the mind of a fifty-year-old man. “I guess I prefer my own name after all.” He started, smiling as nicely as he could. They didn’t know each other well enough to make nicknames. “It’s nice that you think I’m kind. I’m just doing my job. Others would have done the same in my place." He shrugged nonchalantly.
He felt the uncertainty surrounding her - it flowed from her unsteady pupils and closed mouth. Arthur frowned. He would identify if she was lying. The man would also know how to find out what her real name was. He did not rush her. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on every movement of her face. It took her a long moment to introduce herself, The also surprised him with a friendly smile. She didn’t look away, didn’t shake her nose. She was telling the truth. “Nice to meet you, Anastasia.” He nodded, not smiling back at her. “So, Ana, right? And that’s a short for what? Angelic Ally?” he allowed himself to crack a joke. He rarely did it because he never knew what the best time to kid was. Maybe he had misread the signs and the situation now as well? He adjusted his shirt collar nervously, wondering if, if he hit himself with the ball a second time, would he lose his memory.
Arthur felt in his guts that she couldn’t be trusted. As if a soft whisper was telling him that she wasn’t a saint. Intelligent, pretty… could sweep anyone off their feet. Wrap someone around her finger, just like that. Arthur was sure she had manipulated more than one person. In addition, she was doing better in conversation than the others. This girl could convince a man with fear of heights to parachute. She could tell someone that tiptoeing was now fashionable, and it was illegal to wear your hair in a high bun. Arthur had no such skills. Only when he was interrogating someone, but then he was guided by a specific scenario. Arthur followed predefined structures made by better and wiser intellectuals. Here, he had no way of navigating known trails and well-trodden paths. The man had to create a new map without any guidance or help. It was easier to just shut up… and observe because that was what he was well-trained in.
Anastasia made calm, deliberate movements. Calculated to be as least suspicious as possible. She probably wanted to talk him over and distract him from her non-verbal communication. Arthur knew being close to a policeman could be stressful. Usually, it was the innocent ones who sweat the most and switch from foot to foot while Arthur talked to them. Anastasia, on the other hand, was quite conservative. It only made Arthur even more convinced that she was not so innocent. The girl was far from being an angelic ally. But he noticed the natural comfort in her movements as she stood beside him. As if he gave her a sense of security. Assuming she had something to hide, there were tons of benefits to befriending a cop. Too bad Arthur wasn’t the type to make any relationships.
The mysterious aura around her made Arthur seem strangely drawn towards her. He wanted to know who she really was, what she did. It was natural police curiosity. However, in the case of the red-haired woman, it was difficult to read anything from her movements. While definitely questionable, they gave Arthur no specific information. He listened to her voice soften and fly away with the wind that ruffled the hair of both of them. Her eyes fixed on the indescribable distance, searching for answers in the rustling trees. “You do not have to thank me.” He replied calmly. The criminal in question was not kidnapping in broad daylight. So the girl had nothing to fear. Her sudden wave of grief broke Arthur down. Still, his vigilance remained. “The police do everything to ensure the safety of residents. We will not stop working until the perpetrator is caught." He enlightened her with a pre-learned statement. He touched her shoulder uncertainly, squeezing it in a comforting gesture. “Please do not worry.” Anastasia apologized and thanked him, separating each word with a sharp pause. “You don’t have to be sorry. We are all stressed.” He continued in a voice as if he were reading all this from a piece of paper. “Everyone is afraid of losing a loved one. After all, there is no worse… pain in the world.” Only now did his tone show a hint of personal despair. The man bit his lip. He took a deep breath. “We are on guard.”
The girl turned her head towards the laughing boys. Arthur hoped she wasn’t going to pay attention to them. She watched the kids while Arthur used the time to throw the remaining bread crumbs onto the grass and take his candle. Only now did he notice the anger of his interlocutor, which quickly washed the smile off her face. He did not know how to react, so he stood unsurely and tucked his hand into the pocket of his black jacket.
“F^ck them.” Arthur looked up at her in surprise. The jaw dropped slightly, and the eyebrows rose.
He let out a short chuckle “What?” he smiled at her with genuine relief in his brownish eyes. They have lost their chocolate shine long ago. The woman reached for his hand, and Arthur froze in horror. He couldn’t physically feel her touch, yet his heart paused each time she ran a finger across his metal hand. He didn’t know how to overcome the sudden discomfort that had suddenly invaded his stomach, dislocating all his guts. The girl started talking… and she spoke honestly. She really tried to comfort him, and not for her own satisfaction. Even though Arthur did not expect this from her, he was grateful for it. “I… I thank you.” He quickly took his hand from hers. Despite such an aggressive move, the smile on his face was genuine. His wife used to tell him the same thing. “My wife used to tell me the same thing,” he bit his tongue as his thoughts slipped out from his mouth.
He pressed the candle closer to his chest, sighing heavily. His wife was the only one he could talk to. With her, every topic seemed simple, as if Arthur knew all the turns without looking at the GPS first. He didn’t have to worry about whether what he said was adequate or not. The man didn’t have to rethink his opinion many times before allowing it to be heard by others. He could also talk about her because it was one topic he felt comfortable with. Maybe that was why he accidentally mentioned her? Wanting to get back to that safer place? At the same time, every memory of his wife caused him terrible suffering. Oh, such a paradox.
“Are we going then, or will we be standing here?” one of the little boys said contemptuously to the two.
Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head as if it might help clear the shame he felt right now. “Yes, of course. So, please, lead the way, Anastasia.” He turned towards her slowly, following the girl.
@unsungcheerio ~ Anastasia Tremaine
what is a title anyways it’s lefou ok
Though no one could soothe Gaston like LeFou, that did not mean doing so was an easy task. No one would mistake LeFou for a man with confidence, a man who carried himself with pride. Especially not in his current state-trudging after such a man as Gaston. Compared to Gaston, he was meek, tiny, and shameful. Next to such a burly, muscular, and outspoken individual, LeFou was invisible. He felt invisible with how Gaston was treating him. But even without Gaston, LeFou had never been one with much self esteem. The one thing that gave LeFou a sliver of pride was the ability to soothe Gaston, his words smoothing away the angry wrinkles, pushing his lips into a smile. Gaston was still ignoring him. It seemed he couldn’t do anything right today.
It didn’t seem to be Gaston’s day, and LeFou was not helping. Though forgetting the teacup incident, there were other factors in the equation. Though LeFou had put most of the blame on his shoulders, it seemed the entire world was trying to upset him today. With gazes that did not show the man the appreciation he deserved and strange, taunting gestures. The redheaded waitress who had sloshed some tea on the table. The brunette who had disrespected him, the strange gazes from those in the cafe. It was all a buildup, and LeFou was the cherry on top. Though, he felt more like the entire sundae. He didn’t want to cast any blame on the two women. It didn’t matter where the two were, LeFou was always the one messing up and making Gaston upset. His body closely resembled a deflated balloon, head low, arms limp, swinging slightly at his sides, tight to his body. Was his apology accepted? it was hard to tell…Gaston simply continued to frown-perhaps he hadn’t even noticed. Either way, it did not seem to be enough. LeFou almost wanted to apologize again-this time for speaking.
“LeFou.” The reason Gaston was saying his friend’s name was a mystery. Another scolding? To forgive? He didn’t want to get his hopes up, though his head lifted slightly, brown eyes moving from the blackened snow to his tall, muscular friend. “Next time…try to stick to your cup.” It was a piece of advice-though a bit unnecessary looking at it from the outside. Obviously, LeFou would never make such a mistake again. And luckily, they would never return to the cafe. It would be a lot easier to push what had happened to the back of his mind (along with his other mistakes). Besides, then, he wouldn’t have to think about how he’d embarrassed Gaston in front of everyone everytime he went there. He didn’t know what to say. He only pressed his lips together, nodding. “I will.” He promised quietly, not wanting to say nothing at all. That could be taken as another act of disrespect.
Gaston’s expression was still dim and stormy-his eyes black, his jaw clenched, his motions harsh and full of fury. But there was a …less metaphorical storm in their midst. He could hear the chatters of people, and the slams of doors as people shut themselves in their apartments to protect themselves from the snowstorm. The sky stirred with blackened clouds, the wind seemed to blow the two men backwards, doing everything it could to keep them from the bookstore and Belle’s gift. LeFou struggled even more to keep up. Trudging through the deep snow became twice as hard, he could hardly open his wet eyes. But he didn’t stop for breath. Despite how helpless he looked, it was clear he was doing his best to keep up with-and continue following- his companion. Gaston certainly showed no signs of giving in. In fact, he seemed unaffected. Really, it was almost as if the weather had decided to match the mood. Ironic.
The wind seemed to pass through his woolen sweater, brushing icy tendrils against his chest. His teeth began to chatter-though he did his best to hide this. The sound of teeth chattering could not be heard over the chatters of the townspeople-or the howling of that chilling wind. The flaps of the jacket were tossed about wildly, as if the wind were trying to strip it off of LeFou and leave him even colder. “LeFou.” Gaston was looking at him, saying his name once more. That same hope lit inside LeFou, a tiny match in the darkness. Though uncertainty lurked there as well, threatening to put out the flame with cold, dampened fingers. “Button up. It is cold.” It was muttered, but not in the dark, disappointed tone from earlier. Was it just the wind…or was there a hint of compassion? Immediately, chubby fingers fumbled for the buttons, securing them as well as he can. It was natural for LeFou to follow Gaston’s orders, even if they wouldn’t necessarily benefit him. He felt some sort of magical warmth that wasn’t just from the coat wrapped tightly around him. Warmness in his chest, flushing his cheeks as he looked away bashfully. The red cheeks weren’t just from frost, either. The care Gaston had shown… it made his love feel more intense, it made him feel as if he were reliving a piece of their past. Gaston had always been the one to help him-and though he was quite into himself, he did care for LeFou. At least, this is what LeFou tried to tell himself as he smiled very slightly at Gaston. Any arrogance-not that Gaston was very arrogant- was completely justified.ik that sounds DUMB IDK WHAT IM DOING HELP okay sorry, bye
“I know…I know it’s a good plan.” Gaston agreed not-so-humbly. LeFou nodded multiple times-enthusiastic nods. Though the excitement did not show much through dull brown eyes and a slight pout. He felt nervous to get too excited when Gaston hadn’t even accepted the apology. The sugary white flakes had turned into spiky crystals. LeFou had to keep his head down even more, this was dangerous. With every step, his feet slipped on the ice just a little bit, threatening to slid out from under him and send him falling into the snow. Gaston kept his head high despite the storm, though continuing at the same pace. His hands were tucked into his armpits-LeFou doubted he was not cold. LeFou kept walking-a way to show silent support.
“LeFou…” The third time Gaston said his name. This was whimpered, containing a a shred of vulnerability. Their eyes met-they were vulnerable too. “I’ve always wanted sons.” LeFou knew this-Gaston had talked about it before. Genuinely, he had been surprised he didn’t have sons already, with how important they were to him. This led him to assume perhaps Gaston was not very satisfied marriage-wise. Of course, he would play dumb and NEVER voice this assumption-it would be horribly offensive. Was he happy about the situation? It would be hard to be with the pain in those blue eyes. But it would be crushing when Belle gave Gaston those six handsome sons. Something LeFou could never give his friend-among plenty of other things. Again, reminding him of how she was everything he wasn’t. “I thought she knew that offsprings were very important to me.” LeFou nodded understandingly, listening attentively, but not speaking yet, and trying not to get too lost in his own thoughts Though he did have to focus a bit on keeping up. “And she said, you wouldn’t believe it… she said there was nothing to rush into. I thought I was going to punch something.” LeFou’s wet hands, still clutching his coat, clenched, almost reflecting last night’s emotions. He could almost feel his friend’s anger. He shook his head, almost regretfully. “You know what kind of attention.” LeFou did. And he felt quite jealous in that moment. Though soon, he also pitied Belle a bit. Maybe she was tired. But he brushed that away-who would be too tired when it was…that? With Gaston?
LeFou was sweet and empathetic, and while he had now taken on Gaston’s problems as his own, putting them on his bent back, he could not exactly understand too well. He was used to this.
Neither men nor women ever desired him. Not that he had made any advances, but besides today… no one really tried anything with Gaston’s pathetic friend. or maybe he didn’t notice whoops Rejection, disinterest… it was something he experienced in large amounts on the daily. Though Gaston was not used to it. He was used to the admiration of everyone. Men, women, and those who did not fit in either would bend to his will, praise him. Women would flock after him, vying for his attention. So Belle being the only woman besides Esme rip who didn’t seem to do that was frustrating, as she was his wife. “Why wouldn’t she…” LeFou started… “I just can’t comprehend Belle.” He finished, knowing Gaston couldn’t either. “Too tired to be a good wife? Too tired to bear you a handsome firstborn?” He shook his head. He wanted to emphasize first, though he knew his role was the cheer up his friend, lifting him out of his funk. “Things might be a bit off with her, Gaston. It’s not your fault.” He offered a hopeful smile. “After tonight, things will change. The atmosphere of the tavern, the drinks, the chat… and when you get home…” He trailed off. “Things will be different is all I’m saying.” He spoke warmly, despite the cold, screaming wind. He was trying to assure Gaston things would go his way soon. Though to be honest, he was not completely sure. He was glad Gaston was confiding in him, though. He was regaining his best friend, which made him a bit excited.
He felt like it was okay to approach his friend again. The struggle was stepping closer to him, but he edged closer, fingers grasping for the hem of the lobster-red coat. Though, of course, he didn’t clench it right yet. “Gaston…could I…I’m slipping…” He asked. He was in a weak, and vulnerable position, looking up at his friend with watery eyes. If this offended Gaston, it was back down the icy slope- and to square one.
i loved your post so much, gorgeoussss
i wish i had that talent- ugh
anyways word count : 1,697
i hope you enjoy, sorry for the delay!
Present day ~ December 3rd
LeFou’s behavior was thoroughly satisfying. He followed Gaston politely, trying to keep up with the long strides his friend was taking. He also promised never to embarrass Gaston again as he did today. May it be like that because Gaston wasn’t going to be so understanding the second time. And most importantly, he buttoned himself properly, following Gaston’s instructions. But there was still a distinct blush on his friend’s cheeks. Its redness reflected against the snow, giving the scene the richness it needed. The man tried to hide his flushed features. He was probably ashamed of the fact that even with his jacket buttoned up, he was shivering from the cold. After all, only the frost could color LeFou’s chops with ruby paint. “If you’re still cold, you should invest in a scarf and gloves,” Gaston said, snorting under his breath. After all, it was only a slight snowstorm. Gaston felt a chill run down his spine. After all, he had neither gloves nor even a simple handkerchief to hide his exposed neck. He chattered his teeth, straightened his chest, and, head raised, strode forward as if he were no longer sensitive to the cold.
After much consideration, Gaston decided that LeFou deserved official mercy. “Fine, dear LeFou. I guess I can forgive you. At least for now. It all depends on what tonight will be like." He gave him a warning look. “If it’s a failure… I don’t know if I’ll be that kind.” Of course, there was a ‘book gift’ included as well, but whether or not LeFou was successful in it, both of them wouldn’t be able to find out until during Christmas.
“Why wouldn’t she… I just can’t comprehend Belle.” LeFou stuttered out. Hands clenched on the jacket told Gaston that he wasn’t the only one who was absolutely shocked by the situation. His friend continued. With the skill of an actual advocate, making any arguments that cast Belle in an accusatory light. After all, really… how could one be tired of HIM? The one and only Gaston? Indeed, a person as intelligent as Belle should know that Gaston was the diamond in her drab life.
“I also… don’t understand it, dear friend.” Gaston nodded. “Belle stays in that bookstore of hers all the time. So I have to keep myself entertained and go to those godd*mn cafes,” It was terrifying. Every other girl would flitter around him and would be at his request, ready to fulfill all his whims. Gaston didn’t know what was wrong with Belle that she wasn’t sticking to these truths in life. She was a beauty phenomenon. Among women, of course. After all, Gaston’s appeal was not even matched by Narcissus himself). But maybe she was also a strange biological case.
LeFou simply agreed with him, stating that there might actually be something wrong with Belle.
“The weird thing is, she was acting like a good wife at first.” Gaston shared his thoughts with his friend. “I don’t understand what must have changed in her environment that she became so… well… dry.” Could this be a job in a bookstore? Maybe she found a new girlfriend? But even she couldn’t be worthy of more time than him. “After all, the problem is definitely not on my side. I stayed the same." A cocky smirk appeared on Gaston’s face. “After all… there was, and still is, no need to change me.”
A friend tickled Gaston’s larger-than-life ego. A smile appeared on his face, which was bursting with a refreshing source of pride. It filled Gaston’s whole, satisfying his thirsty soul. Hydrated, he charmed LeFou with his sympathetic gaze. His eyes glistened with a cerulean glow under the sharply falling snow. They looked like two magical sapphires, precious and refined… a treasure you couldn’t take your eyes off of.
LeFou assured Gaston that tonight’s trip to the tavern would change everything. The mere thought made Gaston’s broken heart feel warmer. In his territory, he would be able to indulge in any charismatic gesture and sweep Belle off her feet. Maybe they will even recall those teenage years when they first met, and everything was as it should be. “Oh…” Gaston let out a pleased murmur of excitement. “It will definitely be as you say. It can not be otherwise. Belle won’t be able to resist me." He assured his friend, although it was more directed towards his own mind. Despite the belief that a bit of beer and obscene dancing would make Belle change her mind, a dose of uncertainty filled a tiny part of Gaston’s subconsciousness. What if that only made matters worse? Belle may, after all, find this meeting unnecessary or pretend to be bored just to upset him. What for? Maybe for some sick satisfaction of her own.
However, it was necessary to focus on the positives because only these were found in Gaston’s life. Everything was served to him as if on a golden plate. He won a lottery ticket every time, and luck treated him like the most beloved son. In his mind, he went to their home.
It was night. A dim light illuminated the corridor. Outside the window, one could hear a quiet whistling wind. The moon was leaning out from behind a clumsily drawn curtain. First, they got rid of their shoes, then their jackets and top garments. Their movements were quick, greedy, and the fact that clothes remained unharmed was astonishing. His hand rested gently on her perfectly built figure. It slowly traced through each curve and curl. Their lips were gently breathing against themselves, so close, though so far. Suddenly her hand touched his shoulder. She ran her fingers over his Greek carved muscles. Long wavy hair tickled his naked back as she leaned toward him. The pinkish lips moved closer to his ear and whispered that slow, lethal “Gaston…” It sounded so authentic that Gaston believed she was really here. Her touch, too, felt exceptionally “present”. Almost as if she was right next to him. Wait a minute…
Gaston glanced to the side, distracted from his fantasy. The voice he heard in his dream belonged not to Belle but to his friend. LeFou hesitantly gripped the red sleeve of Gaston’s jacket, and it was his hand that made Gaston feel this pleasant sensation.
“What now?!” he shouted, feeling his face slowly started to burn him. The blush attacked his cheeks almost immediately, and Gaston wished LeFou would think it was from the terrible cold this time. His companion looked at him misty-eyed, nervously explaining that he might slip soon. He needed someone to hold on. In fact, his friend’s legs swayed dangerously on the ice, and it would only take one hesitant step for both of them to collapse in the Snow Queen’s icy maw. Gaston looked around. Everyone hid in warm houses. There weren’t any witnesses… that was the most important thing. Gaston clicked his tongue and let out a loud sigh. “Well, fine.” He muttered. He took his friend’s hand and, on his own, set it on the place of the bend of the arm. He adjusted his friend’s grip with his fingers and tightened the grasp - to make sure it was secured and strong enough. He patted his friend’s frozen hand. He had to be sure LeFou was holding him well. Otherwise, they would end up in the snow anyway, in an even more uncomfortable position. They could not allow this unacceptable situation to happen.
Gaston couldn’t look at his friend without that stupid sense of warmth seeping into his stomach and cheeks. The man looked down at the ground, watching his own footsteps, and explained his behavior as the need to calculate each move. So as not to accidentally lead to an unfortunate slip.
It was best to focus his thoughts on something else. And also bring LeFou back into the position of a faithful friend, on that matter. Fortunately, Gaston never ran out of conversation topics.
“You won’t believe what Aphro confessed to me last night, LeFou,” he began, presumably gaining the attention and curiosity of his interlocutor. “We were sitting on her couch. After a brief dispute, which of course she had caused, she suddenly leaned over to me and touched my thigh or shoulder with her hand. Whatever." Gaston waved his hand. “Well, so, I also bent over, responding to her advances, grabbing her waist tighter.” He said in a passionate voice. He folded his arm, even more, clenching LeFou’s hand to better visualize his story. “She was expecting a kiss. Well, in vain. She was too desperate to deserve it at that time." The man snorted contemptuously. Though he understood why women were so… sympathetic to his approaches, it was in no way demanding. Gaston needed a challenge. A woman who would play hard to get. He was a hunter, after all. “At last, I slowly closed the gap between us. My breath lightly touched her plump mouth, and my hand ran slowly through the locks of black hair." He whispered. He took a moment to pause, only to unexpectedly shout, “BUT SHE! She took my hand away. Can you believe it? Well, of course, I started asking why she had done that. Because it was unimaginably stupid, right?” Gaston nodded to himself, not waiting for LeFou to confirm his observations as well. “Of course, Aphro quickly learned that this was indeed a reprehensible mistake. Fortunately, she, unlike Belle, could come to this obvious conclusion. But back to the heart of the matter…,” he grunted to catch his breath for a moment.
He continued his monologue, flooding LeFou with another stream of words. “She tried to explain herself. That the hand slipped by itself, that it was not her. Of course, that was not true. I knew it very well." Gaston sighed. “And she dared to be so suddenly worried about me because, of course, she immediately asked if I was okay. And before that, she didn’t care how much Belle hurt my soul. Instead, she was laughing at my despair." He snorted. “I replied that she didn’t worry about me at all, that she lied, and how could she had rejected me?” Gaston raised his voice, echoing the atmosphere of yesterday night. “Well, and she then… well, well, LeFou, guess what she did then. Well, you will NOT believe it. This is so hilarious.” Gaston laughed wholeheartedly, casting a quick glance at his chubby companion.
@ethereal ~ Marcel LeFou
YOUR POST MADE ME CRY SO MUCH
I smiled as I nodded I wanted to hear any childhood story he would tell me. I was especially curious where he had learned to skate even though I am sure he had the same question about me. I cuddled in hoping it was light hearted and sweet I needed a soft story and I think he knew that. I also think he wanted to share his past but didnt know where to start. That is how I felt to, I wanted to share my past with him but didnt know how.
I stayed cuddled close as I listen to his story and smile. I was trying to picture everything as he told the story. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on him as I listened intently with a soft smile placed gently across my lips. As I listened I could tell how important his mom was to him and all the love in his voice but he was sad too. I hugged him gently because of his ribs. I wanted him to know he was loved though. “That is a really sweet story Gen.” I say as I smile and open my eyes. “You are good at telling stories too I felt like I was right there with you as you talked about it.”
LOCATION: HER HOUSE // DECEMBER 2ND
Aphro liked the movie they were watching. It wasn’t bad. If she remembered correctly, it was ‘Being John Mal-someone’. She didn’t bother trying to remember the movie’s name. It was confusing at times, but it didn’t matter. She was just glad that the fighting had stopped (for now). Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Gaston turned the television off and turned to her. “What? Is it not good?” she asked. “And I was still watching that…” she muttered to herself, barely audible. She was afraid of saying it out loud. It was the middle of the night, and she wanted to do anything other than arguing. She had enough fights for a day and was exhausted. But she wouldn’t be surprised if Gaston started again. He was just that kind of person; who misunderstands things a lot, was oblivious, and would begin squabbling about every little thing which was of no importance. Aphro had to be mindful when speaking with him.
Most of their stupid arguments happened when they started conversing with each other. ‘Maybe that’s the problem…’ Aphro thought to herself with furrowed eyebrows. She was right, though! There was absolutely nothing wrong with their relationship. Everything would be perfect if they stopped talking. Yes, that was it! If they stopped speaking with each other, everything would be perfect! No more fights, no more arguments. Just sauna! He would eventually fall in love with her, and they would live happily ever after! Or that’s what she thinks. She is stupid to believe this would work; because it wouldn’t. It would just create more problems between them. But who is going to tell her that? For now, let her live in her little bubble.
“Pour us some wine.” Gaston said. “Huh? What?” she turned to him. “Oh, right, wine!” she said and scrambled to the kitchen. She picked two wine glasses from the glass cabinet and the most expensive wine from the wine cooler. She poured the wine into the glasses and kept the wine bottle back into the cooler. Aphro took the glasses to Gaston, who was now in her bedroom. ‘Who told you to go there, huh?’ she bit her tongue to stop herself from saying that out loud. “Here,” she handed him his glass and smiled, clinking their glasses. “Careful,” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t want wine all over my sheets.” she looked down at the dark red wine in her glass and took a sip. It was good. “Do you like it?” she glanced at him. Soon, she found herself staring at him. She brought her fingers to his face, tracing his striking features, from his sharp nose to his thin, light-pink lips. They were a bit chapped. “You should moisturise your lips…” she said in a whispery voice.
@SUNFLOWER.FLOW // 467 words- so close- //
I smiled as I looked outside. “Thanks, I wish I could take you someday, but that place now only brings sadness and the pond itself no longer exists” I explain and snuggled closer. The way we were sitting was a big relief for my ribs but when the bus stopped, I let out a slight groan as I got up. “Looks like we’re here,” I said as we got out and the warmth of the bus got replaced by the cold wind of the snowy valley. “Something tells me once we reach the lake, it’s hot chocolate first” I said as I took Archer’s hand. “Come on my ice prince” I joked.
Previous day ~ December 2nd
He ignored her when she said she wanted to keep watching the movie. He didn’t care. For Gaston, it was most important that Aphro was there for him. It had always been like that, and it will always be so.
So she liked him, huh? How amusing it was, mainly based on how many times she has told him that she wasn’t. Her confession, however, was not at all surprising. Everyone loved him.
Gaston, nevertheless, had no intention of risking his marriage for her. Although she was enchanting… she didn’t have that “it” factor. The girl tried to be harsh with him but eventually cracked faster than Gaston expected her to. She wasn’t quite as good wife material as Belle was. She would bring him shame sooner or later. While he still thought that if he wasn’t with Belle, Aphro would be option two, he chose not to ponder over these hypotheses. He fancied being her forbidden fruit. Her sweet poison. Something so distant and impossible that made her mad from passion - something she wanted but would never own.
She was supposed to satisfy his whims. The girl brought the wine he asked for. Gaston gave her a contented smile. His eyes told her, ‘I won.’
The man took the wine from her. He placed the glass against the shining moon. The drink was clear and rich in color - a beam of light passed nicely through the alcohol. Aphro sat down next to him, asking him not to stain the new sheets. True, it was snow-white and pleasantly soft. Gaston snorted. Did she think she had no manners? Terrifying. He put the glass to his mouth. He emptied it in one gulp and put the hollow vessel on the bedside table with a soft smile. The wine seemed expensive. He knew that thanks to his previous analysis. In addition, the harmonious taste of the alcohol lingered nicely on his tongue.
“It wasn’t the worst.” He answered her question, not giving her the satisfaction of pleasing him. She would have to work harder if she really wanted to achieve that.
He noticed she was glancing at him. He witnessed her reach out her delicate hand and touch his face - her fingers wandered to his nose, cheeks, sharp jaw. Gaston was silent, letting himself be admired by her. He lingered on her eyes, which roamed with delight over his striking features. She rested a slender finger on the man’s lips.
She whispered, “You should moisturize your lips…”
Gaston brought fingers to his mouth. His skin felt coarse. He had always cared for his lips, and he concluded they must have been so chapped due to stress. Keeping his blue eyes on Aphro, he trailed his tongue over his mouth. Wet with saliva, it glowed with a glistening glaze. He gently moved his lips between his teeth, biting them lightly. He smiled pugnaciously. “Are they better now?” he asked lowly.
@elixr ~ Aphrodite Florakis
made a new nametag because i am so lazy we love that || december third, gaston
The silence was chilling, though LeFou supposed it could be worse-silence often meant all had been said, and there was nothing left to be upset about. Perhaps it was over, and all memory of what had happened in the cafe would blow away in the icy wind. The warmth that his now-buttoned coat gave him also gave him a ray of hope, and a bit of a different emotion. “If you’re still cold, you should invest in a scarf and gloves.” Gaston suggested, snorting, as how ridiculous LeFou looked with scarlet-painted cheeks. “You’re right.” LeFou agreed somberly. Gaston liked to be right-and he was. This only made him flush deeper-he let himself think this was Gaston’s way of accepting his apology and even worrying about him. He was able to ignore the gruff, commanding tone, and focus on the words, the words that said, “Be careful LeFou, you might catch a cold.” LeFou did have gloves and a scarf-he had forgotten them at his home, though. He hadn’t expected to be out in the middle of a blizzard, pushing through icy sheets, all for his best friend’s marriage. Hopefully he could find the perfect book, and Gaston would be satisfied in the end. That was all that mattered. Gaston seemed to be plowing through like a tractor… but if LeFou was becoming numb, there was no way Gaston was not becoming at least a bit…“Are you…cold, Gaston?” LeFou asked hesitantly.
There was another silent moment-well…not silent at all. People still shrieked, doors slammed shut. The wind howled, drops splattered on LeFou’s skin. Silence, in this moment, meant neither of the men spoke. And to LeFou, that felt like silence. “Fine, dear LeFou.” When Gaston spoke, LeFou’s heart pounded faster, though skipped a beat at the word ‘dear’. “I guess I can forgive you.” LeFou smiled hopefully, squinting through the hail. But he did not see a comfortable, endearing smile. He did not see eyes full of forgiveness, only a rigid, threatening face. “If it’s a failure… I don’t know if I’ll be that kind.” LeFou felt a lump the size of a snowball travel down his throat. “T-Thank you, Gaston,” He stammered out eventually, voice shivering. “It won’t be.” He added, trying to sound sincere, but instead sounding desperate-which he was. Was he making promises he couldn’t keep? LeFou had no choice. If tonight didn’t go well… he would deal with that later. In the moment, he just had to regain Gaston’s favor.
“I also…don’t understand it, dear friend.” Gaston admitted, nodding as he said this. “Belle stays in that bookstore of hers all the time. So I have to keep myself entertained and go to those d-mn cafes.” LeFou winced at Gaston’s last words, closing his eyes, tucking his head into his shoulders. That stung. It shouldn’t have. LeFou was used to being second best…or just not the first option. But that didn’t mean he was immune to the hurt. The conversations they’d shared. Gaston’s booming laughter when LeFou cracked a joke. The smile playing on his lips when LeFou tried to cheer him up. The drinks coming in so many different flavors-Gaston had excellent taste. LeFou always ordered the same as Gaston- a great choice indeed. The drinks were deep and rich, warming his entire stomach while Gaston’s sparkling blue eyes warmed his heart. He’d enjoyed those days, despite the drops of dark liquid that now stained the hem of his favorite shirt, the time he’d tripped and made Gaston look foolish, the time the cookie he’d tried didn’t agree with him later on. He always enjoyed being in Gaston’s company-finally being the one Gaston chose. Why was he surprised that even though it was so important to him, it was practically nothing to Gaston? Still, he hid this with a nod, and empathetic frown. Gaston should be spending time with the woman he was in love with. Not making memories that would fade in a day.
“The weird thing is, she was acting like a good wife at first.” Gaston continued. LeFou was careful not to speak too much-this was about Gaston, after all. “I don’t understand what must have changed in her environment that she became so… well… dry.” LeFou almost choked at the word usage. Gaston said the problem was certainly not him, and LeFou gave another firm nod. Of course it wasn’t Gaston, he was the perfect husband. Though he was not so sure about what had changed… he had no clue where to start. It wasn’t like Gaston had changed, he always remained his perfect self. A different factor must have changed in Belle’s life… LeFou did not know her well enough to even form a guess. “Of course not.” LeFou said, quickly, and with some frustration behind it. Why would anyone want to change Gaston? Especially Belle, who had plenty she could work on herself? He couldn’t understand-she had the perfect man right in her grasp- “It must have been her… or something else.” LeFou added, using the word ‘something’ instead of ‘someone’. Gaston had probably already thought of that, and he didn’t want to make things worse. “Why would she want to change you? You’re…perfect.” The last word was breathy, and genuine, full of awe.
“Oh…” Gaston murmured this, sapphires shining despite the darkening sky, hypnotizing LeFou. More cerulean than the sky before a blizzard, deeper than an ocean. There was a strange undertone to it all, one LeFou could not figure out-not that his mind was even functioning properly at the moment. “It will definitely be as you say. It can not be otherwise. Belle won’t be able to resist me.” Gaston’s dreamy words were enough to loosen LeFou from his daydreams. In reality, LeFou did not know if things would go as he said at all. The tavern did not seem like the kind of place you would find bookish, quiet, Belle-it was literally the opposite of the bookstore. Would she be bored? Awkward? Hopefully not unpleasant. LeFou did not bring up these worries, though. It was important that Gaston felt as confident as possible. If they both had confidence in this plan, it was more likely to work. “Trust me, Gaston. Tonight will be the best night of your marriage.” He assured him, flashing a firm smile that showed no nervousness nor tremor.
Often, things seemed to go Gaston’s way. Lucky pennies were sprinkled in his path. He was the person who was allowed to cut in grocery lines when in a hurry-with no grimacing and mutters from the line. LeFou had never seen him lose even a coin toss. So why had the sun turned it’s glowing face from him? What was happening to his poor best friend?
Gaston was not looking at him anymore. In fact, he didn’t seem to be looking at anything at all. His eyes had glazed over, though his lips were no longer in a jagged, harsh frown. Instead, a small smile, eyelids lowering over his blue pupils. He did not snap out of this as LeFou crept up to him, grasping at the jacket-which had been splattered with water droplets. Just as his fingers brushed the deep red fabric…“What now?!” He was scolded, not only with harsh words, but with a disturbed, angry face, that seemed to glow red in the midst of the hail. LeFou was taken aback slightly, but didn’t dare step away-for fear he would slip on the ice. What was he doing? Did he not know how to control himself anymore? How to resist temptation? His expression was regretful. Luckily, no one was around anymore to see the pitiful man-no sane person would be out here in this storm. He clicked his tongue, sighing. He seemed exasperated with LeFou once more…but before another apology could be uttered… “Well, fine.” His Jaw dropped. He began to stutter-but the sounds were too quiet and jumbled for anyone to understand. His hand felt warm as Gaston grabbed it, placing it inside the bend of his very toned, muscular arm. LeFou’s arm felt numb and it wasn’t from the frigid weather. Warmth traveled through his veins, bringing back color to his cheeks-a bold pink spreading across his entire face. Gaston’s fingers met his ungloved ones, carefully placing them in the right position.
Gaston stared at the snow-covered ground. He was probably very embarrassed to be in this position, even though it was unlikely anyone was watching except for two psychotic Gafou shippers named Ethie and Smarta. This was the second time that day he had humiliated Gaston by letting his guard down, getting lost in his foolish desires. But… he wasn’t about to let go either. He leaned closer ever-so-slightly, allowing his fingers to clench at the muscle, still very able to be felt, even under all of the layers. He couldn’t help but let a smile take over his lips, as he looked up at Gaston with admiration,
love, and perhaps a bit of nervousness. “…Thank you, Gaston.” His tone matched the stupid grin on his face. His tone was, without a doubt, one-hundred percent genuine. He grasped even tighter as he nearly slipped. He supposed he should be looking at his feet as well.
Gaston was speaking again, and LeFou was almost paying full attention. It was hard… he wanted to soak in this moment the same way his worn coat was absorbing the water droplets and more. He wanted to engrave this memory into his brain-the feeling of walking alone with his best friend-the man he was in love with. The feeling of his hand tucked safely into the nook of Gaston’s arm…almost as if they were lovers. The colors-brilliant red and pinks, impossible to miss, despite the grey. His memories with Gaston were things he treasured more than anything material, stored in his head, popping into his mind almost all of the time. Always bittersweet, but sweet nonetheless. And a bank full of reasons he could never let Gaston go.
The word Aprhro gained the rest of his attention. His brows raised, and he turned to Gaston, intrigued. He always hung on every word Gaston said, no matter if it would wound, or lift him above the clouds. He paid attention, then thought of exactly what to say. “Oh?” Gaston began to tell a story-in very vivid detail-involving Aprho of course. LeFou could practically feel that moment’s passion as Gaston gripped his hand so tightly, it felt cramped. His heart was also cramping up with every description of Aphro-and what she and Gaston had shared with each other. Grabbing her waist. Running his perfect fingers through her perfect hair. Plump mouth. His voice was low and husky…perhaps a part of him felt back in that wonderful, passionate moment. “BUT SHE!” Gaston suddenly snapped, making LeFou jump a bit. He couldn’t believe she took his hand away. How dare woman treat Gaston so poorly? He could not comprehend. His heart beat even faster than before.
Gaston was speaking very quickly, his fury showing. “She was laughing at my despair.” LeFou would never do that. lied. rejected. LeFou would never do those either. LeFou shook his head even more-unable to comprehend everything. Aphro might be even more of a puzzle than Belle. He met Gaston’s eyes, “Go on, what?” He asked, not impatiently or rudely, more with awe and shock-curiousity to hear the rest. What was so hilarious? What was so unbelievable? He stopped breathing, hanging on every syllable now.
@sunflower.flow ~ gaston legume
MY POST MADE ME CRY SO MUCH- HOW AWFUL
anyways imagine being able to write like how you did- ITS AMAZING you did so well sjddkdk
goal : 1,743
words : 1,911
PLEASE don’t feel like you have to match! it’s all gouda
Present day ~ December 3rd
I believe that when you are with me, a fire burns in your heart. You look at me with the embers as your eyes.
I touch you, and your skin tingles under my fingers.
You touch me, and I’m born again.
I believe we will stay like this forever. Burned from this feeling.
We will live but suffer in flames.
I believe, therefore I am.
You love, therefore you suffer.
Silence could be meaningful. It could be louder than a shout, clearer than words. Bathed in its embrace, wet with snow, they moved forward. One of them warmed by the power of love, the other freezing in the heat of the former’s feelings.
Gaston was unaware of LeFou’s emotions; he noticed his blissful smiles, goo-goo eyes, and vague whispers. He did not suspect him of love - Gaston did not understand this feeling. He loved his wife. It wasn’t true.
However, he was able to use the information he had collected over the years. LeFou was weak under his touch and piercing eyes. He would do anything if Gaston only tamed him with that life-giving smile. This knowledge allowed Gaston to benefit from his friend’s innocent heart. He gave small gestures of kindness in return for his obedience. Perhaps this consideration was partially authentic. There was a grain of sincerity in every lie.
Now, too, by asking him to button his jacket, he was building the foundation for his friend’s following use. Even so, a genuine smile appeared on his face as LeFou agreed with his suggestion to buy gloves. Something broke deep down in him.
“Are you… cold, Gaston?” the uncertain question escaped LeFou’s lips. Unlike the former, his concern was not aligned with selfish intentions.
Gaston pushed his chest forward. Snow beat off his brawny ribs. “I’m never cold, LeFou.” It was easy for a man with an icy heart. Gaston looked serious. His hands were shaking. His lips were blue from the melting ice on them. “Never assume that.”
Gaston didn’t know, or maybe he didn’t want to realize, that he was hurting LeFou with this dialogue. He broke his heart with words as sharp as icicles.
They spent time together. Always. They have been doing it so much lately that Gaston has started to question his friend’s position in the hierarchy of his companions. He wondered if his vertical mobility was going up or down. With each meeting, his friend grew restlessly annoying. Today (and not only) - he made him embarrassed. Once, he, for example, spilled cold beer on Gaston when he stumbled (on the air, he thought - LeFou was charmingly clumsy). The crimson shirt could no longer be saved.
And yet… yet, those encounters evoked a pleasant ecstasy to which he had no courage to admit to. Gaston rejoiced in his subconscious at their forays. He put on the pedestal of his memories every song LeFou sang to him indistinctly (because after a few mugs of beer). His smile warmed him. His massages were relaxing. LeFou comforted him, made him laugh, and worshiped him. He was always there, even when the chopping snow blocked their way.
Gaston’s inborn boldness led him to be ready to lose it all for one successful meeting with his wife. One moment with her was worth more than a thousand with LeFou. It was more mattering for his reputation than for his soul.
Pragmatically speaking, he should be glad to see the possibility of his wife appearing in the tavern. She would certainly like it there. Essentially, what could be more associated with her husband than alcohol and trite excesses. She loved him… so she would love the place too. And that pleased him. However, something was weighing on his heart. It could be described as something strange, something that has been there for a long time. Perhaps once he knew what it was. He previously could identify it, name it even. Now it had mixed into a dubious mush. This thing, shrouded in a haze of his ego and narcissism, was gone… but not lost.
LeFou agreed with him. Not for the first time, and probably not the last. He seemed occupied analyzing Belle’s behavior. His bewilderment and disbelief were hidden under cherry cheeks. “She recently installed a coffee machine,” Gaston said, desperately trying to look for evidence. He was surprised he remembered such insignificant details. It couldn’t be it, though. Coffee, even if imported straight from Ethiopia, couldn’t be better than him, Gaston himself.
Nothing could be better than him.
LeFou also seemed to be in a fix. He didn’t seem to agree with it all himself, and he put it quite bluntly, stating that Gaston was, after all, perfect.
Gaston deemed he was more than perfect. He was immaculate, incomparable, and his whole was underestimated in just one two-syllable word. There were, however, more adjectives in LeFou’s sentence; they clung to the tongue, trying to squeeze to the surface. At least, Gaston could figure that out based on his voice - filled with rapture. Although the word ‘rapture’ also could not reflect what his timbre sounded like.
“Then ideality is not enough for Belle,” he said bitterly. “But…” he put his mouth into a pout, the ‘th’ syllable almost escaping them. “Thinking about it is ridiculous.” He finished quickly. That wasn’t what he meant to say. “However, I agree with you.” Only now did he allow himself to smile. It was delicate as snowflakes, warm as dark chocolate.
Unquestionably, it was a perfect smile… perfect and more, perhaps.
“Tonight will be the best night of your marriage.”
LeFou’s words rang in his head. They pleasantly caressed his now lifted-up soul. Gaston trusted his friend; he knew that he could trust him… even with his life.
“I am sure of it,” Gaston confirmed.
Words hurt. Sometimes more than a punch.
Gaston noted that his reaction led LeFou into obvious suffering. He stood stuck to the ground, surprised by his rough reply. The snow was crumbling under their feet. It melted away with every second of that frightening silence. Gaston could see LeFou wanted to say something. His companion had a need to apologize… LeFou was very good at it. It had become a habit for him.
Before LeFou even started forming the first ‘s’ in his head, Gaston grabbed his hand, put it on his shoulder, and they continued on their way. LeFou was prancing with a grateful smile, Gaston - with still visible distress.
Even though he wasn’t looking at him, Gaston was aware that LeFou was now redder than his burgundy jacket. He was close to him. Nearer and nearer. He narrowed the gap between them. His grip tightened. Gaston felt the heat of his friend’s body. It warmed him, sending pleasant electric shocks through the veins to his heart. Gaston felt as if he was sitting by a warm fireplace covered with a fluffy beige blanket. So homey.
Their legs were close; clothes were rubbing against each other. Gaston had to be careful not to step on his friend’s foot. The man was filled with barely palpable satisfaction. He liked that he had caused someone such a strong feeling of admiration and praise for him.
“Thank you, Gaston,” LeFou lovingly chimed out. He didn’t have to say it. Gaston knew he was grateful. Words, however, influenced him more than suspicions. A short smile crossed his face. It looked like a bright crescent moon in a cloudy sky. However, it quickly disappeared.
“You should not tell anyone about this,” he demanded. “If someone finds out, people will think I have become soft. Or weak.” He let out a short, harsh laugh. Nobody could think of him like that; it was ridiculous. “I only did it because no one is here, fortunately for you.”
Words hurt more.
“Otherwise, you would have fallen to the icy ground long ago,” a short sigh - an indication of the change of heart? Not right now… but soon, perhaps. Gaston’s face became serious again. He composed himself quickly. “You would have probably frozen… but… but I wouldn’t care.”
Sometimes, they hurt more than a bullet.
LeFou listened to him. Even Gaston’s words could not break him, it seemed. The perfection of a man thought it was shameful, but… he appreciated it in his own way. Although, he had to admit… his friend had no dignity. Sometimes Gaston wondered what he would have to do to make LeFou snap back at him. To hit him, to shout at him. How far would Gaston have to cross that breaking point for LeFou to abandon him?
It gave him a chuckle. It made him laugh that he even considered such a crazy possibility. LeFou was his faithful orderly. His companion. His friend.
He would never leave his side, no matter what Gaston did.
His friend’s eyebrows were raised in amusing curiosity. Gaston did not fail to indulge LeFou in the rest of the story. “I can see your face.” He started. An expression of surprise was visible on his friend’s young features. Gaston could feel his pulse. His heart was beating madly.
Or maybe it was Gaston’s heart? The man preferred not to even acknowledge this option.
LeFou didn’t interrupt his story with his guesses. Gaston decided to keep him in a moment of uncertainty. With the unspoken words stuck to his mouth, which was twisted in a smile, he walked forward without slowing down.
He knew LeFou was holding his breath, watching Gaston like a majestic figure. Gaston let the mystery stir LeFou’s mind for a few more seconds. What could this Aphro do? Had she fled? Did she start crying? Perhaps, she jumped on him and…
Gaston shook his head quickly. There was no time for such filthy daydreams.
He was silent a moment longer. His friend’s reaction and Gaston’s inscrutability were proud and over-the-top. They contrasted comically with the crude tone of the man’s speech.
Eventually, Gaston took a deep breath. “She kissed me,” he finally blurted out. But it was probably not that worth of all this build-up. Gaston decided to complete his statement; he had to maintain the suspense of his story. "It was not an ordinary kiss. Without any practical use to stimulate the senses. It was…” he was looking for a good word. However, he was not a bibliophile. “…different.”
He thought that LeFou did not understand the ridiculousness of the whole event. He continued to explain it to him unscrupulously. “Well, as you already know, Aphro has sworn she didn’t like me. She even had the nerve to assume I’d fall in love with her first. She has an extremely high opinion of herself." Gaston shook his head. If he was even a little self-aware, it might be considered ironic. “And yet… it was she who crushed first. She likes me, and she proved it yesterday. Isn’t that funny? This is another one yet, that got so tangled up. I am flattered," he completed sincerely. “You know, I almost feel sorry for her.” His expression changed in the blink of an eye. His face dropped, black eyebrows covered his eyes, his mouth became a rough line.
In his life, however, Gaston never felt sorry for his lover. Especially the ones who began to have feelings for him, which were stronger than lust.
He could not hold this pose any longer. He let out a brutal, harsh laugh. “I hope this girl doesn’t think I’ll leave my wife for her. If so, she’s a fool,” he cast a brief glance at his friend and smiled bitterly. “I’ll leave her if she gets too obsessive. I don’t have time and strength to hide anything more serious. For now, the most important thing is that I was right."
He straightened up. Pride shone in his eyes, which now seemed more navy blue than cerulean.
“For I’m always right.”
@ethereal ~ Marcel LeFou
You are evil
The part in cursive, at the very beginning one is, like… Gaston’s true feelings. He doesn’t know about them (for now, at least) but I do, so, oh well. I’ll try to write those in every (or some of them, at least) post, yep
'Well maybe we can find somewhere that is kind or reminiscent of there." I say as I kiss his head. I could tell he was glad I was holding him how I was so his ribs wouldn’t be in as much pain as they could be. I tried to keep his body from shifting too much as the bus stopped but I could tell the hard stop still hurt him. “Yeah lets go enjoy the weather I guess.” I say as I chuckle and get up as I head towards the park. “Yes I would like hot chocolate first. I am honestly already cold.” I say as I shake my head. I hold his hand and smile as we walk. “You are mine too though Gen.”
I shook my head. “No need, I want to make new memories with you, not blend old ones together,” I tell him as we walked out of the bus. “Those are memories from my past, one of the very few good ones. So instead of trying to make those precious memories something from the present, I rather make new memories with you that I can add to the list of good memories.” I explain with a smile as I squeeze his hand as we walked into a cabin with a little cafe. it was a logged cabin with a lumberjack-themed Interieur. It has a cosy atmosphere as well.
We walked to a little couch near a fireplace where we ordered two hot chocolates and we started talking again as we waited. “Can I be honest, it may sound weird, but I like these cosy type of cabin style cafe’s more than the modern or retro things” I said as I looked around.
ANA Ana Ana
Ana had only been gently teasing him and so his reaction—the blush, the lack of eye contact, all gestures that indicated embarrassment—surprised her. “It’s not a bad thing,” she said, her head cocking slightly, similar to how one of the birds regarded her, as she peered at him. “I think it’s quite adorable, actually, how you’ve adopted some park pigeons/dove/I’mnotreallysurewhichbirdstheyaresojustpretendIputthecorrectbreedhere.” A small smile stretched across her face. “I’m sure they love having someone to look after them.”
Kim didn’t seem to appreciate her offer of her sister fixing him, which also came as a surprise to her, because she thought it had been a fairly generous offer. Like. Who offered free healthcare to a stranger? “What I said,” she replied to him, her eyebrow rising some. “That she’ll fix it for you.” Ana ran the words through her mind, but it sounded normal to her—she couldn’t figure out the particular fragment that had bothered Kim so. She didn’t enjoy that feeling of not knowing, and it wasn’t one that she encountered often, but she was genuinely puzzled by the error she had committed. “But I do have to,” she insisted. “It’s really the least I can do, considering all of the trouble I’ve caused you.” Ana’s lips pursed, as she paused to take in the aftermath of her no football talents on his forehead. She returned to walking a few moments later, her high-heeled boots clacking against the pavement with every step. “It’s no big deal, Kim, really. And, you will find that I do not take no for an answer,” she added with a dazzling smile.
His blank expression to her declaration of his new name was received by her to much amusement. He looked at her and she looked back, her impish grin widening with every second that passed in his utterly perplexed silence. When he finally responded, his awkward response made her giggle, a genuine smile playing at her lips. “Really?” She squinted at him before giving him a laughing shrug. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it—and I’ll probably give you dozens of nicknames anyway.” Anastasia could certainly tell that he was being polite, but she had made it a personal mission of hers to befriend him
if seducing him wasn’t an option, and she definitely wasn’t going to make it easy for him to brush her off. Her slender eyebrows knitted close together at his latter statement, and she blinked blankly at him. “I mean, maybe. But. They usually have ulterior motives, whether upfront or hidden ones I find out about later. You seem kind of… genuine about it?” She paused in her speech, her eyes briefly flicking his way. “A ‘what you see is what you get’ sort of attitude, you know? I’m not… used to that.”
Anastasia had come to expect many things in conversation with him, but none of these expectations included Kim cracking a joke after she introduced herself. Quite frankly, she had been beginning to think he was not capable of humour. And even, the way he had joked could’ve been missed easily, as it’s not like he indicated his intentions with a smile of any sort. But alas! A joke it was, and not a second too late in Ana’s mind. Her lips spread into a grin, and she laughed, eyes sparkling. “Yes, sure. Angelic Ally, at your service. Ooh, could also go by AA—like batteries? AA batteries?” A smug smile pressed against her lips. “I think that’s not too bad, no?”
In all honesty, the likelihood of Elise getting herself kidnapped was low and a lot of her didn’t believe the words she’d said… but also, there was a part of her that did. Elise was the only family she had left, and when it came down to it, she truly did love her. There was a moment in her facade that it stopped being a facade, and her heart actually twisted at the thought of losing her big sister. For a long time now, they’d been a team, supporting each other through all of their shared experiences… losing that would be like losing a part of herself. Kim’s hand on her shoulder broke her out of her thoughts, and she turned to him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. At first, his words offered no comfort to her as they seemed as standard as talk about the weather, but then she caught the emotion in his tone. Maybe he knew from personal experience.
She paused, looking down briefly. “No worse pain…” she repeated. The only loved one she had lost was her mother, but even that loss was relative in its grief. The fact of the matter was that her mother was not a good person—but she was her mother. Was losing her the worse pain in the world? Well, no; Ana was more grieved a few weeks later when she spilled acrylic paint on her new heels. But if she lost Elise… she had a feeling that it would be just as Kim had described. “Yeah. I couldn’t… I couldn’t deal with that. Without her, I’d be alone, really alone. I can’t even imagine… what that would be like.”
Anastasia inhaled sharply, smoothing the wrinkles on her coat. “I guess I should know that the police are working as diligently as ever. I just hope it’s solved soon so we can all move past this.” Maybe Las Levendas would never be a completely safe place, and she knew that there would still be unspeakable crimes that happened in the dark alleyways more than anyone, but this constant reminder of a threat (as well as the heightened paranoia and police presence) would definitely not be something she’d miss.
Sadness and anger were closely related emotions to her, so the switch from the grief-filled mood to this more fiery one wasn’t an abrupt one in her mind. Even so, it was like a switch had been flipped inside her; the way his expression had withdrawn in shame had cut her to her core, and she’d be damned if she just let anyone be belittled like that.
Holding a metal hand was definitely a first for her, but it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant experience. It was cold, much cooler than a regular human hand, but it really wasn’t all that different. Nothing to be ashamed of for certain. She told him so, the words pouring out of her mouth as she gripped the prosthetic tightly.
Her sister had been broken, she knew, her soul fractured by the sharp words of their peers and their mother… they both had been, really. Not that this was something either two would admit, no, but that prolonged treatment did take its toll on a person, on anyone. Maybe Kim had been broken too—she didn’t know his story, but she was incredibly sympathetic to anyone who found themselves a victim of anothers’ cruel taunts, especially if they seemed affected by it.
“Used to?” She repeated, wanting to clarify the use of past tense. “But she’s a smart woman then, because she’s right.” Anastasia hadn’t known that he was married, but she took this revelation in stride, not seeming the least bit surprised. “Your hand is beautiful, Kim,” she said, her eyes flicking down to gaze at it at his side, their hands long separated by now. “I mean, who can say that their hand was made especially for them? So f*ck every single f*cking person who thinks otherwise.”
One of the rats turned towards them, interrupted her gorgeous self-esteem speech to ask an obnoxious little question from his obnoxious little mouth—deep breaths, Anastasia, she told herself, her face clearing into a placid little smile. “Right, let’s get going then,” she said brightly, taking the lead of the pack.
Several minutes later, they were at the storefront, the word Rosemary’s printed in big bold letters near the top of the front. Ivy grew up the sides of the building, giving it something of a rustic feel. Ana pushed through the doors without hesitation, Elise looking up from whatever she was doing to greet her sunnily deposition with a frown. “You’re late,” Elise said, piercing blue eyes watching Ana make her way over to the cashier’s table. “What took you-”
“Yeah yeah sorry sorry, but I brought friends,” she said, gesturing behind her as Kim and the boyz trailed in behind her. Elise’s frown pinched slightly downwards at the sight of the children, a soft exhale pushing through her lips. “I need you to magic up a ball,” Ana continued on, her voice low. “I’ll explain later but please E? I’ll make it up to you.”
The beginnings of a ‘no’ was beginning to form on Elise’s lips, and Ana caught that, and so she barrelled on: “Also, he’s a cop and I’d like for him to think of us as good storeowners y’know?” Elise took this information in with an eye twitch, and turned to the back of the store without a further word, disappearing through purple curtains. A triumphant smile split across Anastacia’s face, and she called out her thanks after her sister’s retreating back. She knew though that Elise would not be happy that Ana had brought a police officer into her store, and she’d likely hear all about it later, and that she still had to convince Elise to heal Kim, but small victories, yes.
She turned back to the group with a smaller smile, clapping her hands together. “Yeah, she’ll go get it,” she said, leaning against the table. Her eyes trailed across the store, taking in the shelves filled with remedies and potions, then looked back at the boys, who were likely as curious as they were annoying. “Boys, don’t touch anything you might like- turn into snakes or something, so yeah just be careful.” She wasn’t even exaggerating, but maybe she’d be lucky enough that they would think she was and actually turn into snakes—that would be a very positive turn of events. The store was on the smaller side, so she was mostly worried that they’d wreck the store, cause jars to tumble to the ground and just make a mess of things. Elise would be so p!ssed, and that would definitely not be a good thing for the police officer to see.
@ethereal whOO 1722—idk what yours was but it was 1600 or something like that and I be 17 so
I nod I understood what he meant I wanted new and special memories that were just ours too. The old memories were just that memories but I wanted to live with him and experience life with him. I wrapped my arm around him I wanted him to know I understood. “I get it. I have memories like that too. And I want all kinds or good memories with you, More than you can even dream up right now.” I say as I smile big at him. I was happy to have him and honestly that was all that mattered to me. I smiled giggling as we walked into the little cabin it was silly but cute and warm. “The them is ironically cute.” I say as I look the place over and find us a seat. But it seemed Gen found us a place to sit first a place I liked much better. The fire was warm and I sat on the floor close to it with my back resting on the couch where your legs would usually be. “I do too they are cozy and I always like the silly little themes and gimmicks that they have they make me smile.” I say as I jokingly finger gun a lumberjack statue.
~ Present Day ~
Her thoughts were bouncing all over the place, scattering in every direction if felt like. From the problems that caused the problems she faces everyday. Oh, and the constant worries are a plus too. This was a much needed drink for her in a much calmer environment than her husband’s place. A person she doesn’t want to think about right now. So she quickly brushed any thoughts- mostly negative as of right now- under the rug. Glancing up from her drink she noticed him start to smile at her. Cute. Just as she spoke he name, the microphone went haywire with a loud shriek that hurt her ears. Making her pull away slightly.
A few seconds later, he appeared back in the center of the stage. One thing she was not expecting we people to start getting up to slow dance with each other. Oh… now this was awkward as she was now really the only one in her seat. Instead of letting it bother her, she leaned back in her chair to focus on the music playing with her hair falling behind her shoulders. Slowly she finished her drink as he sung. It was an unexpected song. Much less modern, but much more interesting than she expected.
All of a sudden, he reached out his hand for her and she put hers gently in his. This little gesture sent butterflies flowing. She nodded confidently, the drink bringing her confidence back up. “Yes you may,” A sweet smile appearing. Small, but there.
@sunflower.flow ~ Bill
Aphro scrunched her eyebrows and made a face when he gulped down the wine. She would gag if not for his presence. “Erm, yes, it’s not that bad…” She turned away from him, trying to get what he did out of her mind. Keeping the glass away, she glanced at him.“You have a… peculiar way of drinking wine,” Her voice was soft and almost inaudible. She picked her words carefully as to avoid making him mad. She hated it, but she had to (I made it sound like she’s a slave, lmao-). “Not that it is…” Aphro paused for a while before continuing, “…bad, but we don’t want you getting you drunk, do we?” Maybe she would have wanted him to get drunk. Perhaps, it would lead to something more. But she was exhausted and certainly not in the mood to do something more. She brushed the thought off and brought her attention to him.
“Are they better now?” he brought his tongue to his lips and licked them; seductively if you’d ask Aphro. She gulped and tried diverting her attention from him. Oh, what a nice-looking house plant she has. It looked fresh and lively. It seems like Aphro’s maids are taking good care of her plants. Perhaps she should visit her garden. It’d be refreshing to walk along the colourful bed of flowers rather than being in bed, stalking strangers all day. She needed activity, anyway. (The most activity she got was from sauna HAHA). That figure of hers isn’t going to maintain itself. Aphro had quit going to the gym and hadn’t painted a thing in over two months. That wasn’t like her. Not like her at all! Ever since Ares went missing, everything had become uninteresting to her. All she did was try to impress a narcissistic married man who paid little attention to her.
Aphro knew she was exhausted. She felt like she would doze off the moment her eyes closed. Letting out a yawn, she grabbed her blankets and tugged them over her and Gaston. She wrapped a hand around Gaston’s waist and pulled him to bed, snuggling closer to him. Aphro slipped her hand inside his shirt and slowly stroked his hard, muscly chest. “I’m guessing you don’t want to head home right now…” she rested her head on his broad shoulder. “…not after your little fight with Belle.” It took a moment for her to realise what she had said, but she was too weary to care right now. What’s the worst he could do? Scream at her? Hit her? No, he wouldn’t do that… Not for such a small matter.
// I took so long to reply and it wasn’t even good smh… //
I chuckle and grabbed his finger as he shot the finger gun. “Yeah, but that’s not the only silly thing that makes me smile,” I said and sat next to him where our shoulders touch. “The past is in the past, as amazing or cursed as they may be, we can’t change it, but we can decide what we make our future memories,” I said and hugged him from the side. “That is…if you want to” I added with a smile before looking outside. “Though that means you’ll have to deal with the cold today,” I said.
I giggle when he grabs my fingers “What do you mean that isn’t the only silly thing that makes you smile?” I ask as I look up at him my eyebrow quirked upward in confusion. I smiled when he moved to sit on the floor next to the fire with me. “I agree the past is what it is and I do want a future and our own memories.” I say as I lean my head on his shoulder while he side hugged me. “I definitely want to Gen never think that I dont ok.” I say as I smile at him and play with his hair. I catch him looking outside and I smile I knew he was thinking something up. “What are you planing Gen?”