The arrogant hunter Gaston must work together with the Beast, if either of them want to escape the Enchanted Forest alive.
What could possibly go right?!
Direct sequel to Beauty and the Beast.
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The rain was still falling, a gentle patter against the outstretched tree; a soothing noise that should have sent Gaston to sleep very easily.
Instead his stomach lurched again, reminding him of his own recent and bewildering behaviour. He wasn't sure what was happening to himself.
He'd come so close to killing that damned bear, and it would have been so easy too. Nothing was supposed to distract him like that. It was as if the Beast had exposed a repulsive and shameful secret he didn't know he had been hiding, or perhaps he'd always known it, but it was never a problem before.
Nothing was a problem before.
Life was always easy and plain sailing for Gaston. He never needed to stop and think about anything, because anything he ever did was always right and that was that. Nobody would ever tell him otherwise. And why should they?
Now he could feel a strong resolve crumbling away, though slowly, it was happening. The Beast had broken it, broken him somehow, like a wound that wouldn't heal itself. Unlike every other knock or bump he'd always been able to brush off, without ever having to think about it.
This one was permanent, and he was shaken.
Gaston glanced unwillingly at the Beast, who slept so soundly. It was ironic, the peaceful subject and the very cause of his overwrought mind.
There were visible claw marks on the Beast's pelt, clear even against the darkness, where the bear had injured him. It was just another ego-bruising reminder that the Beast had helped him, and saved him, yet again.
Gaston got up; familiar restlessness reaching his body. He needed to walk, or something, or else he thought he might go mad within his thoughts.
"Can't sleep?"
Gaston startled with the low voice of the Beast. He'd been so sure he was sleeping.
"Uh...I'm not tired."
The Beast stretched out, his yawn long, and fanged teeth shining, before he shook the sleep from his face. Even though it was dark, Gaston could see the soft edge to his eyes.
"I can keep a look out. You need to try and sleep too."
Gaston shook his head. "I told you. I'm not tired."
"Neither was I until I closed my eyes. Go to sleep."
Whether compelled by Beast or his own weary body, Gaston begrudgingly did as he was told, sinking back down onto the ground, keeping his eyes on the other. He could feel his defences crumbling with the motion, just like everything else within him had been falling down so much lately.
He wondered, vaguely, when it would stop.
He barely kept his eyes open a minute longer, feeling shadow cross his face, before sleep crept up on him.
