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𝟤𝟣 | 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇

ѕℓєєρу яєα∂ιиg

𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤: 𝔙𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 𝔅𝔞𝔟𝔶 - 𝔅𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔢 𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔫

A/N: I do not own Beauty and the Beast

⚜ ————-　⚜Ѽ⚜　————- ⚜

Silver hummed contentedly as he lay on Y/N's thighs, gently tracing shapes with his finger as he listened to her voice. 

"Belle decided that as long as she was in the castle, she would use her time productively, which for starters meant helping the Beast recover. Adjusting her dress around her legs, Belle settled into a chair beside the Beast's bed. The Beast's eyes were closed, which gave Belle the chance to assess his wounds. It had been a few days since he'd saved her from the wolves, and with constant care, most of the cuts were beginning to heal. Still, the larger and deeper ones remained bandaged. Those would take longer to heal and were likely to leave scars. Gazing at him, Belle felt a sudden surge of sadness for the creature. He already had so many invisible scars after growing up without a mother to protect him from a cruel father. It seemed unfair that he now had physical ones to match."

As he listened to Y/N's voice, Silver slipped off into a world of dreams, unconsciously gripping Y/N's hand.

- Dream - 

The young woman sighed as she sat by the bed, her lips pursed as she thought about the man's life. How he had been cursed to transform into a hideous beast - though she still thought that he deserved at least some punishment for being so cruel to the enchantress who had come banging on his door - and how he had been forced to grow up too early. She couldn't imagine growing up without at least one loving parent to care for her. True, she had never known her mother, but at least her father was there. And she knew for a fact that he loved her with as much love as he held in his whole being. And she loved him.

There was a grunt that came from the bed and the woman lifted her eyes from the book in her hands, smiling despite herself when she saw that the Beast was starting to awaken. Still, she continued to read aloud from the book in her hands, wondering if he knew what it was that she was reading. 

"Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love books not with eyes but with the mind."

"And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."

The woman looked up from her book and gave the Beast a soft smile. At least he was well enough that he was able to remember Shakespeare. 

"You know Shakespeare," she asked softly. She tucked her bookmark into place and shut the book, setting it down on the bedside table and moving to get the new bandages that the household had set out for her. 

"I had an expensive education," the Beast answered. 

"What's your favourite play?"

The Beast shrugged. "Can't say I have one. Most of Shakespeare's stuff was romance and heartache and pining." He shuddered at the thought of it and the woman laughed. 

"I can't say I disagree." She took a seat on the side of the bed and took his pawn and laid it in her lap. She started to unwind the bandages to get at the wound beneath. "But I think there's a certain magic to his words. They allow us to escape from this world and travel throughout, experiencing things that may only happen in dreams."

The Beast watched the woman intently as she unwound his bandages. She cleaned the wound as softly as she could, apologising when the Beast flinched at her touch and started to wind the new bandages around it.