As I stretched my body and blinked away sleep, I discovered Belle's hair scattered across the bed, her form nestled in my embrace. What was intended to be a brief, simple night turned into something more profound. When I made a move to retreat to my own quarters, she pleaded for me to stay until she drifted off into slumber.
Unexpectedly, I found myself succumbing to sleep as well. Peering down at her, I couldn't help but marvel at the woman lying before me. Her words echoed in my mind—did she truly miss my presence? I pondered.
Gently brushing her hair aside, I observed her soft, steady breaths. It was evident she was worn out, likely deprived of sleep for days. The sudden loss of her father weighed heavily on her, but there seemed to be deeper troubles clouding her thoughts. She appeared more fragile than I had ever seen her, as though her confidence had been stripped away.
Though I yearned to ask about her time away, I sensed that what she needed most in that moment was comfort, not interrogation. I had never anticipated her return; once I had allowed her to depart, I assumed she would remain there indefinitely. It was a desire she had harbored since I initially brought her here. Strangely, I had grown accustomed to her peculiar quirks, and in her absence for the past month, I had felt a void within me.
Frequently, I found myself drawn to the library she had painstakingly transformed. Sitting on the very couch where she often immersed herself in reading, I would contemplate the possibility of our paths crossing once more.
And yet, here we were, reunited in each other's presence. Despite the flood of emotions stirring within me, I resolved not to let my feelings cloud my judgment. She deserved someone who embodied goodness, unlike myself—a person stained with the guilt of past actions.
As Belle stirred in her sleep, I interpreted it as my signal to depart. The last thing I wanted was to startle her if she awoke to find me still in bed. Tenderly lifting her arm, I slipped off the mattress, ensuring to cover her with the blanket before quietly exiting the room.
The early morning hours offered a hope of solitude, with the likelihood of encountering no one awake. Making my way down the east wing, I sought refuge in my own quarters, craving both mental clarity and a cleansing shower.
"Master?" The sound of Maximus's voice halted my steps, causing me to pivot to face him, my mind scrambling for a plausible excuse.
"What brings you to the east wing?" he inquired, his tone tinged with suspicion.
"Just... surveying the area, ensuring everything's secure," I replied, the flimsiness of my lie evident even to my own ears.
Maximus nodded, seemingly accepting my explanation as I hastened down the corridor towards my room. While I knew he likely saw through my deception, I found solace in the knowledge that he was not inclined to betray my confidence.
If it had been Louise or Gabriel, however, the situation would have been far more precarious. Collapsing onto my bed, I ran a hand wearily across my face, the weight of Annabelle's presence once again infiltrating my thoughts. Her words lingered like a poison, fueling my overactive mind. Perhaps she was merely exhausted, I reasoned, attempting to dismiss the notion of her missing me. After all, my treatment of her had been nothing short of callous
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/359136675-288-k290039.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Beauty and the Beast
RomanceShe moves like beauty, she whispers to us of wind and forest-and she tells us stories, such stories that we wake in the night, dreaming dreams of a life long past. She reminds us of what we used to be. She reminds us of what we could be