Beast

Drunken Encounter

Chapter Twelve: Drunken Encounter

A month had passed and the mansion began to feel as cold and chilled as the crisp fall air in the outside world. Autumn was settling in nicely and from the windows, Belle could see the leaves beginning to turn orange and red on the few trees on the property.

Over the month, Belle's nutrition improved and her stitches dissolved. She was being fed three times a day, sometimes more, and her heart was adjusting to her body. She still had only seen two people in the mansion; the doctor and Callahan. The doctor's visits were brief and chaperoned by Callahan but Belle didn't understand why. Her meals were still brought to her by the master himself to ensure that she ate it all. But why would she not? Did he think her suicidal? Because although she was living through hell in the mansion, she was not considering death as a solution. Though sometimes she preferred that over Callahan's deep glares. Her skin was beginning to gain a healthier color and her hair had regained its red highlights that she missed. She was stronger than she was a month before but she felt weaker inside.

One day Callahan came to her room before a meal was scheduled to be eaten. He held nothing in his hand and when he came, he headed straight for her bed. He sat as close as he could to her face and leaned down, holing her hand tight enough to hurt her. Belle had only heard a few kind words directed toward her from him, and any sort of closeness was basically unheard of. So this was new.

"Uhm, what are you doing?" Belle raised an eyebrow at the man's disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes. He reeked of alcohol and his clothes were messy. He leaned in to Belle's face and stared into her eyes that were slowly beginning to regain the life they once had. But they still held sadness and darkness that would never go away.

"You...you've suffered a lot since you've come here," Callahan said drunkenly, almost as if thinking out loud.

"I'd say so. Could you maybe, back up?" Belle tried to push at his chest with her free hand, but he was solid as a rock. He breathed right in her face and watched her with moving eyes.

"I hated seeing you like that, all helpless and attached to monitors. I can't believe I did that to you." For the first time in her two months of being locked up there, Belle saw a sadness in Callahan's drunk but honest eyes. He stared at her intensely before he looked away at a pillow beside her. "I never intended for it to get this bad."

Maybe he does have a soul after all. Belle smirked a little and pat his shoulder.

"It wasn't all that bad, uhm, Sir." It almost pained her to have to use that term. But she had never seen him drunk before and if he was as bad as he was when sober, she couldn't imagine how horrifying he was drunk.

Callahan's eyes turned furious, "Yes it was that bad! You died! You were dead for four hours! That's fucking bad, Belle!" Callahan wound his free hand through his messy hair and began to pull at the ends. "I don't know what to do!"

This was a new side of him to Belle. In all honesty, she didn't know what to do either. But she had seen her father drunk a few times when he started to remember details of her mother. She knew what she had to do, although she didn't really want to do it.

"Alright, Sir, I think we should get you cleaned up then you need to get to bed." Belle pushed Callahan upright and sat up fully, lifting herself off the bed and to the floor. She grabbed Callahan's hand and tried to lead him to the bathroom.

His eyes got wide with panic, "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. I can't do that. Not with you. Nope. Nuh-uh. No." It took a moment but Belle began to understand what he meant.