Beauty and the Monster ⚤

Chapter Eleven; The Wingless Bird

It was a beautiful night, the light of the full moon bathed the lawns in its pale lunar glow and the sky was studded with stars, like a beautiful canopy above them.
The air was warm and tinged with the sweet scent of orange blossom and jasmine.

Belle and Loki wandered along the path, winding their way through the rose garden, and into the orchard where they stumbled upon an ornate stone bench, concealed amongst the trees.
They sat companionably discussing literature and poetry, and as before when they'd spent time together in the village, the conversation flowed easily and the pair revelled in each other's intellect.

After sitting for quite some time, they set off walking again and eventually found themselves lay side by side on the ground, their heads almost touching as they stared up at the night sky.

He pointed out all the different constellations, and explained the convergence to her.
At one point he absentmindedly took hold of her dainty hand, placing his own hand against it in order to demonstrate planetary alignment.
Shuddering at his touch, she listened with keen interest and asked many questions, to which he was more than happy to provide the answers.

When a shooting star streaked by, Belle excitedly urged Loki to make a wish. Sniggering, he poured scorn on such fanciful practices, which earned him a playful jab in the ribs, so he obliged her.

"Well, what did you wish for?"
He asked immediately afterwards.

"I can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true."
She giggled.

Rolling over onto his side, he propped himself up on his elbow in order to look at her,
"You do realise that a star is merely a gigantic incandescent cloud of gas that has collapsed in on itself?"

"Oh my, you certainly know how to destroy a romantic notion don't you?"
She cried, disapprovingly,

"I'm more or a realist than a dreamer."

"But just because you're not romantic by nature doesn't mean you have to be so cynical."
She chided, though still smiling.

His brow furrowed,
"I'm not incapable of romance....but it is the stuff borne of fairy tales. Which do not come true. As neither do wishes."

Turning to face him, she mirrored his position by propping her head against her hand,
"Perhaps you've yet to find your happy ending."

"Happiness is overrated. I have everything I desire, so I'm willing to settle for being content."
He retorted.

"But if you have everything your heart desires then why are you only content? Surely you should be happy."
She pointed out.

Lost for words, he blinked at her. It wasn't often his silver tongue became tied, but her observation had stumped him and he could not think of an adequate response.
Her words hung in the air like a fog, as a loaded silence descended, affecting the atmosphere around them.

He met her large blue eyes and felt his pulse involuntarily begin to quicken. It felt as though she were gazing into the very depths of his soul, searching around in the darkness for something. The smallest shaft of light perhaps, to which he was convinced she would not find. Yet still it unnerved him, having her peer into them in such a way, for it was his eyes that often betrayed him. Behind them, was where his deepest fears lurked and his demons hid.

Unaware of the inner turmoil he was feeling, Belle was completely lost in this unexpected moment, transfixed by the intensity of his gaze. Her heart was in her throat, and she couldn't help wondering whether or not he sensed the strange tension too. It was as if he altered the energy around them, sending little ripples through the air which crackled against her skin.
He slowly began to incline his head towards her, and she was suddenly struck with the overwhelming realisation that he was about to kiss her. Exhaling shakily, she found herself closing her eyes in anticipation.