conquerorofbeasts-blog

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sober up || Belle

 The last few days he'd spent in his dorm room continuing to wallow in his misery. When Hans wasn't off charming the student body and in their shared room, Gaston spent his time locked in the bathroom, sat in the tub with a bottle of whiskey, headphones in as he listened to The Black Keys on repeat.

 That was how he ended his holiday break. Although, he'd elongated the days a bit by sleeping off his drunkness and didn't start attending classes again until two days after everyone else had returned.

 It was rare that Gaston caught Belle in the hallways and this was due to how different their class schedules were. He hadn't seen her since winter break, when she'd broken her ice skate and that was partly because he's been avoiding her but also, perhaps because she was avoiding him as well.

 So, when he saw her in the middle of a class transition, walking the opposite direction he grabbed her arm and pulled her aside into an empty classroom.

 "Belle, can we talk for a moment?" It was phrased as a question but Gaston's voice was pleading and the way he stood in front of the door indicated that he wasn't going to take 'no' as an answer. "I assume you've heard, so... I'd like to explain myself-- If it's not too much trouble."

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"Belle... And Marie..." The room is practically spinning around Gaston but he can more than hold his liquor or at least try and pretend to be somewhat sober.

"Lucky? I'd say it's rather unfortunate, actually..."

"Who does everyone consist of? Cause I don’t see how I gain anything from that." She said, raising an eyebrow before sighing quietly and settling herself on the arm of his chair, knowing that any kind of physical form of comforting him wouldn’t end well, ignoring how much she wanted to hug him. "Lucky you’re a good swimmer, right?"

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"Because this time, no matter what, someone I care about is going to be hurt..."

"So, if you’ve fucked up so many times, why is now different? You’re a lot better at fixing things than you give yourself credit for."

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When Meg takes the glass, Gaston's more than a little offended but he's barely sober enough to form coherent sentences much less fight Meg for the last of his whiskey. So, he relents...

"I guess it just seems like the best way out of this whole I've dug for myself... Fill it with booze, see if I can swim out, if I can't then I drown and everyone wins."

"I feel so very appreciated." 

Frowning, Meg grabbed his cup and scrunched up her nose, frowning at him again. “Unfortunately, you dying is not okay with me. Why the death wish?”

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"You're right, I wouldn't listen to you. It's a long, complicated story and I'm not lucid enough to tell it but to no one's surprise--" Gaston's frown turns into a pained smirk and he shakes his head.

"I fucked up!"

“More than enough.”

"No, I was gonna ask what made you fall off the wagon. I can lecture you if you want, but that’s no fun and you wouldn’t listen to me anyway."

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"Not enough."

"What...? Are you going to lecture me about falling off the wagon?"

"Woah there big guy, how much have you had?!"

"Actually, I was going to show off my new found french skills, but there’re bigger issues. Like you, and the drinking."

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"I can always sense when you're there."

"Well, I'm not dead yet so I'm going to go with 'no'..."

"I haven’t even done anything yet."

"You had enough to drink?"

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"Deal... You can go now."

"I wasn’t introducing myself, I was offering a service so I don’t get arrested for not stopping a suicide."

"But, if you promise not to write me into your goodbye note, then I’ll let you be."

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"We're all put in this house for a reason, mon ami."

"I'm working on it and no, thank you. You must be the new guy Hans was talking about... Look, I don't mean to be rude but I'm not in any mood for introductions."

"This house is just chock full of winners, isn’t it?"

"Are you trying to drink yourself to death, or should I be polite and go ahead and call an ambulance?”

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"... What do you want?"

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DRINK UP || self-para

 It'd been months since he'd even smelt liquor, he was trying to curb his drinking habit but deep down he knew that returning to the bottle was inevitable so he gave all his alcohol away to the first interested party. Now though, he was kind of thankful that Hans' Christmas present to him consisted mostly of whiskey.

 With a bottle in hand, Gaston put on his jacket and headed out into the snow, planning to go somewhere in town. Where he could be alone without any questions because if this whole ordeal taught him anything, it was that he needed to take a few moments to think. 

 All the stores in town were closed, fair enough when considering the time. The sun would be up in a few hours, school would be back in session and if he was successful Gaston would have the worst hangover ever. 

 He made his way over to a bench on the side of the small road that ran through the middle of the little college town and sat himself down, bottle of whiskey resting on his knee while he his finger brushes his lips and he recalled the kiss he shared with Marie a few hours before hand. 

"I don’t want you to think of this as a mistake, Gaston." 

 It wasn't a mistake. Kissing her had felt so right, even now with the current circumstances facing him, Gaston didn't see it as wrong. The truth of the matter was that he'd asked Belle out on a date only a few minutes prior to the kiss and while that didn't necessarily mean that he and Belle were together, it did mean that they were starting something. 

 Which also meant that Gaston owed Belle and explanation, preferably before word got back to her-- things always spread ridiculously fast at this cursed school-- from someone other than Gaston himself. As her wondered how Belle would take such information, he took a long swig from the bottle. 

 Telling Belle about his faux pas wasn't the only thing Gaston needed to do, he also had to make a decision-- Marie or Belle? Although, at the rate he was going it would sooner just as be neither of them. As Gaston did have a rather miraculous knack for ruining any and all of his romantic endeavors. 

He took another drink.

 Perhaps he could decide after this date with Belle, that was, if there still was a date after this whole thing was said and done with. The truth was, all the rights to decision making between Gaston and Belle, lay within Belle's hands-- As they always have. She would decide whether Gaston was worth her time and Gaston had decided long ago that she was worth his.

Now, however, he wasn't so sure he was worth anyone's....

Gaston took another drink and made a decision-- Which was not to decide. At least not tonight because he was already well on his way to being far too drunk to make any rational conclusions. Instead he opted to stay out in the cold, well away from the school and everyone in it.

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I’m Not The One  |  3OH!3

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 The hand on her cheek is now running through her hair, his lips grazing her pulse point, the smell of Chanel perfume is unmistakable and he's pleasantly smothered by it. "I don’t want you to think of this as a mistake, Gaston." The grip she'd held on his shirt is released and in that one movement, the room rushes back to him.

"You don't want this," The sudden realization hits him and he pulls away, searching Marie's face and the look of hesitance on her features is telling enough. Gaston frowns, running a hand through his hair and in a breathy sigh the words "I'm sorry..." come out.

It's immediately clear to him that damage has been done, all on his part. He lacked self-control and desired too much and he'd let it get the best of him.

Marie shudders as his lips brush her cheek, tilting her head to the side minimally as he moves to her neck. She doesn’t want to say anything, she doesn’t want to stop this. She wants to stay like this, with him, for as long as possible, but she can’t and God, she can’t even put it eloquently— It fucking sucks.

"I don’t want you to regret this." She murmurs, finally releasing her grip on his shirt. It’s out there, hanging in the air, and she knows this should have never happened. "I don’t want you to think of this as a mistake, Gaston." She doesn’t want him to think of her and remember that night where he ruined everything he could have had with Belle.  She’s not sure which is worse: The fact that he may be in love with another women, or that she’s tricked herself into believing that Gaston actually loves her, and that she loves him, too.

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u need some jesus up in this bitch

"Right then... If you need me I'll be at the nearest church, trying to find Jesus at the bottom of a bottle of vodka."