#GIRL YOU DON'T LIKE PASTA SAUCE THAT'S NOT ROSE. YOU KNOW THIS. YOU GREW UP EATING PASTA. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emospritelet · 6 years

Note

Continuing Ripper's angsty hate sex prompt. Either 31. "I fucked up" or 97. "Don't touch me"

How about both? I think this was one of the first prompts I got after Ripper’s original prompt, and I’ve waited all this time to fill it XD

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25]

AO3 link

Belle was irritated after her visit to her father, and pushed the stroller home with more energy than the hot weather warranted. As a result she was breathless and red-cheeked, but Gold was there to help her carry the stroller up the steps and inside the house.

“Thanks,” she said breathlessly. “I shouldn’t have walked so fast in this heat.”

“Take a shower, if you like,” he said. “I’ll make Gideon’s dinner.”

He seemed oddly closed off, even more so than usual, his mouth set in a grim line and his eyes not quite meeting hers, silvery hair glinting in the light. She decided that she didn’t want to know why. Perhaps someone at the diner had said something unpleasant after she and Gideon had left. Although if so, she was surprised they had said it within his earshot.

“A shower sounds good,” she said. “Will you be okay looking after Gideon?”

“I’m quite capable of caring for my son, I assure you,” he said dryly, and she swept her hair out of her face with a sigh.

“I didn’t mean - oh, never mind!”

She stomped up the stairs, wondering what the hell had put him in a bad mood. They had enjoyed their lunch together at the diner, and she couldn’t think what might have happened since then to piss him off. But then she was pissed off herself, her irritation with her father making her snappish and resentful. Perhaps they would both have calmed down by the time they ate dinner.

She spent longer than usual in the shower, washing and conditioning her hair, scrubbing every inch of her body, paying particular attention to her feet, and rubbing her arms, legs and buttocks with a salt scrub she had bought in town. It smelt of roses and geranium oil, leaving her skin tingling and soft as silk, and she sighed in contentment as she turned off the water and wrapped her wet hair in a towel, feeling refreshed and relaxed.

Her clean clothes had been pressed and folded and placed on her bed, and she felt bad for getting irritated with Gold when he had been good enough to take them both in and look after them. She dried and brushed her hair, then slipped on underwear and pulled a blue dress up over her hips, slipping her arms through its cap sleeves and zipping up at the back. She raked her fingers through her curls, looking herself over in the mirror before tugging her skirt straight and making her way back downstairs in bare feet.

Gold was just finishing up feeding Gideon, who had tomato sauce on his chin and the remains of what looked like pasta in the bowl in front of him. Gold scooped it up with a spoon, and Gideon opened his mouth, eating the last of it.

“I made plenty,” said Gold, concentrating on wiping the sauce from Gideon’s chin. “You can help yourself, if you’re hungry.”

“I’ll wait, thanks,” she said. “Did you open any wine?”

“No.” He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, then looked away again. “There’s red in the rack, or white in the fridge. Why don’t you pour us both a glass?”

“Well, if he’s done eating—”

“I’ll give him his bath and put him to bed,” said Gold. “Go and sit down. I’ll join you when he’s in bed.”

She couldn’t help feeling that his statement had an air of menace to it, but she couldn’t think why that would be, and so she kissed her son’s cheek and went to the wine rack while he lifted Gideon out of the chair and carried him upstairs. She opened up a bottle of Chianti, pouring two glasses and taking a sip from her own before washing Gideon’s dishes and wiping down his chair. She then heated up some milk for him, pouring it into his cup and setting it on the counter to cool before picking up the two glasses of wine and heading for the lounge.

She sank onto the couch with a sigh, setting Gold’s glass down on the little table to the side of the couch and letting her head roll back against the cushions. Her father’s place was almost ready, and she was due to move out in a couple of days, but she would miss living in Gold’s house, with its beautiful furniture and hordes of books and the pristine gardens. She would miss the kitchen that smelt of fragrant fruit and the sharp scents of herbs and spices and the heady warmth of garlic. And she would miss seeing Gold, early in the morning with his sleepy eyes and his hair awry, and late at night when he had washed the dishes and was seated on the couch with a far away look in his eyes. She had wondered what he was thinking, and whether he would ever tell her. She wondered how he truly felt about her.

Her phone buzzed, and she fished in her pocket, setting down her glass for a moment to answer the call.

“Hey,” said Mary Margaret warmly. “I haven’t seen you for a day or two. You okay?”

“Oh - yeah.” Belle ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been kind of hectic. I’ve been running the shop, and looking after Gideon…”

“Oh, I get it,” said Mary Margaret hurriedly. “It’s just - how do you feel about doing another girls’ night? Maybe Friday?”

“I don’t know…” Belle pulled a face. “Dad’s supposed to get out of the hospital on Friday. I might be busy trying to get him settled.”

“Well, that’s totally understandable,” said Mary Margaret. “How about me and the girls arrange to meet at eight in Granny’s, and if you can join us, you do? No pressure.”

Belle smiled gratefully.

“Actually, that sounds great,” she said. “I’ll see how he is, and hopefully I’ll be there.”

“Great!” said Mary Margaret brightly, and hesitated. “How - how are things?”

“You mean with the father of my child?” said Belle dryly. “About as well as can be expected. Which is - awkward and uncomfortable, but civil, for the moment.”

“Well, he certainly seems to have taken to fatherhood, for what it’s worth,” she said. “I saw him talking Gideon through the merits of every ice cream flavour at Any Given Sundae. They seemed to settle on Rocky Road.”

Belle couldn’t help smiling.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Yeah, he - he certainly loves his son. I’m glad, really.”

“So…” Mary Margaret seemed hesitant. “So, what does this mean? You have a life in Boston, right?”

“Right,” said Belle, after a pause. “Well, he says he’s gonna move there, find a place, take care of Gideon for part of the week. I’m sure we can make it work.”

“And your husband?” asked Mary Margaret gently. “How does he feel about it?”

Belle looked around at the sound of Gold’s feet on the stairs.

“Look - I have to go,” she said. “It’s Gideon’s bedtime, and I need to tuck him in.”

“Oh, of course!” said Mary Margaret. “Don’t forget about Friday!”

“I won’t. Speak to you soon.”

Belle hung up, glancing around as she heard Gold head upstairs again with the warm milk. She got out of her chair, making her way up to the landing, where she could hear Gold reading to Gideon in a low voice. Going into his room made her smile; Gideon was seated on his father’s lap, drinking his milk, listening intently as Gold read The Gruffalo’s Child. They made a sweet picture, and she felt a pang of sorrow for what they had both missed out on. Things were getting better, though. They had to.

Gold finished the story, closing the book and kissing Gideon’s head before glancing up to where Belle was leaning in the doorway.

“You want to tuck him in?” he asked, and she nodded.

Gideon was soon asleep, and Belle pulled the bedroom door until it was almost closed, following Gold back downstairs. He was waiting for her in the lounge, standing by the fireplace and sipping at his wine. There was a strange atmosphere in the air, a tense heaviness, and she waited for him to say what was on his mind.

“How was your day?” he asked quietly.

“Dad was an arse,” she said, with a sigh. “Yours?”

“Oh, it was - it was uneventful, for the most part,“ he said. "The test results came back, by the way. It was positive.”

“Does that surprise you?” she asked wryly.

“No,” he said curtly. "I told you, I believed you. What it means, however, is that we can start to discuss how we want things to be, going forward.“

“I - I guess,” she said. "Do we have to do that tonight?“

"Not formally, no.” He took a sip of wine. "I’ve had my lawyer draft a deed of trust regarding Gideon’s schooling and further education. I’ll let you look it over tomorrow.“

"Right,” she said, feeling uncomfortable.

He was watching her with those dark eyes, a measuring look, and it was making her defensive. He took another drink, setting his glass down on the mantelpiece, and she went to pick up her own, taking a sip.

“Tell me about your life in Boston,” he said suddenly, and her eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

“Well, if I’m going to move there, I’d like to know a little more about you,” he said blandly, spreading the fingers of one hand. “The area you live in, for example. What line of work your husband’s in. Perhaps we’ll have something in common.”

He smiled, his gold tooth gleaming, and Belle’s heart sank. He knows. Had to come out sometime, I guess.

“I mean,” he drawled, “I’m aware that you and I have something of a turbulent past, and one or two passionate indiscretions in the present, but I’m sure there’s no reason we can’t all get along…”

Belle was silent, glaring at him, and his smile grew.

“Of course I wouldn’t be revealing either of those times we fucked as though it was our last day on earth,” he added. “I wouldn’t want to cause trouble between you and the love of your life, after all, no matter how much—”

“Oh God, Alex, alright!” she snapped. “I’m not married, okay? I never was!”

“Well, I’m aware of that,” he said, his voice turning cold. “My lawyer told me all about your life. I have to say that it didn’t make for the most pleasant hearing.”

Belle’s mouth fell open.

“You - you had someone spy on me?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I merely told her to look into your current situation so that I could make a reasonable offer for child support. Imagine my surprise when she told me that you lived alone in a building that should have been fucking condemned!”

“It’s not - it’s not that bad…”

“You lied to me,” he said evenly. “And to your friends, no doubt. You told Miss Blanchard you married a businessman!”

“I never lied,” she said defensively. “I put the ring on because I couldn’t bear people asking me questions about Gideon’s dad, and - and judging me. So when Mary Margaret asked, I said his father was a businessman and that I lived in Boston. Both of those statements are true, she - she just connected the dots and reached the conclusion I wanted her to, that’s all.”

“You let me think you were married!” he said accusingly, and she put her hands on her hips.

“What, like my private life is suddenly your business?” she demanded. “You let me think I was a lousy lay and a waste of your precious time, or have you forgotten?”

Gold opened and closed his mouth, and then inclined his head.

“Touché.”

Belle glared at him, breathing heavily, and he took another drink of wine before setting down the glass.

“So, you’ve been alone since you left,” he said.

“I have friends,” she said defensively. “But no, I’m not married. Or dating, since you ask. All my free time is spent caring for our son.”

“And your studies?” he said. “You were going to do your Master’s. Become a librarian, live your dream. I - I thought—”

“You thought I could just give birth one day and head back to class the next?” she said dryly. “Wow. Can tell you never had kids.”

His jaw clenched, and he looked away.

“So what happened with your studies?” he asked stiffly, and she sighed, running her hands over her face.

“What the hell do you think?” she asked wearily. “I found out I was pregnant not long after I started back, so I studied as long as I could, and then I arranged to take some time out. Luckily the university was sympathetic.”

“And - and you haven’t gone back?” he asked.

“Can’t afford it right now,” she said. “Takes all my effort working to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads. Honestly being back in Storybrooke is kind of a relief. At least I don’t have to worry so much.”

Gold shook his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, and she threw up her hands, letting them slap against her legs.

“Because I couldn’t bear you knowing how utterly pathetic my life is!” she said. “I have a tiny one-room apartment in a crappy building above a goddamn Chinese restaurant, are you happy?”

His mouth was open a little, and she wanted to slap him, with his perfectly tailored suit and manicured nails and his beautiful home. For a moment she wanted to smack him across his smug face.

“It’s cramped,” she said. “And noisy. It’s in a bad part of town and I’m pretty sure one of my neighbours deals drugs because he gets a lot of visitors at night but I don’t feel like I can ask too many questions.”

Gold was staring at her, and it made her want to scream. God, this was humiliating!

“The elevator doesn’t always work,” she added, “and I have to pull the damn stroller up three flights of stairs! I work shifts at a diner and I barely make enough to pay the bills, never mind save up for anything better! And I can only do that because one of my friends loves kids and she’s happy to let Gideon stay with them when she’s not at college herself. My life sucks!”

“So all that time you’ve been struggling!” he snapped. “Trying to make ends meet, Gideon having to make do with hand-me-downs and living in a shit part of town - from what you say a bloody dangerous part of town!”

“It’s not - it’s not that bad—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he shouted. “I could have been providing for my son! For both of you! Are you so fucking stubborn you’d put your own pride before his welfare?”

“Don’t you dare say that!”

“It’s the bloody truth!”

“I tried to tell you!” she protested, throwing up her arms and letting them fall.

“Well, you can’t have tried very bloody hard!”

“I did!” she insisted. “But - but the last time I called you said you’d phone the police if I got in touch again! What the hell was I supposed to think?”

Gold’s eyes narrowed, his mouth flattening.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I - I called,” she said. “Three times, actually.”

“When?” he snapped, eyes flashing.

“When I was around seven months pregnant,” she said, “so - it would have been around March last year, I guess. But - but I heard your voice and I couldn’t speak. I was too afraid! And - and then you told me not to call again, remember?”

Gold blinked, and then his eyes widened, a look of dawning realisation on his face.

“Wait - the silent caller I had was you?” he demanded. “Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that? You didn’t bloody well say anything!”

“Yeah, but you did,” she said stubbornly. “The last time I called you said my name. Right before you told me not to contact you again.”

“Belle…”

He groaned, running a hand over his face, and was silent for a moment, his breathing heavy, making his chest rise and fall beneath the silk shirt. Her own chest was heaving in anger and outrage, and she watched him mutinously, poised on her toes as though she was ready to flee. He seemed to take a calming breath, raising his head to face her.

“I didn’t know, alright?” he said, more reasonably. “Maybe a tiny part of me hoped it was you, but you didn’t respond when I said your name, so I thought it was some bloody idiot trying to piss me off. God knows there are enough of them.”

Belle swallowed what she had been about to say, sinking down onto her heels, toes pulling at the thick pile of the rug.

“Oh,” she said, and Gold shook his head, looking weary.

“That’s the reason you didn’t get in touch,” he said, almost to himself.

“One of the reasons.”

“Yes.” His voice was quiet. “You thought I’d take him away.”

“I—” She shrugged uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. I was afraid of that.”

He nodded, looking terribly sad.

“Well, I’d certainly given you enough reason to think I’d be that big a bastard, I suppose,” he said quietly.

Belle hesitated, the desire to be honest pushing words up from the depths of her heart and into her mouth.

“And - and I was afraid to see you again,” she whispered, and he looked up.

“Why?”

She swallowed hard, meeting his eyes.

“Because I knew I still loved you.”

Gold held her gaze, dark eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite interpret. She was willing him to return the statement, but he glanced away, eyes flicking to the floor, as though he were ashamed.

“Well, in the spirit of honesty,” he said. “Perhaps there’s something I should tell you.”

“Go on,” she said cautiously, and he looked back at her.

“Gideon,” he began, not quite meeting her eyes. “Gideon - is not my first child.”

It felt as though she had been punched in the chest, the blow almost hard enough to hurt, and for a moment she was breathless.

“What?” she whispered, and he sucked in his cheeks, glancing away for a moment before turning back.

“When I was young, I had a brief relationship with a young woman named Milah,” he said. “She didn’t stick around, but about two years after we had broken up, she came back to town. With a son. My son. His name was Bailey.”

Belle shook her head.

“I - I had no idea,” she said softly, and he shrugged.

“We were together for eight months or so,” he went on. “Not a good match - there was no love between us, and I’m positive she only came back because I had a good job and money for her to spend on drink. But I loved him. I loved my son. More than anything.”

“She - she didn’t tell you she was pregnant?” she said, and he shook his head.

“Like I said. Two years. My father said he wasn’t mine, that he could have been anyone’s, but I knew.” His voice was almost a whisper. “The moment I saw him, I knew. I knew it. I felt it.”

Belle turned away, her hands over her mouth, her eyes stinging as she imagined how it would feel to lose Gideon.

“She took him away from you,” she said, in a tiny voice. “She kept him from you, then let you fall in love with him, and then she took him away again.”

She had never thought she could feel so bad. Guilt gnawed at her, and she ran her hands over her face. He was watching her calmly, but his eyes were filled with sorrow. It made her want to cry.

“What happened to him?” she asked, and he shrugged, shoulders hunching a little as he leaned on his cane.

“I have no idea,” he said wearily. “I tried my hardest to look for him, but as I wasn’t named as his father I had no rights. The authorities wouldn’t help. I never was able to track him down, and I suspect I never will. I lost him, Belle. I lost my son.”

Belle rubbed at her chest to relieve the stabbing pain his words had caused.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she whispered, and Gold sighed a little.

“Because I never tell anyone anything,” he said simply, and she let out a mirthless bark of laughter.

“Well, I know that!” she said bitterly. “Like you’d ever let me in, what was I thinking?”

He shrugged, and the motion irritated her to the point of wanting to shake some emotion into him. Bloody man!

“Since we’re being honest with each other, for a bloody change,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me why you broke up with me? The real reason?”

He looked away again.

“Because I thought it was best.”

“For who?”

He didn’t answer, and she could feel her anger growing.

“I loved you!” she insisted. “Why did you push me away?”

“Because I didn’t believe it,” he whispered. “I didn’t believe you.”

“But - but I told you!” she protested. “Why didn’t you believe me?”

He sucked his teeth, glancing away for a moment.

“Because it’s easy to mistake pleasure for affection, and I knew I could give you pleasure,” he said. “I knew I could give you that. If nothing else.”

“Why would you say that?” she demanded, stamping her foot in frustration. “I had the best nights of my life with you, and it wasn’t just about the sex, damn you! You - you made me laugh, and you were interesting, and you wanted to talk to me, and you listened! Why would you say you had nothing else to offer me?”

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted,” he said softly. “I knew that, Belle. I knew I couldn’t let you in, and I knew that wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“But why?” she persisted, stepping forward. “Why the hell can’t you let me in?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes dropping briefly before glancing back up at her, fingers caressing the handle of the cane.

“I was always taught that love is weakness,” he said. “That love is pain. That you hold yourself back from emotional entanglements.”

“Don’t you dare call me an emotional entanglement!” she spat. “Is that honestly how you see me? How you see your son? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He lifted a hand, palm outwards, a placating gesture.

“Please,” he said gently. “I’m sorry, Belle. I didn’t mean it like that, I just - I just meant that I’ve never found it easy. Relationships. Interaction. Any of it, really.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo!” she snapped. “You think it comes easy to anyone? It takes work, you bloody idiot! Relationships always take work!”

He stared at her silently, and she put her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

“Tell me how you feel about me,” she said.

He looked away, his mouth thinning.

“I don’t see what that would achieve.”

“Tell me, damn you!”

Gold’s mouth worked, and she wanted to scream .

“So help me Alex, if you won’t be honest with me, I swear to God I will leave town and—”

“You - you are the only one!” he blurted.

“The only one what?” she snapped, and his face twisted, as though it hurt him to speak.

“The only woman I ever truly wanted,” he said eventually. “The only woman I - I ever - loved.”

He looked as though he was in pain, his breath coming hard, his lips parted. Belle swallowed hard, her heart thumping.

“You - you love me?” she whispered.

“Yes!” he hissed, his eyes flashing.

“How long have you loved me?”

He clenched his teeth, looking away, and she wanted to smack him.

“How long?”

Gold sighed, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” he said wearily. “From the first, perhaps. From the first moment you walked into my shop and offered me your own savings to bail out your useless father. Or perhaps when I first kissed you. Perhaps when I first fucking saw you, It’s hard to say. I’m not the best when it comes to - emotions.”

Belle ran her hands over her face, tears pricking her eyes as she paced the floor. He was silent as he watched her, and she could feel herself shaking with a mixture of rage and grief. Rage that he hadn’t trusted her enough to be honest with her. That he had pushed her away out of fear. Grief for what they could have had. For what might have been.

“If you’d opened up to me just - just once,” she said, her voice trembling. “If you’d let me in just once we could have been together, we could have been a family!”

He remained silent, dropping his eyes to the floor, as though he were ashamed, and she stamped her foot, fury making her storm over to him, her chin jutting outwards.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she shouted. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? All this - this time, all those months when I thought I was alone, that you didn’t want me! That you didn’t love me!”

She slapped her hands against his chest, making him stagger, tears brimming over to track down her cheeks. He raised a hand, and she smacked him again, hating the way that his solid chest felt so comforting, so familiar. Hating that she wanted to bury her face in it.

“I was so fucking scared!” she whimpered. “I was pregnant with your child and all alone and so fucking scared, don’t you get that?”

“I didn’t know,” he said gently. “I didn’t know, sweetheart. I’m so, so sorry, believe me. I just - I thought you deserved more. Your father said—”

“Oh, so you’ll listen to him!” she said, lip curling in a sneer. “You’ll listen to his idea of what my life should be, but you won’t listen to me? Well, screw you!”

She turned on the balls of her feet, resuming her pacing, and Gold watched her with a desperate sort of look that made her want to growl in anger. His eyebrows were tilted upwards at the inner edges, giving him a pleading expression she had never seen on him before.

“I - I thought it would be better,” he said gently. “I thought I was giving you what you needed. To find your future. To study, to see the world. To live your life, to be happy. To - to find someone else!”

Belle let out a mirthless laugh, throwing up her hands in frustration.

“You seriously think there could be anyone after you?” she demanded. “Are you so fucking clueless that you think I could just move on like that?”

“But - but I wanted you to,” he whispered. “I wanted you to move on, Belle.”

“I love you, you moron!” she shouted. “I’ll never love anyone else! I felt your child growing inside me and I loved every painful, terrifying second because he’s a part of you, don’t you get that?”

She let a sob escape, shoving at him with the palms of her hands as her chest heaved.

“We could have been together, you bastard!” she wept. “We could have been together!”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I am, Belle. Believe me.”

He was trying to take her hands, to stop her smacking at his chest, and it only made her angrier. His fingers eased around her wrists, and she wrenched them away, turning her back as she sobbed.

“Belle, please…”

“Leave me alone!” she wept, and heard him sigh, a whispery sound of despair.

“Please,” he repeated, and she felt him step closer, his presence seeming to wrap around her with cold fingers, making her flinch.

“I fucked up,” he said. “I’m - I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder, a light, tentative touch, and she shrugged him off with a violence that almost hurt.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped. “I can’t - I can’t bear to look at you right now!”

He drew back immediately, and she dashed tears from her eyes, her body shaking with sobs. A sound came to her, the faint noise of Gideon crying in his room, and she ran her hands over her face.

“i can see to Gideon,” he said calmly, and she squared her jaw, lifting her chin.

“I’ll do it,” she said, her voice cold. “Then I’m going to bed. And tomorrow I’m moving out.”

“Belle…”

“I mean it!” she snapped. “I can’t stay here! I’m going!”

She stormed away from him, slamming the door behind her, the tears flowing freely as she ran upstairs to comfort their son. They could have been a family. They could have been together.

#fic: dark heart #rumbelle fic #my fic #rumbelle angst #thatravenclawbitch

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