Kissing Stars

"Has anyone seen a blonde? About this high? Speaks french? Loves pink?"

"Ah, Koda--!"

 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.

His statement is absolutely incorrect by all means, because God, how she wants this, how she's wanted it for so long. But what she doesn't want is knowing that he has feelings for another woman as well, while she tries to make herself believe it isn't the case when is so clearly is.

Choose: Belle or Marie?

u smart u loyal u grateful gaston appreciates that

"No. No… We’re not together—” He’s close, though. Oh, so very close to finally getting his moment with Belle and this— His moment with Marie— a perfect moment when placed out of context, is bound to destroy what he worked so hard to build with Belle. Marie knows this and Gaston is aware of the implications as well but he’s been so focused on Belle that he hardly noticed what was right in front 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.

Gaston’s eyes flick closed and it’s all… Hazy. That’s the only way he could describe what his mind felt like in that moment, the only thought that was running through it was Marie and kissing her and how long he’d been waiting to do this and how right it felt. His other hand drops to her waist, pulling her closer and then she speaks but he can’t exactly bring himself to pull away— "Gaston…"

She doesn't want to ask but she has to know, whether she gets the answer she's looking for or not. Her stomach is in knots the moment he replies and God-- She hates the fact that she needs to ask this. She hates the fact that she's worried about being someone's second choice again. Marie pauses, near breathless, trying to manage her words before they all slip out at once and cause a great mess that she's unable to clean up. If things get too bad, she'll have to shove it all under the carpet and smile like she isn't hurt again.

"Well then I think it’s that pretty mouth of your’s that may be confused, cheri.” Gaston stepped closer to her, his hand reaches out and his thumb rubs her bottom lip. “I’m not the kind of guy that should be adored.”

There's a moment, a fraction of a second where Marie is completely still, stunned into silence-- And then a hand finds his shirt, slim fingers twisting into the dark fabric, while the other brings itself up to cup his cheek, stubble rough against the smooth skin of her palm.

"Well aren’t I lucky then?"

"Undeniably so."

"Yes, now you’re full of it… Though, some might accuse you’re charm of being rather glib."

Everyone has to pretend to be nice once in a while. Even those who are supposed to be genuinely kind.

"Oh, please…"

"Just a little."