#vainhunter

❛  will  i  ?  ❜  challenge  laces  itself  into  lefou’s  words  as  he  steps  closer  ,  into  gaston’s  personal  space  .  ❛  and  WHY  is  that  ?  do  you  intend  to  have  me  carted  off  &  thrown  in  an  asylum  ?  or  maybe  you  intend  to  hit  me  ?  ❜  his  head  tilts  to  one  side  ,  CONSIDERING  him  .  ❛  i  won’t  say  it  ,  for  your  benefit  ,  but  we  both  know  i  don’t  NEED  to  .  you  know  every  bit  of  it  anyway  .  ❜

Belle could not believe Aunt Marguerite was doing this to her. Bad enough that Papa had brought them to Villeneuve in the first place, she didn’t like the sleepy little hamlet, but it was even worse when his overbearing older sister— really, no wonder they’d never visited before now— was insisting on arranging a marriage for Belle. Apparently, twenty meant ‘spinster’ in this town, and ‘spinster’ meant ‘outcast.’

And Aunt Marguerite hadn’t even bothered to ask Belle what qualities she might have liked in a husband, she’d just decided that this ‘Gaston’ person was a good match because he was handsome, and popular, and a former soldier who’d been quite the hero in the war twelve years earlier.

❛  NO  !  ❜  the  word  tears  itself  from  lefou’s  throat  before  he  has  time  to  even  CONSIDER  what  he’s  doing  or  why  ,  before  he  has  time  to  realize  how  foolish  of  a  decision  it  is  that  he’s  making  .  he  can’t  remember  the  last  time  he  raised  his  voice  to  gaston  ;  he’s  not  certain  he  EVER  has  .  now  that  he’s  begun  ,  though  ,  there’s  no  turning  back  ,  &  reason  seeps  into  him  just  enough  to  make  his  voice  level  (  even  if  he  can’t  keep  it  from  CRACKING  )  .

❛  no  ,  gaston  .  YOU  don’t  get  to  say  that  .  this  isn’t  ——  ❜  anxious  fury  simmers  just  under  the  surface  of  his  skin  &  his  fists  clench  into  the  fabric  of  his  sleeves  .  ❛  i’m  not  just  one  of  your  TAVERN  GIRLS  ——  ❜  the  words  are  spat  out  ,  thick  with  jealousy  ——  ❛  for  you  to  have  your  fun  with  &  then  toss  aside  the  moment  it  becomes  inconvenient  for  you  ,  then  come  sneaking  back  into  my  bed  the  first  time  the  night  gets  too  long  .  ❜

his  palms  land  on  gaston’s  chest  ,  &  even  shoving  with  all  his  MIGHT  isn’t  enough  to  make  him  budge  .  &  isn’t  just  the  way  they  always  are  ,  he  thinks  ?  ❛  you  can  leave  now  ,  if  that’s  what  you  really  want  .  but  if  you  do  ,  you’ll  find  the  door  locked  behind  you  .  ❜

“it’s not… that hard?” he’s not sure if that’s a question or not. “you feed it, you take it outside, teach it to sit… you’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

he's managed to take care of a HORSE for most of his life, he supposes, so by comparison a dog should be easy —— right ? but then, horses also stay OUTSIDE. dogs have to be house trained. and there's a difference between an adult horse and a PUPPY.

it's clearly a mutt of some sort, and from how dirty and rough he looks, he has a feeling the dog is a STRAY. he can't exactly say no. ( besides, he's pretty sure this is gaston's way of giving HIMSELF a dog without having to put in any of the work. if he says no, the dog will just go home with gaston, and lefou will STILL end up doing all the work. )

michel  looks  at  him  over  the  piano  ,  where  he’s  currently  leaned  against  ,  lips  pressed  together  in  curiosity  .  his  fingers  drum  lightly  against  the  wood  as  he  considers  him  .  ❛  have  you  SERIOUSLY  never  told  someone  you  loved  them  before  ?  ❜  he  supposes  it  should  be  less  surprising  than  it  is  ;  after  all  ,  this  is  G A S T O N  ,  a  walking  poster-child  for  the  damage  caused  by  toxic  masculinity  .  belle  could  probably  write  her  entire  senior  thesis  on  him  alone  .  GASTON  and  FEELINGS  don’t  exactly  go  hand  in  hand  .  ❛  not  even  just  to  get  a  girl  to  sleep  with  you  ?  ❜