requested by Alm344

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Gaston had been dismissed, rejected, publicly humiliated. It was more than he could bear. Belle had rejected his marriage proposal, and he honestly could not understand where he had gone wrong with her.

Hadn't he done all the things a good man should do? Present flowers to a woman? Make sure she knew she was in the presence of a true man?

"Beer, Gaston?"

Gaston glanced up at you, one of his two most trusted friends. "No," he said, face sour.

You sighed, hand on your hip, pitcher of beer in clutch. "You're not really moping over the inventor's daughter, are you?"

Gaston glared at you. "What's it to you?"

"I just wondered," you said. "Is that what you're moping about?" 

"I proposed," he hissed, leaning forward. "And she turned me down. Do you realize how humiliating that is?"

"Did you ever think about how humiliating it is for her?" you asked. "And I don't mean it'd be embarrassing to be proposed to by you, Gaston, but to be proposed to by a man you aren't even courting. I'm sure it didn't make her happy to turn you down."

His face softened. "Then could you explain to me why she turned me down?" 

"Gaston," you said, putting the pitcher on the table. You sat down on the seat beside him and scooted close. "Belle is great and all, but she doesn't feel the same way about you. And that's okay. It means nothing against you, it means there's someone better for you out there and there's someone better out there for her. You're a good looking guy, you're funny, you're strong... you're great. Truly. Don't let this convince you otherwise."

"Thank you, my friend," he said. "Your words are much needed. But Belle... she's the prettiest girl in the village. Everyone says so."

You stood and smiled. "Well. Just because everyone says so, doesn't mean it is so to you."

Stanley and Tom called you over, holding up their mugs and asking for beer. You picked the pitcher up and walked over to refill their drinks.

"___ has a point," LeFou said, perched on his stool.

"Yes," Gaston said. "Perhaps Belle wasn't the woman for me."

"I don't think she was," he said thoughtfully.

"There are better girls out there," Gaston scoffed. "Right... right, LeFou?"

His friend widened his eyes. "Oh, yes!" he breathed. "There are plenty of good women around us. They're all beautiful."

Gaston glanced around. One of the three girls that always seemed to fawn over him waved. He sneered his nose. "I suppose. But none of them make me feel... make me feel... I don't know the word I am looking for. LeFou, what makes a woman worth wooing?"

"Er... well, there's... you should pick someone who makes you feel safe, respected, and heard. And you should pick someone who you can hold a conversation with and enjoy every part of it. With Belle, you hated hearing her ramble on about her books. Who is someone you can really talk to? Who is someone that makes you feel good about yourself?"

Gaston thought hard, harder than he ever had before in his life. To pick someone who he connected to emotionally was strange. Never in his life had he believed that anything more than looks mattered. If everyone thought Belle was the prettiest girl in the village, then she was, and that was all that mattered.

"Gaston!" you exclaimed, skipping over to him. 

He lifted his head, perking up as soon as you sat down at his side, hair falling in a mess around your face. "What is it?" 

"I have something that might just help raise your spirits." You stood and took both of his hands. "Come, come!" 

"What? What has gotten into you, madmoiselle?" 

You squeezed his hands. "I have requested a song for you."

"Oh." He stopped walking and shook his head. "I truly don't feel like dancing..."

"Gaston," you said, dropping your head with a tilt. 

"I am sorry, madmoiselle, I just---"

"Come on," you said, putting one hand on his shoulder and keeping your other hand around his. "Dance with me, Gaston."

He looked at you and froze.

Who is someone you can really talk to?

Who is someone who makes you feel good about yourself?

Gaston straightened his back. He smiled and it was genuine and real. "Okay, madmoiselle."

You flashed a grin and Gaston swept you up into his arms as he began to spin you both.

"Look at you," you said breathlessly, letting go of his shoulder to spin out and away from him. "You're happier already." 

"I had no idea you were so good at dancing," he said, and his heart skipped a beat as you spun into his chest. 

"Well, maybe instead of flirting with Belle, you should've asked me to dance," you said teasingly, spinning out and leaping away from him. You swapped dance partners, and as he spun with a new woman, he found himself not even looking at her. 

He could not take his eyes off of you.

/ / /

The next day, you walked around the market in the village, your basket hanging off your arm. You smiled at the children who played in the puddles nearby. 

"Ah, ___. What are you doing up so early?" LeFou asked as he stepped outside of the baker's shop, a bag of bread hanging from his hand. 

"Oh, bonjour, LeFou," you said. "I have to get some eggs and bread today."

"Oh." He reached into his bag and handed you a loaf of bread. "Please, go ahead---"

"Oh, no, I couldn't!" 

"Please," he insisted, putting it in your basket. "What are friends for?" 

You smiled. "Well, I thank you."

He nodded. 

He walked alongside you until a hand shot out of an alleyway and grabbed hold of his sleeve. He gasped as he was yanked into the shadows, a hand planted over his mouth. His eyes widened as he saw Gaston's face right in front of him.

"Gaston!" he said, voice muffled by the hand over his mouth. He pushed his friend away. "What are you doing!?"

"I have a secret to tell you!" the man hissed. "A secret I don't want ___ to hear."

"Well, what is it?" he asked, pushing Gaston away. "And why are you keeping things from her?"

Gaston shook his head. When he spoke, he sounded as if he were out of breath. "I fell in love with her last night."

LeFou blinked. "Gaston, if this is an attempt at being funny, I don't know what to say." 

"I'm not being funny!" 

"Because humor hasn't always been your strong suit---"

Gaston shut his eyes. "Will you please---!" He grabbed fistfuls of LeFou's jacket and pushed him against the wall. 

"I am sorry, Gaston. It's just that you fall in love with women all of the time..." 

"I know I do!" he said. He paused before he continued. "But yesterday you told me that I would know a good woman if I felt good about myself when I am around her. Well, my friend... ___ knows me very well. When I was feeling down about myself, she insisted we dance. She knows that dancing is my favorite thing. Dancing and beer."

"Uh-huh..." LeFou nodded. "Well, I am not so sure that means you're in love with her---"

"I know my feelings, LeFou. I have pondered them all night. I am falling in love with her." 

LeFou stared at his friend, now at a loss for words. Gaston sounded incredibly serious about this, but it seemed too far-fetched. He never stuck to one woman. Never. He moved on faster than anyone ever had. He had moved on from Belle that easily, too. 

"Gaston," LeFou said. "I don't think that pursuing her is a good idea. I mean, this is our friend. If you hurt her, we'd all three be broken up forever. I know you aren't a cold person. I know you care about her, but doing this might just..."

"Why are you so convinced that I would hurt her?" he asked. "I have no desire to cause her any pain whatsoever. LeFou, I cannot begin to explain how it felt to dance with her last night. I've never danced with her before! I noticed how beautiful she truly was as well. Not just in her physical features, but in the way she behaved. She is so kind yet strong, so - so independent and caring. I could feel how she genuinely wanted me to smile again, and I wanted to smile just so she would grin at me in return. What else would you call that?"

"I am not sure," LeFou admitted. 

"Exactly." Gaston stepped back. "I am in love with her."

You stepped into the shadows. "You're what?"