Belle and Her Beast

Hidden Memories

                                                Chapter 11

            “Mrs. Potts, this is amazing,” I say while chewing the heavenly pot roast. My eyes are closed while I savor each bite. I never had home cooked meals, or a home, really. I take a peek at Dean to see his always present smirk.

            “What?” I ask.

            “Has no one fed you since college started?” He asks as he slowly puts the spoon to his lips.

            “Of course I have…it just has not been as pleasant as Mrs. Potts.” I smile at the older woman who is now leaving us to give us privacy I think. I suppose cooks don’t eat with their employer.

            “Well this weekend you will eat more than enough.”

            “Sounds alright to me.” We eat silently, not uncomfortably. It reminds me of the morning we ate breakfast together at the hotel. After I’ve almost emptied the bowl Dean speaks.

            “Do you have homework to do?” he asks.

            “Not in your class,” I smile. He knows he didn’t assign anything for the weekend. “A little for History and Science.”

            “I can help if you need me.” He sips a glass of a red colored wine and I can’t help but stare at the way his lips touch the glass. Why is it so seductive?

            “I’d love to see the house when you’re ready,” I say quietly. Is it my nerves? He sets the glass back down and stands.

            “Let’s begin with my quarters.” And with that I follow him, showing me the kitchen and the dining room, and then he stops me right before I run into him. There are two huge walnut doors he’s standing next to.

            “I think you might like this one the most.” I scrunch my brows together in confusion as he smiles and opens both doors.

            I gasp, a small almost inaudible sound. I walk slowly and in awe of the massive library. There middle of the room is empty but the walls are covered in books. There’s even a balcony on the second floor of the room that has books too. I see a ladder, the kind that has wheels and attaches itself to the shelving. In the back I see a fireplace made from stone and in front of it a large red sofa of velvet. What century did I just step into?

            “Dean, this is incredible,” I say mostly to myself. He doesn’t need praise. This room is praise enough. How did he collect so many books? I’ve never seen anything like it.

            “This was my family home until I bought it. This was my escape from the world,” he says almost as an afterthought. An escape? from what? He looks sad for a moment until he finally catches me staring at him.

            “So you grew up here?” His eyes darken at my question. He’s mad.

            “No. I didn’t.” 

            “Where did you grow up then?”

            “Belle, no more questions.” He grabs my hand and leads me out of the library. I want to ask where we’re going but I’m not allowed to ask anything. He leads me down another hallway and up the grand staircase. The exercise I’ll get this weekend from the stairs alone will be enough for me. But then again, I’ll have Dean too. The thought makes me blush. I know I’m slowing him dwn with my heels but he seems preoccupied with something and I don’t disturb him.