Books and Hooks

[marymargaret]

Belle had faced emotional upheaval in her life yet never had she encountered such heart shattering pain when discovering that her new husband had continually lied to her.  She'd banished him from her life, from Storybrooke.  Her choice had been difficult, but clear.  Perhaps worst of all was how utterly idiotic she felt after learning the truth.  She recalled all the signs of her husband's deceit; she'd turned a blind eye to them, caught up in her happiness.  

She hadn't gone back to the home she'd shared with Rumple.  Instead she took up the apartment above the library as she had not long after the curse had lifted.  She was returning from Granny's, tea in hand, when she spotted Killian.  She paused before the door to the library, having just been about to unlock the doors.  She felt terrible for the pirate, now knowing that her husband had nearly killed him in his quest for power.

"Hello, Killian," she greeted him with a gentle smile.  Even though she knew Rumple would never have apologized to the pirate, she felt necessary to apologize for not saving him earlier.  "Do you have time to talk?"  She shifted the to-go cup awkwardly in her hands.  She hadn't spoken much to the pirate before.  She supposed the most she'd spoken to him was when she'd recovered Rumple's shawl from his ship.

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

Hook was currently smuggling two bottles of tequila from his work place -- considering he had become a bartender. Some days were easier than others. Some days, he could walk by the couple and smile with ease. Other times, he couldn't bare to look at them. He knew he no longer had a right to be jealous for it had been some time since Emma made her choice.

Besides, seeing her, Neal and Henry together . . . well, they made the perfect family. Hook stood no chance when it came to that, and he had to accept this. Even if his heart ached every time he saw them together. At least he had been able to maintain a somewhat decent relationship with them, though he kept his distance unless he was helping in some way.

He hated that his heart had been under Rumple's control, but Killian wondered if it would have been easier to just keep the organ out of his chest to prevent him from feeling . . . well, anything. But alas, this was his life now, and tonight, he was going to enjoy two bottles of this fascinating drink that this world offered.

He did enjoy his rum but tonight, he wanted something stronger. This was where he also missed his longer coat he wore as a pirate, as he was clad in the attire of this land. His jacket was a bit shorter, but he still managed to keep the bottles concealed under it. About to head to his room in the bed and breakfast, he heard a voice that caused him to pause.

Turning, he saw none other than Belle. She asked if he had time to talk, and he gave a slight smile, taking a few steps toward her. She had saved his life, and he was not dismissive of that. She was also going through something he knew all too well about: the loss of a loved one. Only in her case, it had been betrayal. Damn Crocodile. "For you love, I can spare a few moments," he answered a bit teasingly, since he of course had more than just a few.

"Though I imagine this is not a conversation to be had out here. So your place or mine?" He assumed she wanted to speak in private, and this town tended to have a lot of listening ears. Of course if she preferred somewhere public like the diner, he would respect that as well. It just meant he would have to put off his drinking for a little while longer. He, at the very least, owed Belle a sober conversation.

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[marymargaret]

Belle knew of the rivalry for Emma's affections that had once taken place between Killian and Neal.  She was happy for her step-son, glad that he'd found love with Emma.  It did seem to be a fairy tale ending for the two, which she figured wasn't that out of place considering the two.  Still, she understood what it was like to lose a love; she couldn't help but sympathize as well with Hook.  She wasn't close with him, only speaking to him on occasion.  She wasn't in a place to ask how he was handling it.

She smiled in thanks as he agreed to talk with her.  She nodded toward the door, her hand still on the knob.  "You can come into the library, if you'd like."  She'd planned on shelving books that had recently been checked in though that could be pushed off till later.  Belle opened the door, stepping inside.  She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of books and leather.  The library had been her refuge ever since banishing Rumple. 

The brunette set her tea down at her desk, turning to face him after.  She pushed herself up onto the piece of furniture, hands going into her lap once she was perched upon it.  

"I wanted to apologize, for what Rumpelstiltskin did to you," she began, looking down at her hands.  Her left hand seemed out of place without the heavy ring that she thought she'd never remove.  "I should have realized what was going on before I did; I could have saved you earlier."  She looked back up at him, ashamed of herself.  "I'm sorry."

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

Belle suggested the library, and Hook wordlessly followed her inside, not having been in here for quite some time. It was rather funny, reflecting upon how far they had come. In their very first encounter, he had believed her to have known where the dagger was and . . . well, knocked her out when she told him she didn't know nor would help him find it. After they, well, he had threatened her quite a bit and they had seemed to reach some sort of civility when he had been in the works of reforming himself.

And now here they were, united under by the betrayal of one man -- or creature. Whatever the hell he was. Either way, Belle had not deserved what the Dark One had done to her. Hook had no issue with her; in fact, she seemed like a decent woman, whom everyone in town liked. Rumple didn't deserve her. Just as he hadn't deserved Milah.

Once they were inside, Hook revealed the bottles of drink by setting them on the table before seating himself on the chair across from her. She began the subject right away, apologizing for what Rumple had done to him. He knew this was difficult for her. It was evident in her body language, her expression, her tone of voice. Seeing the trail of destruction Rumple left in his path was sickening.

Hook waited for her to finish, though his mind immediately rejected any need of apology she felt she had to make. So when she was done, he wanted to make this known. "Whatever good The Crocodile had in him, was undoubtedly thanks to you." Because The Dark One had indeed done a few things that had everyone fooled in believing he had fully reformed. Perhaps it was just part of the manipulation.

"However, the dark in him was what made he and I enemies for many years." The dark had been what caused him to abandon his son . . . what caused him to kill Milah. And now, what caused him to betray the woman he had vowed to love and cherish. "None of what happened is your fault, so do not feel you have anything to apologize for." Hook wasn't exactly selfless, but nor was he as selfish as he'd once been. He said these words, not just to make her feel better, but because they were true.

"You wanted to believe the best in him." He could understand that. "It is just a shame that such an undeserving being, gained your affections." Rumple didn't deserve such kindness after all he had done in his life, and all the chances he had been given. "So in that regard, I'm sorry love. That he did to you what he does to everyone in his path." Lie, betray, and destroy them. For death wasn't the only way to destroy a person.

Hook only wished he could have warned her sooner; that he had not been blackmailed into keeping Rumple's secrets before he had taken Hook's heart and gained total control of the pirate. Either way, she was at no fault. Even his last thoughts when he believed he was about to die, had not been blame toward anyone else except Rumplestiltskin.

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[marymargaret]

Belle wasn't sure of what response she would get from him.  He had no reason to accept her apology she supposed.  What her husband did to him was horrendous.  Her blindness to the truth was nearly as bad, in her eyes.  She hadn't expected the smarting of water in her eyes as he spoke to her, assuring her that she inspired the only bit of good that had been in Rumpelstiltskin.  She averted her eyes to her hands in her lap, wondering how she had any tears left after shedding so many the day that she'd banished her husband.

"That is very kind of you," she said, lifting her watery gaze to his.  She sniffed, wiping at her eyes hurriedly with her fingers.  She gave a small, breathless laugh.  "I'm sorry," she excused her display of emotion.  She took a deep breath, only then noticing that he'd set down two bottles.  

"Tequila?" she questioned, raising a brow.  She'd had quite a bit of it when Regina had cursed her as Lacey.  She hadn't touched the drink since.  She wondered if it was easier to hide in a bottle of alcohol than to remember all that happened.  "Call me stereotypical, but I expected rum."  She cracked a smile, feeling a little better.

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

Hook saw the tears in her eyes and well, hadn't meant to make her cry . . . however he knew that with recent events, tears were a natural reaction and he was certain that these were no the only ones she had shed. She commented on how kind it was of him to say such things, before wiping away her tears and apologizing.

"Let it all out, love," he told her with a slight smile. While he couldn't exactly offer comfort, for there was nothing he could do to fix this particular problem -- Rumple had done enough damage -- he could offer his company, or distract her if she so wished . . . which her next question easily prompted him to do. He glanced at the bottles for a moment, his small smile turning into a bit of a smirk.

"Aye," he answered, looking back at her as he picked up a bottle. "One of the more enjoyable things in this world is the abundance and variety of drink available." He did love his rum, but tonight, he had wanted something strong. Perhaps she did too? He brought the bottle to his lips, twisting off the cap with his mouth as he spit it onto the table, then extending the bottle to her.

"Would you care for some?" He offered. Perhaps she needed it more than he did tonight . . . but of course, he had no idea if she would take him up on the offer, or if she preferred remaining in a sober state. The fact that she had given at least a bit of a smile upon asking her question, indicated that perhaps she did need a distraction from all this . . . and what better one was there than drink.

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[marymargaret]

Belle observed the bottles in amusement.  Before coming to this world the only alcohol she'd drank had been wine.  It was the drink of the nobility and, as her father enjoy a good vintage, she'd had it quite often.  However she'd never gotten drunk before, until taking on 'Lacey'.  Women of her position in the Enchanted Forest would never have risked dishonoring themselves by drinking copious amounts of alcohol.  Here it seemed to be far more acceptable.

She hadn't touched alcohol since Lacey though the idea of the tequila was intriguing.  "I would," she said, a small smile forming on her lips.  Her tea was forgotten on her desk; she supposed she could always reheat it later.  It wouldn't help distract her from her failed marriage like tequila would.  She took the offered bottle, taking a swig of it.  She shuddered as it went down her throat, unused to the taste and burn.  

Tears smarted in the corners of her eyes though it wasn't from despair, but rather the strength of the alcohol.  She handed it back to him after, laughing lightly.  "I hadn't exactly expected my night to go like this," she chuckled.  She raked a hand through her brunette hair, idly wondering where she'd left her hair tie.  

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

He watched her take the drink and a sip from it. His smile turned into one of amusement at her reaction to the strong beverage, taking it in his hand when she offered it back to him. Who needed those little shot glasses anyway. This saved the trouble of pouring. At least her tears were now caused by another source, and it was good to hear her soft laughter, letting herself forget all else, even if it was just for a few moments.

She went onto say how she hadn't expected her night to go like this, and he took a large gulp of the drink, swallowing it as he quite enjoyed the way it gave a slight burn in his throat. "If there's one thing I've learned, is that life never goes according to plan." If it had, he would be with Emma right now. Or he'd be sailing the seas with Milah. Sometimes, you think you have a lifetime with someone . . . only to be faced with the harsh cruel reality of this world.

Not wanting to dwell on such things, or drag the conversation down, he took another swig of tequila, before offering the bottle back to her. "However, if you envisioned your evening to be filled with shelving books and doing inventory, then I'm glad I provided a better alternative," he said smirking, his voice teasing as he spoke with playful arrogance -- assuming his company was indeed better than whatever work she had planned for the night.

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[marymargaret]

He was right about life not going according to plan.  If it had she would be married to Sir Gaston, a bored and timid wife to an egotistical man.  She couldn't fathom the idea of marrying such a man and had been somewhat glad that her engagement had ended after accepting Rumpelstiltskin's deal.  If life went according to plan, she mused, she would be living a perfect life with Rumple.  But life did not often follow plans which were painstakingly created and hoped for.

Belle accepted the bottle again, taking another swig.  It was larger than the last, burning her throat though not nearly as badly as the first sip. It warmed her, all the way down to her stomach as she took in the liquid.  She passed back the bottle.  "You're a far better alternative," she teased with a smile.  She didn't like being alone as she was prey to her thoughts and memories.  Nor did she wish to seek out those in town, as she was often the target of pitying looks.  It seemed that Hook understood, though.  He had been wronged by her husband, he had lost a love as well.

She smoothed her skirt with her fingertips, taking a deep breath.  She was feeling marginally better than before she stopped him to talk. 

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

Hook took the bottle in his hand once again when she offered it to him after having taken a sip. He too took another, a large one, heavily swallowing and savoring the delicious taste of the drink. She teasingly replied that his company was indeed a far better alternative than what her evening had initially entailed. "Glad you see it that way too, love," he teased, with a bit of a wink.

He then watched her as she smoothed her skirt, clearly her mind and heart still burdened with everything. Though she was doing quite well in appearing poised and controlled . . . he knew what she was going through. He knew her husband and what he was capable of, perhaps better than most anyone else in this town. And he also knew, that he would need to be a better distraction. Taking another swig, he then offered the bottle back to her as he spoke.

"I've been invited many places by many women," he began to say, a teasing arrogance in his voice -- even though it held some truth. "But I have to say, you're the first to ever invite me to a library," he added in further teasing as he gave a smile to match his tone. His words of course weren't meant as an insult, but rather, appreciative of the originality. Though of course he knew she had invited him here for a very different reason than what he had been referring to. He was merely trying to lighten the mood.

[marymargaret]

Belle looked up, seeing the bottle being held out to her from of her peripheral vision.  She lifted her head to take it, the liquid becoming less uncomfortable with every pass of the bottle between them.  The swig left her feeling a little lightheaded though she found she didn't mind the effect.  "I'm rather glad to be the first, then," she chuckled.  

"In all fairness I've never drank alcohol in a library before.  I suppose they're firsts for both of us."  A smile lifted her lips.  It was rather comforting to be able to jest with him to get her mind off recent events.  Storybrooke seemed to be a town designed for second chances; nearly all enemies were now allies.  It made sense, then, for her to be friendly with the man that had once locked her up for Regina and shot her.  Perhaps not to outsiders, but Hook was a changed man.  At least, she believed him to be.  Rumple was the last man she believed to have changed and she was dreadfully wrong in her observation.  

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

Hook smiled at her response, his own expression amused by her teasing along with the subject. She went on to say that she had never drank alcohol in a library before . . . and that there were firsts for both of them. "Aye. Well, you know what they say about firsts and how . . . memorable they are," he said with a bit of a playful smirk, his words holding obvious suggestiveness as to what sort of firsts he was referring to.

He could blame the tequila, or blame the beautiful woman sitting before him; he could blame the years of being a pirate, or the fact that they were both bonding over a common enemy. Either way, the words came out, for he was just continuing to ease her mind and not let it be burdened by the actions of the Dark One.

"Should you ever require to relive this, I have plenty stock of drink at my workplace." Perks of being a bar tender and surrounded by all the alcoholic beverages. "It was my intention to drink both bottles alone, but you too provided a rather welcome alternative," he told her, of course not minding company. After all, as he said, things never did go according to plan.

[marymargaret]

Belle couldn't help but blush at his insinuation.  Rumpelstiltskin had been her first and only.  She could hardly fathom the idea during her marriage of ever straying from him; she'd been certain that what they had was true love.  Though now she was not so sure that her observation was correct.  Was she still even married?  She wasn't sure that the state laws of Maine concerned spouses who banished their husbands because of trickery and almost-murder.

"I may have to take you up on that offer," she chuckled.  She was feeling rather better than before, though she wasn't sure if that had to do with the conversation she was having with him or the alcohol she'd consumed.  She fancied it was a bit of both.  She placed her hands on the edge of the desk she was sitting upon, fingers curling around it.  "Everyone in town gives me looks of such pity.  Yet you don't make me feel pitied."  

She eyed him curiously.  "We understand each other, I think."

[Killian Jones]

if your heart

CAN BE BROKEN
IT MEANS IT STILL WORKS

She told him that she may take him up on that offer, and even if it was just an alcohol induced thought, he was at least glad she was considering it. "I truly hope you do," he told her, taking another large drink before setting the bottle on the desk for her. At his rate, it wouldn't be long until they opened the other one.

She went on to say that everyone in the town gave her looks of pity . . . and pointing out that he didn't. He knew what it felt like to be given those looks of sympathy as people awkwardly spoke, unsure what to say. It only made a person feel worse; feel as if they were incapable of having a normal conversation, and be treated without being looked at like a pity case. She even vocalized his own thoughts, stating that they understood each other. Hearing the words aloud and that she shared a similar mindset, created this rather unique -- and unexpected -- bond.

Yes. He did understand her. He knew her husband before, and this was the second time that Killian was seeing the effects of how The Crocodile treated his wife. "Aye, that we do," he stated, wanting to vocalize his own agreement with her words. "Don't let the others get to you, lass," he began to tell her. Ignore their pity looks. Avoid their company until she was healed. People here could be suffocating. Hook understood that quite a bit and he didn't even have his ship to escape on. Perhaps if he had, he would be long gone by now.

"You've wasted many tears on the Crocodile," he began to tell her, not to be harsh and to further explain, he continued. "He doesn't deserve your pain. He deserves your anger and hate, and you should let it out. You don't have to sit here prim and proper for me, love. You don't have to keep up appearances. Not here. Not tonight." He knew that need for an outlet. His had been revenge. Perhaps hers was just needing to scream it out, or smashing the near empty tequila bottle. He just wanted her to know that there was no judgment here on his part. No need to remain the calm and composed Belle.

[marymargaret]

Belle wondered if he found the irony in that by comforting her he had helped to pick up the pieces of not one but two of Rumpelstiltskin's marriages.  She briefly wondered what Milah had been like.  She was not supportive of the woman's choice to leave her son but had some understanding of why she had deserted Rumpelstiltskin.  Killian was a dashing man.  She supposed it would be easy for one to drop everything and leave with him.

She considered his suggestion, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.  She had wanted to rage at him that night at the town line.  She'd wanted him to feel the pain that she felt, knowing that he'd lied to her for weeks.  Yet she hadn't done either, instead settling for simply driving him out of Storybrooke.  Her actions, though harsh, were deserved.

She eyed the bottle of alcohol he'd placed on the desk as she mulled over his speech.  She grabbed it before downing the remains.  It was more than a swig, causing her to chug the last bit.  She set the empty bottle down, coughing slightly from the burn of the liquid.  She wiped at her eyes to erase the evidence of the harshness of the tequila.  

"Thank you."  She looked over at him somewhat shyly.