a_chipped_cup: ([Belle] Broken)
Belle French ([personal profile] a_chipped_cup) wrote in [community profile] entrancelogs2015-05-19 06:59 am

Shattered Sight

Who: Belle and OPEN
Where: Shelter Research Station
When: Backdated to 5/15 - 5/18
Rating: PG - 13
Summary: Hiding the dagger and distrusting everyone
The Story:

It was her first time experiencing a change in the world around her. The beautiful mansion now changed into an unfamiliar setting, leaving her cold and shivering alone. Her arrival here with a certain dagger had left her in a vulnerable position. Taking Henry's advice, she had hidden herself away, trying to decide what to do with Rumpel's dagger.

There were still no answers. She was vulnerable and vulnerability left her suspicious. Hostility wasn't a quality inherent in Belle, but this place seemed to breed it.
undealt: (✒ you shall be the unlocked door)

[personal profile] undealt 2015-06-12 04:56 am (UTC)(link)
He recoils a bit, realizing in that moment that he's said the wrong thing- too little, too late, per usual. At first he opens his mouth to protest, but her logic is sound, and even he can't deny that as much as he wants to be with her and seek her comfort (maybe apologize for trying to distract her, if he can muster it- maybe actually tell her the truth), Zelena could easily twist this around.

And then, of course, there's his own doubt that could simmer into resentment, into something dark and awful that he'd never want to show Belle directly, because she wants to believe so badly that darkness can't overtake him, but it can. Oh how it can.

Oh, how it is.

He reaches to clutch his heart for a moment, aware of the fact that though the blackness hasn't fully encased it yet, it will soon, and he's never been more aware of that than this moment, the paranoia and fear driving him to fear the worst about everyone- Belle, himself, Zelena.

She's right. He's better off not near anyone.

"Yes..." he says, slowly. "Don't worry, Belle. It will be over soon. I'll see you again soon."

It's a weak promise, one with tiny murmurs of unspoken apologies. Slowly, he backs out, as awkwardly as he did the night she lost her memory and cried out when he'd tried to kiss her. Even after he turns to walk away completely, he still glances over his shoulder.

You fool, he curses himself. You damned fool.