Only my second multi-chapter story ever- WHOAAA!
Now, I don't like this pairing. Not at face value, anyway. But, inspired by Watcher of the Hearts' "A Chance for Love," as well as the movies How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 10 Things I Hate About You, She's All That, 50 First Dates, and Shrek (yes, Shrek), I decided to try my hand at this pairing and their love-hate relationship.
Starting off with a short intro, here we go! Enjoy!
Gaston's signature guffaw echoed throughout the tavern, nearly drowned out by the screams of the other patrons. His last joke ended on a rather risqué note, projecting the entire pub into a riot; the beer had been flowing freely since the sun went down and already everybody was feeling the rush of being tipsy. As the bar quieted down, the conversation began to shift to the subject of Gaston's last punchline; women. One woman, in particular, was always a hot topic in the village: Belle, the inventor's daughter. Arguably the most beautiful girl in their poor provincial, town in France, she was also the most abnormal, with an unusual habit of always reading.
"That girl is strange, no question."
"Strange, but special!"
"No denying she's a funny girl, that Belle."
"It's a pity and a sin, she doesn't quite fit in."
"She always has a dreamy, far-off look."
"And her nose stuck in a book!"
"Well, it's no wonder that her name means 'beauty!' Her looks have got no parallel."
"But behind that fair façade, I'm afraid she's rather odd."
A pensive look came over Gaston's face. What did a little abnormality mean to him? Aphrodite's beauty paled in comparison to Belle's, and that's all that mattered. She'd be the perfect trophy to add to his collection. Trophy wife, that is.
The thought had never occurred to Gaston before, and he slowly straightened up in his seat as it dawned on him; it only made sense that the two handsomest people in town should marry, and then go on to have handsome children together.
The bulging hunter could see it now; waltzing about town with Belle on his arm, showing her off. She'd be the perfect wife, cooking and cleaning and breeding and doting on his every whim. He deserved her. There could be no other.
"What's on your mind, Gaston?" someone from the back shouted out. It was unusual for him to sit on his throne, silent rather than bragging about one of his hunts or trophies. The talk in the room simmered down and a few people chuckled as everybody looked to the alpha male expectantly. Gaston smirked.
"I've decided," he started, slowly, rubbing his chin. "I've decided… to make Belle my wife."
The tavern was still for a moment before everyone burst into laughter. A couple of exceptionally drunk men rolled to the floor, giggling and screeching and holding their guts to keep them from splitting open. A flood of anger rushed over Gaston and he rose quickly to a defensive stance, flexing his muscles; no one laughed at Gaston!
"What's so funny?" he demanded, his voice overtaking the buzz. When no one responded right away, he whipped his mug across the room; a swaying man unfortunate enough to be in its path went down like a bag of sand. Everyone in the room, shocked, looked to see if the man was okay. When he began snoring on the floor, they turned back to Gaston.
"You think she's the marrying type?" a woman asked.
"You must've had a hunting accident!" a man shouted.
Gaston scoffed as an old man began waving money in the air.
"I have 10 francs on Belle!"
"I'll bet 5 on Maurice!"
"I bet she won't even talk to you!"
"I bet she'd rather marry a book!"
"I bet she's already married to a book!"
People began drunkenly voicing their opinions left and right, placing bets and throwing money down in good humor, and Gaston shouted for them to shut their mouths. He was almost insulted. This was his idea, and that meant it had to be a damn good one.
"I bet I could win her!" Gaston retaliated. More chastising followed.
"Yeah, in 7 years!"
"More like 70!"
"Only if you bought her a library!"
The hunter's thick fist hit the table. His ego spewed forth like a waterfall.
"Seven days!" Gaston challenged. The crowd gasped. Some money exchanged hands.
"Only one week?"
"One week," he reassured them. A man in the back raised his beer.
"The name of the game: win Belle's heart. You have one week from today, M'sieur Gaston- here's a drink to you!"
Everybody cheered and toasted, clinking their glasses together. Gaston's attitude turned sour. They didn't believe he could do it. He would show them.
Gaston never fails.
He marched for the door, receiving words of support and enthusiasm and slaps on the back for good luck along the way. A trio of blonde women informed him that they'd agree to be his wives in only one day. But Gaston shrugged them off. As he reached the bold, oak doors of the tavern and gripped the wrought-iron handle, he turned back to the room.
"I'll have Belle for my wife. Make no mistake about that!"
And with that, he stormed out of the tavern and slammed the door, leaving behind a crowd of roaring, piss-drunk imbeciles.