The Beast And His Belle

Chapter 13

"Belle." She woke to his gentle voice and comforting caress of her cheek as she stirred herself more awake.
"You need to eat something," Jackson whispered holding a tray of plated food for her. He set it down while he sat on the edge of the bed helping her sit up.
"Thank you," she said in a scratchy voice and he gently laughed.
"Don't thank me yet. It probably tastes terrible." He brought her attention to a bowl of steaming soup in his hands.
"Y-you made this?" she took it from him and looked up in surprise as he nervously scratched his neck.
"I didn't know what you liked so I just threw all the vegetables I could find in a pot and boiled it with some water. Like I said, it probably tastes terrible but at least it's something in your stomach." She suppressed a laugh so he wouldn't be offended or embarrassed but she was shocked, to say the least. She took a spoonful and tried to eat it as gracefully as she could. The vegetables were chopped in thick large chunks too big to eat without biting into them and the broth was bland and watery, but the fact that he put so much effort into taking care of her was insurmountable.
"It's actually not bad," she said with a smile as she noticed him analyzing her every bite.
"Yea, sure," he rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious. I think even Flora would be impressed," she said wondering to herself why he didn't call Flora if he didn't know how to cook.
"Umm, can I ask a silly question?" he looked at her scrunched face. "What day is it?"
Laughing at her question thinking it wasn't silly at all after the trauma she'd been through. "It's technically Monday. It's one A.M. but I couldn't let you go any longer without eating."
Her eyes grew wide in shock. "I've been sleeping for that long!"
He happily nodded.
"B-but what about you? Where have you been sleeping? I've taken over your bedroom!"
His eyes paved the way to the small sofa at the end of the bed. "Right here, in case you needed anything."
"W-well, what about work? I mean you should be asleep! You're going to be exhausted today?" He let out a smirk looking at up her.
"I am the boss you know. I decide when it's necessary for me to go in or not. And I think you're the necessity for me to stay right here." Belle stayed silent in her bewilderment of who this man had become. Her heart was coming alive, thumping at a new pace.

He warmly smiled back at her as she continued to fill her empty stomach. "So what made you become a vegetarian?" he asked nervously striking conversation.
"No particular reason I guess. I've just always loved animals and it saddens me to think they've been raised only to be slaughtered. I mean we have a surplus of all these foods in the world, killing a living thing just seems barbaric." She looked up to see him thinking about her words.
"Sorry."
"Don't be, I can see your point."
"I don't have anything against people whose favorite food is roast chicken," she said comically hoping he wasn't already offended.
"Who said roast chicken was my favorite food?"
"Umm, you did? At the dinner meeting with Andre..."
"Oh...right," he avoided eye contact and she knew he had lied about that and was playing her at her own game that night.
"Ok then, so what's your favorite food?" she asked taking in another spoonful of soup.
"I don't know actually. No ones ever asked me that. What's yours?" diverting the topic back to her.
"Mmmm ratatouille. Now come on, everyone has a favorite food! If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
He thought hard for a while then his face resonated with a smile.
"Alright, probably my mom's spaghetti and bolognese sauce," he said thinking of her loving memory.

Belle smiled along with him before the conversation fell silent while she continued eating.
"Thank you," she said again as she finished her bowl of soup.
"I'll take it," he reached out and grabbed the bowl from her hands and their fingers collided.
"Oh my God! Your hands are freezing!" She gasped and he pulled them away taking the bowl from her hands.
"Sorry," he shied away but she grabbed his hand and turned him back towards her. Seeing that his cheeks were flushed, she lifted her hand to feel his forehead.
"You have a fever!"
"I'm fine, don't worry about me," he pulled her hand from his forehead but she tugged him towards the bed.
"No, you're not! You were in the icy water too and you've been sleeping without covers on a sofa for more than a day." she slid over to the side of the bed and opened the blankets. "Now get under here before I lose someone else to pneumonia!" she ordered and he followed her commands.