Cursed

31. Belle's Birthday

"We should bake!"

"Bake?" he looked at me as if I had the nose of an elephant as well as an afro, which by the way I could totally rock.

"We could bake my mother's triple chocolate fudge cake. It's my favorite and I know the recipe by heart." I could see the hint of a smile creeping up onto his lips.

"I have never baked a cake." My jaw may have dropped a fraction.

"You've never baked a cake?"

"I have never baked anything."

"You've never... what kind of poor unfortunate childhood did you have?"

"Not much of one." I didn't really know how to respond to that, but it didn't matter because he soon continued, "I grew up surrounded by servants. I was not permitted to enter the kitchen."

"Well, now you are the boss of the place."

"I suppose I am."

"So...cake?"

"Are you actually asking me?"

"No, not really. I suppose not." I smirked at my own cleverness in turning his own words against him.

"I am strangely unaffected by the notion." His smile grew. I had been catching him smiling more and more often as our time together passed and I found that I was curiously thrilled to think that it was thanks to me.

"And it's such a lovely day, we could do something outside. Something different.

"Go on. You obviously already have something in mind," he urged and I smiled sheepishly.

"I miss hiking."

"Pardon?"

"Hiking, you know, like walking in the wilderness for sport."

"With what destination?"

"None whatsoever."

"Belle!" he slumped his face into his large paws in what seemed to be exasperation, "I do not understand you." I may have let slip agiggle.

"So we will go for a hike in the woods outside the gate while the cake is baking. Your kitchen regularly bakes cakes on its own, I am sure it can keep a cake from burning..." I rambled on excitedly.

"Wait, wait, stop just a moment," I snapped my lips shut and waited for what he had to say, "You want to leave?"

"Not leave, just see something a little different." I studied his face to gauge his reaction as I spoke, "You know I adore your roses but they are all I have seen in months."

"We cannot leave the manor grounds," his expression darkened.

"How long have you been holed up in here? Years? Decades?" I couldn't muster the courage to say centuries though I had my suspicions,"Don't you want to get out just for a few hours?"

"Belle, we cannot." His tone was final.

"And why not?" I put on my stubborn face. His lips formed a grim line. It seemed he recognized my stubborn face and was not too happy about it, "You said we could do whatever I want today and I always hike on my birthday," with my dad. There, I said it. Most of it anyhow. Stupid elephant in the room.

"Belle, we simply cannot."

"What are you so afraid of?" I knew I was being childish but I couldn't seem to stop the stream of emotions that was leaving my lips, "I'm not going to run away you know." An uncomfortable lump made itself at home in the base of my throat as all my pent up homesickness began to claw itself up to the surface.