Anna pushed herself to sit up and she stared at him. “Well, that’s not very smart.” She was starting to feel ill and even worse than before. “And I doubt your leg is broken. It’s probs just bruised or something, just a little bump don’t be such a baby.”
She rubbed her eyes and hesitantly rolled his pant bottom up to inspect his injury. She pressed down in a few places, “does this hurt? This? How about this?” She tried no to look. “It is pretty bruised and very gross.”
Shock, pure shock. Gaston’s mouth was closed tight. As she poked around on his damaged limb the thought of her touching him nearly caused him to vomit. She was quick too, as though she had done this before. She was careful and precise, he hadn’t even noticed that she pulled his pant leg up. The icy cold touch of her boney fingers made him realize what he needed to do. Firstly, he had to somehow get to his feet and secondly, she had to leave. She had initiated all contact that night and he was done with it. He staggered to his feet. “Anna, you can’t just touch people like that.” he said. “Didn’t they teach you that in that place you came from? I seriously suggest you leave or I’ll tell them you’ve been up to no good. I will call you a taxi or something but you need to leave immediately” he admitted.
Her eyes tried to focus on him as he told her to sit on the floor and right away she somewhat did except she lay down the fetal position, nearly in tears. “I think I’m dying,” she breathed. “But thank you.”
It seemed like a very long time before she heard the small crash. Startled, she perked right up and stood, looking around not truly looking well, not at the floor. “Gaston?” she breathed, walking throughout the room until her foot caught on his ankle, which made her tumble to the ground as well. “Oww, what did you did that for? Why are you on the ground? I thought you were getting me pillows,” she whined.
He dragged his hand across his face. “See, I was on my way to get you pillows until I thought ‘Hey why not just trip and nearly break my neck’ you know, for kicks and giggles” he scoffed. The pain was throbbing throughout his leg. “Please go back you to your side of the floor, I need to reevaluate my life and try and figure out how I ended up drunk on my own floor, with an employee, with a broken leg.” he pleaded. It was a very compromising position. How could he let himself get into this mess. Gaston made sure no woman would ever get the best of him but the fiery little mammal was making the great hunter look like an idiot.
Anna’s entire body shook, she didn’t understand what he meant by stay. “Here?” she asked, wobbling over to him. “Yeah, i need to stay here until I feel better. I didn’t know what was in that juice. it was good, though. I have, like, uh, four maybe glasses.”
She needed to sit, she needed to lay down. “Gaston, please. I’m really not feeling well. I don’t want to go back to the asylum. I’ll do anything.”
"Fine! Fine! Fine!" he yelled "Stay here until aren’t drunk". It was almost morning and he had enough of her bickering. Her supposed drunkenness was starting to bore him. The idea of her staying one more minute in his Mansion repulsed him. It was as if her desperation knew no bounds. Gaston took a very deep breath and let out a long sigh, It was almost comical. Like a deflating ball, he wanted it to be apparent that not only had he not consented to her occupation but resented her entirety at the moment. After finishing his long sigh he pointed to his staircase. "I’m going to go over there to grab you some pillows" he said "You stay here and wait but, you can sit on the floor or something, I don’t want you to ruin my couches." His finger moved across the room from the staircase to his floor. Almost as if to tell the drunk red headed puppy to sit and stay.
He turned his back to her and began his expedition to his upper room. It was a simple plan really. Grab some pillows and let her sleep off her alcohol buzz. “She might even clean my house in the morning” he thought to himself. It was then the corner of his table unexpectedly collided with his shin. The sound of the collision reverberated throughout the house. He stumbled trying maintain his balance but it was impossible. He meet the ground with a substantial force. This time, his sigh was even louder and longer than before.
Immediately, she didn’t like this man. He reminded her of Hans aged several years, oozing arrogance. She fought down her nerves, a hand coming up to toy with her braid. “Because sometimes the worlds they hold are wonderful enough to own,” Elsa tried to explain as simply as possible.
"Worlds a crazy person imagines?" he rattled off. Reading was clearly not his idea of good time. Gaston could only believe in a reality which he could physical touch. To call him a doubter would be an understatement. He once watched snow falling, while sitting inside his room as a child and still did not believe that it was cold outside. Some called this stupidity but to Gaston, putting trust in something he could not touch was true stupidity. He constantly checked his seats before sitting down and his footing before he taking his next step. Illiteracy did not define him but he definitely had a difficult time reading and writing. Maybe if someone actually had taken the time to teach him when he was younger, it would have been another thing he could boast in.
His eyes began to become red. He felt the pressure building. It wouldn’t be long before the figurative Mount Vesuvius was going to explode. ”Look lady, you seem nice and I’d love to buy one of these paper weights made out of paper for my paper but, I honestly came in to use the restroom” he admitted. “I swear I’ll buy a copy of anything if you point me to the Whiz Palace.” he continued.
Setting aside the stack of books, she quickly went around the shelves to see a man there, clearly in pain. “A book store,” she said carefully, confused as to what kind of person didn’t know what one was. “Are you all right, sir?” Elsa politely inquired. If he needed aid, she would try her hardest to assist him, but she didn’t really want him to vomit all over the store. That would be the opposite of a good first day.
Books are for babes he thought to himself. “People pay for books?” he inquired. Gaston knew what a library was, he knew what books were but the notion that people would actually buy books was a concept his mind could not comprehend. To Gaston, the only people who bought books were those who needed to seem more intelligent than everyone around them. "Oh look, I’ve read this book 30 times" he mentally mimicked her as he asked “Why buy books if you can rent them for like, um, free?” He continued to squirm as he looked for the opportune time to ask about the restroom situation.
Verona actually drove right by work that afternoon. She didn’t care. She was the boss, owner, proprietor, head stylist. She deserved to miss as much as she wanted to. Verona intended to go to work after this though. She knew she had to. But first…………
Ahhh, there it was. The place of the best first date -well ONLY, but still… Verona’d heard they could be horrible- she’d ever had. The Hunter’s Lounge. What did she want though? Drink? Burger? She’d decide when she got in.
She walked in and took in the sight. Wow. It was different in the daytime. But not a bad different. She strode over to the bar and once again, finagled a few things on her PDA. She felt someone come over to her and heard something that sounded like a question.
"Sorry….. what?" She asked, looking up. She didn’t want to answer with her order just in case that wasn’t what they’d asked.
Was it his birthday? How can so many jaw dropping women live in this small town? It most certainly must be his birthday because someone like her doesn’t stroll into his Lounge during the day. Someone must have answered his birthday wish. He called his waitresses off and ordered them to go clean the bathrooms. Gaston grabbed a menu and quickly made his way over to the enticing woman.
“Bonjour, jolie femme, Can I get you something to drink?” he asked. The strange woman blatantly ignored his question. Had she not seen the pictures and on the walls? Most people would at least acknowledge his words, given that he was in fact the owner of the Hunter’s Lounge. He made a fist and put it in front of his mouth *cough*. "Sorry….. what?" the unnamed lady responded. “Um…drink?” he exclaimed.
Elsa stood nervously in the corner of Nevertales, taking in the shop. She’d been told she could have another day or two to adjust to life before starting work, but she’d come in anyways. She didn’t have anything better to do, and she wanted to learn how things worked in there before the weekly rush started. Was there even a weekly rush?
She finally made herself stop staring at the store, and instead began to familiarise herself with the organisation of the store and which shelves were which. In the travel section, however, she found herself distracted, finding a book on Norway and flipping through just to see images of home. That was when she heard the little bell on the door go off, and in her haste to get to the potential customer, she shoved the book back, only to knock it and a few of its surrounding books into a domino line, cascading down the shelf. “Be right with you,” she called, trying to correct the mess quickly.
"Stupid rabbit" he muttered as he quickly scurried looking for relief. His stomach was ready to explode. The pain was so immense, it was almost crippling. The rabbit didn’t look healthy when he caught it and it didn’t get any better when he was cooking it. It was like the dead animal was taking revenge on his bowels. There was no way he was going to make it to the Hunter’s Lounge before…well…
Gaston opened the door as gently as he could. It would cause to much suspicion if he rushed into the strange building and yelled for the nearest hole to defecate. Looking around for someone, he heard a lady chime in and say something which was undistinguished because she was busy throwing the decoration pieces around. His fists were clinched and sweat began to trickle down his face. “What is this” he asked “some kind of grocery store for paper?”
Snow hadn’t realised that Gaston had been so nearby until he spoke, causing her to jump slightly. She continued to clean the tables, however, not even looking up when he made the man who had been hassling her leave. She was grateful though.
When he directly spoke to her, she finally lifted her head. “What? Um… No, no, I’ll be here tomorrow.” Snow wasn’t sure how these things worked, but she was sure that it wouldn’t look too good on her in the eyes of the asylum staff if she left her job so quickly.
It was a curious thing, to see a frail mind struggle with confidence. She was so highly recommended by the asylum and yet, Snow was still becoming acclimated to life with normal people. To Gaston however, sticking her in a position full of inebriated men seemed counter-productive to her rehabilitation process. He guessed the immersion therapy she had voluntarily signed up for, was a means for conquering her fear of men. The concept of subduing your fears by facing them head on was an idea so foreign to Gaston, since fear nothing to the burly brute.
"If anyone ever talks to you like that again, you let me know, okay? I’ll make sure they leave here on a stretcher" Gaston confessed.
Guy, seriously? ”I think I’ll pass.” Hans replied flatly, turning up his nose at Gaston’s offering. “Save it for someone who will truly appreciate it.” If he was forced to continue interacting with Gaston for much longer he was sure to lose his temper. There was something about the brute that rubbed him the wrong way and it was obvious that the other man knew exactly which buttons to push in order to get a rise out of him. What had Hans done to get on the man’s bad side? Surely he wasn’t still holding a grudge over what had happened at the Hunter’s Lounge the morning they’d first met. Would it be best if he swallowed his pride and apologized for laughing at Gaston’s pathetic attempt at humor? Would the other man even accept an offer to bury the hatchet? It didn’t seem likely.
Hans parted his lips to respond to Gaston’s question, but before he could get a word in edgewise the man interrupted him with his absurd comment and he ended up bursting with laughter instead. It was one of the only times he’d ever really laughed since he arrived in Grimmsvale. He threw his head back and held his side as if the other man had just told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “I spend more time alone then you’d think.” He replied, still gasping for breath as sporadic chuckles slipped from between his lips. “But even if I were here with someone it certainly wouldn’t be her. She and I despise each other.” He said with an exasperated sigh and a roll of his green eyes, as if being forced to mention the pesky little redhead was extremely exhausting for him.
"But, she talks about your butt all the time, you butt!" Gaston responded, "I just figured there was something there, but, I guess I was wrong…butt." It was evident by the way he laughed there had been something there. It was like a 3rd grader with a crush who was confronted by another classmate. The 3rd grader was sure to laugh and fiercely deny any assertions. Why was it such a funny subject if there was nothing still between them? As if laughing was a way to distract Gaston from the truth. It was probably a way to mask his true feelings for the red headed siren.
"If it was me, I would go after that exquisite specimen known to us mortals as Snow. She is truly an angel. That was the reason I hired her you know, great to look at." Gastons added. "You should come to the Lounge some time" he insisted "maybe we could leave the bad blood at the door, and admire the scenery, friend,"