Post by Deleted on Oct 30, 2014 11:43:42 GMT -5
He was trying, he really was.
But trying to act the part of a humble husband was not something in Rumple's nature. Still, he was doing it for Belle. After Bae, she was the one and only light in his life, and there was very little he would not do for her. Well, the dagger was a different story of course. But that was a minor detain in his mind.
So here he was, the "Dark One" that most people ran away in fear from, standing in front of a sink wearing an apron and trying to figure out what to do with the dishes in the sink in front of him. Belle had left a few hours before...something about running a few errands before having lunch with Emma, and had asked him to do a few light chores around the house. He had told her he would, he could not deny her anything, but looking back now, he wished he had tried to get out of it somehow.
Over three hundred years old, and he had never touched a dishrag before. Sighing, he picked up the rag and looked at it distainfully for a few moments before flinging it across the kitchen in disgust. There was the right way to do things, and there was HIS way. Turning back to the sink, he flicked his fingers at the offending dishes and watched with satisfaction as they started to wash themselves. There, she would never know.
Ripping off the apron he made his way out of the room. He had work to do that that had nothing to do with mundane chores. He had REAL work to do.
Belle would never know.
But trying to act the part of a humble husband was not something in Rumple's nature. Still, he was doing it for Belle. After Bae, she was the one and only light in his life, and there was very little he would not do for her. Well, the dagger was a different story of course. But that was a minor detain in his mind.
So here he was, the "Dark One" that most people ran away in fear from, standing in front of a sink wearing an apron and trying to figure out what to do with the dishes in the sink in front of him. Belle had left a few hours before...something about running a few errands before having lunch with Emma, and had asked him to do a few light chores around the house. He had told her he would, he could not deny her anything, but looking back now, he wished he had tried to get out of it somehow.
Over three hundred years old, and he had never touched a dishrag before. Sighing, he picked up the rag and looked at it distainfully for a few moments before flinging it across the kitchen in disgust. There was the right way to do things, and there was HIS way. Turning back to the sink, he flicked his fingers at the offending dishes and watched with satisfaction as they started to wash themselves. There, she would never know.
Ripping off the apron he made his way out of the room. He had work to do that that had nothing to do with mundane chores. He had REAL work to do.
Belle would never know.