The toasty glow of the lamps made the beer look even more golden. Clinks of metal steins mingled with laughter and chatter. Now that Gaston had remained unseen since that afternoon, one of the blonde dames who usually followed him was now sitting next to Lefou. Usually, this would make Lefou smile. In fact, the atmosphere of the bar would usually make him smile.
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This time the bar had a decidedly muscular silhouette cut out of it.
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Lefou slammed his stein on the wooden table. The girl immediately receded, raising her arms to the level of her chest with her fingers curled in fear. After a second, she inched forward to prevent herself from falling off her stool, causing it to sway.
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‘What’s wrong, Lefou?’ she asked.
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If only Lefou knew.
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Ever since he had led Gaston to the perfect hunting spot a year ago, he had long asked himself what was wrong with him. Gaston had rewarded him with a pat on the head and a glowing smile that silently said thank you. Lefou was always drawn to the man’s confidence and self-focus. Yet there was something special about him doing something out of his usual character in a way that still fit him perfectly, something magical about his love of life painted on his face.
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The night following the end of that hunt, Lefou had considered drinking his sudden, inexplicable emotions away. What, was he destined to like men now? Was that his new calling? He had shifted his gaze to the women sitting next to Gaston and was entranced by their beauty. His eyes went back and forth between Gaston and his fangirls, confusion welling in his heart.
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He had opted to drink nothing out of fear of revealing his new secret. Naturally, Gaston hadn’t noticed.
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Now it was Lefou’s turn to ignore someone, the girl beside him whose beauty had faded not in appearance but in Lefou’s eye. Just as he lifted his stein to his lips, Maurice pushed through the doors.
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‘Gaston’s been captured!’
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Lefou’s ears perked up at that. Of all people, Gaston?
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‘Who did it?’ a man asked. Billy was a tall (not as tall as Gaston, of course) and scraggly man with an equally scraggly beard. He had two steins of beer on his table.
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Maurice, already panting from running, sped up his breathing. ‘A fearsome beast! He has the horns of a buffalo, the claws of a bear and the jaws of a wolf! He let me go in exchange for Gaston.’
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A feeling of intense hatred sparked within Lefou’s soul for a tiny moment. Maurice let Gaston be captured? Lefou’s precious Gaston? He took a sip and calmed his nerves.
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‘Ha, as if Gaston couldn’t have taken him on!’ Billy retorted, pulling up his pants to reveal a bite mark on his ankle.
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‘Yeah!’ shouted multiple people in an out-of-sync chorus.
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Maurice’s entire body trembled. ‘No, he was a terrifying, dangerous beast! No one could-’
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‘Let me guess, crazy old Maurice!’ Lefou responded, putting on his best Gaston impression. He slammed his stein again and crawled onto the top of the table. ‘He could fly and shoot fire from his mouth!’ He leapt off the table like he was about to fly himself. Befitting his name, his decision to do this resulted in his bulbous nose crashing into the floor. He rubbed it, stood up and brushed off the dust on his clothes like it was nothing.
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He was about to continue mocking Maurice when a memory whizzed through his brain. Gaston was riding on Maurice’s horse with no weapons at hand. After that, Lefou had taken all the weapons Gaston had left behind to his own house, glad to have pieces of the other man in his possession.
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Once the memory disappeared, Lefou shook his head. Couldn’t Gaston have used his fists? Still, the memory bugged him.
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Everyone laughed Maurice out of the bar and Lefou returned to his seat. He looked down at the beer still left in his stein, spotting his reflection. His chin was much weaker than Gaston’s. He angled his head towards his arm and saw how flabby and frail it was.
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If Gaston really was captured, Lefou would be able to do nothing. He grit his teeth, hopped off his chair and stormed out of the bar. He headed into the forest, stopping by a boulder around his size. He reached around it and put all his effort into picking it up. It didn’t budge an inch.
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Lefou slipped out of his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and picked up two less heavy but still weighty rocks the size of his palms. As he flexed his arms, their pain did little to dissuade the corners of his mouth from lifting to his cheeks.388Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbQSDyJDm2h
