POOR
Gaston looked in the mirror one more time, marveling at the sight that stretched out on its surface. The white shirt clung tightly to his body, accentuating every perfectly sculpted muscle. The blue eyes, surrounded by the brown rim, seemed to be even more turquoise, thanks to the loose brown jacket, decorated with burgundy elements. Gaston grinned at his reflection, admiring how his teeth glistened with a pearly glow in the morning sun. Definitely, it was a sight he would never be tired of. Gaston ran his hand through his onyx-black hair, proudly gasping. He was unable to take his eyes off the wonderful hero who was beaming at him from the mirror. The word ‘perfect’ could not even half describe his breathtaking stature. “Nobody deserves you, Gaston,” he whispered to himself as he turned around on the heels of his massive black boots. In front of him was a corridor, unusually beautiful, tastefully decorated, but exuding with the splendor of gold and ruby that appeared from time to time on tall marble walls. The hall was long, but Gaston overcame it with almost three dashing strides. Theatrically, he opened the door at its end and left his villa, immediately meeting the screams and moans of his fans.
Bathed in sunlight, he looked even more magnificent. He enjoyed every second of this ‘show’, savoring every compliment thrown at him as he did every day. “Gaston, you are wonderful!”. “Gaston, why do you have to be with Belle?”. “Gaston, I adore you anyway, and I will always love you!” — were just a few examples. Gaston did not seem to heed those words of recognition. He walked proudly on the route delineated by the crowd, and with his jaw rose high, he let himself be admired in his best appearance. Sometimes, the man reacted to the cries of beautiful ladies with a smile or with a wink. That was enough for the women to pass out at his feet and kiss the ground he stomped on. Such a small and meaningless gesture on Gaston’s part was something spectacular to them. An event they will later tell their friends about, hearing jealous snorts as a response. Ah, how Gaston loved those mornings. With a confident smile on his firm features, he said goodbye to a group of admirers. They were too delighted with his divinity to realize that they should have followed him.
“LeFou, it’s unimaginable!” he cried dramatically with his chocolate baritone. “Christmas is going to happen soon, and I still don’t know what I should give to Belle. This woman is so hard to read. It must be because of those books. We hardly ever talk because she seems to be distracted by them.” He frowned and tightened his jaw, slowly shaking his head. Gaston didn’t just want to give Belle anything. It would be humiliating. His gift had to be something grand and breathtaking. Something that everyone would talk about for the next months! He was contemplating his every idea… but none of them seemed to be good enough. For instance, getting her another novel would be suicidal. He turned his gaze onto his chubby friend. LeFou and Gaston have been companions since childhood, and after their first meeting, LeFou has always been by his side. They met in the city center almost every day (as long as Gaston didn’t have to do his celebrity tasks). They were usually talking about Gaston’s problems, about Gaston’s new plans, about Gaston’s next acting endeavors, and… about Gaston himself. And Gaston saw absolutely nothing wrong with that. He loved their little habit and wouldn’t have traded it for anything else.
Gaston sighed in a desperate and tense tone. He sincerely hoped that his heartfelt companion would give him a piece of advice, even though… the great Gaston needed no help! It was not his fault that Belle was so… secretive. She should be grateful that she has such an amazing husband that he is, and she should not… - he spat on the pavement with disgust. “So, any ideas, Lefou?” he asked.
@angelic ~ Bellerose LeGume ~ mentioned
@Littlefeets ~ Marcel LeFou
Sorry for any mistakes! Please, tell me if I need to change something!