A/N: Here's some Rumbelle for you guys! Let me know what you think! Also, Gary is Gaston by the way. I figured it'd be obvious, but you never know.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Gare! I'm in the living room."

"I bought you a little surprise!"

"What is it?"

"Come and see!"

Half exasperated by the calling across the house – she hated excessive loudness – and half curious, Belle left the unfolded laundry and trudged across the house to see whatever unprecedented gift her husband brought home for her.

"Ta-dah!" he said grandly.

"Bacardi Gold?" she puzzled, carefully picking up one of the multitude of bottles. "Gary, what is this?"

"It's rum," he stated, clearly proud of himself.

She paused, turning the bottle in her hands and letting the gold liquid within catch the last rays of the setting sun. The entire bottle gleamed and cast a warm glow on the tiled kitchen floor. The color reminded her of soft fabric, warmth. Shimmering thread woven into a grand cloak for her by adept, gray hands.

"I'm missing something." She had never considered herself a big alcohol drinker. Sure, she would take a glass of wine with dinner occasionally or sneak a shot whenever Gary became too handsy or obnoxious, but did that warrant a gift of strong liquor?

"It's rum," he repeated, as if she were an unintelligent child. Belle shook her head to signal she was no closer to figuring it out. Gary sighed.

"For weeks now you've been dreaming about it, ever since you bought that god-awful cabinet at that run-down pawn shop. I figured you could put these," he gestured to the liquor bottles, "in there. Make that stupid piece of wood worth something. That is why you bought it, right?"

The cabinet was meant to hide away her trinkets – her books and her mother's jewelry – in a place where they would be safe from Gary's rough touch and ever-present insults. Belle had fallen in love with the cabinet; it possessed hidden charm and a sense of safety. She felt what few physical memories she still held from her old life with her father and her sweet mother would be protected from Gary's teasing behind those small, wooden doors. And Mr. Gold had been so kind to her when she purchased it…

"I dreamed about rum?" she questioned, her own voice breaking her out of her reverie.

"Yeah, you wouldn't shut up in your sleep. Kept saying, 'My rum… Rum… I need you, rum!'"

The words made no sense and held no specific memory. But, when coupled with the radiant glow emanating from the bottle, heart-wrenching emotions burst forth: desire, hope, anger, sadness, emptiness. And love. Love prickled at her hairline and plummeted to her toes, seeking every crevice and corner to fill. Slightly ashamed was she who felt more in five minutes of gazing at a bottle than years of observing her husband. Even more ashamed she became upon the realization that this was no new sensation; she had felt this way before with another. One that she had been forced to let go of. Or was it he that was forced to let go of her? Her mind grew fuzzy and a dull pain began to throb in her temples. Overwhelming tears formed in her eyes.

"What? Is it the wrong brand?" Gary asked, deflated.

"Yes," she said, not taking her eyes of the gold bottle, even when she set it on the counter. Even when she was desperate to get away from her husband. "Wrong rum."

A/N: What do you think? I'm actually kind of proud of this one. I really liked writing it. Please review. It takes two seconds and makes me happier for a lot longer!