Despite their words and reassurances, his doubts and suspicions coupled with her own determination, this walk was strangely silent all the way to the 'apartments' that he was to live in. No matter how the calm jarred the imp, not a sliver of courage remained left; only the scaled husk of the coward that he'd lived with for so long. Momentarily, his eyes drifted away from the bouncing curls and...lovely form and turned over to the variety of doors beside him. Each and everyone bore a number, all painted in the same monotonous blue as the rest. His brow cocked once more at the sight. Was this truly a residence where so many lived in? Or a prison? Not even at the poorest of inns had he seen such...blandness. As if the color, the very life of the place, was sapped.
His fists slightly clenched. The longer he stayed in this town, the more he found to dislike.
Soon enough, however, Belle stopped before, seemingly, his own door. Glancing momentarily at the number, the imp peered inside as the door creaked open. And...what could he say. Everything, at the very least, was tidy. He could spot only what he determined to be a kitchen near by, its surface and items all blindingly white amidst even blander walls. A sitting area was connected, completely with a long, lumpy chaise and a...strange black box on top of an even smaller one. As he looked about, he saw a few other doors, no doubt leading to bedchambers and, well, a chamberpots. All in all...it was adequate, considering the usual accommodations one found throughout the Enchanted Forest. Needless to say, however, the Council's association darkened the stainless white surfaces and the blue rug...
"I'm doubtful of that..." Without another word, the imp stepped in, gracefully spinning on his heel. "Now, I do believe we've more important matters to speak of." Soft, dark eyes held her gaze as Rumpelstiltskin took a seat on this far too lumpy sofa. "What is it that you wished to explain to me more, Belle?"