"Oh. Okay," she let out a nervous, laughing noise, keeping hold of him as they made their way to her flat, just holding back I just worry about you. He'd never understand that, how even in her cell she'd worried about how he was, all alone. How she'd risen to his defense automatically when Hook had come that one night, even when turning against him would have meant her freedom. Defending him against slurs and so much worse had been worth every minute in that tower.
Well, perhaps not quite so much, but it was worth quite a lot.
Belle didn't consider herself a particularly anxious type, certianly not the sort to get worked into a tizzy over some boy like other ladies. But Rumple wasn't just a boy, nor any man. He mattered, in a way no one else had, and that made her fingers forget themselves as she fumbled the door open and her face flush when she got it and remembered the state of the place. It wasn't messy, per se, but it was clear she'd been living alone all this time and that most her hours had been occupied with reading. There were a few notebooks, too, scribbled with notes she'd taken while talking to Ramses or just walking around the island.
"If I'd known--I would've tidied up a bit," she said, suddenly feeling the difference in their age, like she was just some silly girl bringing a man home and having no real idea what she was doing.