A Dance Unlikely

~ Stanfou ~

Lefou spun several ladies around his fingers; they stayed for a few moments, then twisted off into an abyss of twirling mindlessness.

How is it to dance with someone and think nothing of it? he wondered with a melancholy gleam in his eyes–with a choking bird in his heart, desiring to escape.

He had danced many a time with him. Lefou did not want to mention his name anymore; no one did.

But he could not forget him. How is it that everyone else's minds seemed to be pierced with an arrow of absent-mindedness? The image of him–the flawless, glittering portrait of a god, like the striking statues of old–it never desired to flee his mind. His swarthy features: the stubble that traced his prominent jaw, the wrinkles that crossed his forehead when he delved into his debonair simper, the clear, pristine orbs–golden and burnt from endless days in the sun.

When one of his fellow members from the military had informed him of his fall, Lefou locked the godly portrait in his mind. He attempted memorizing his tantalizing touch–how well Lefou's minuscule hand had fit in his impressive one.

Touch.

He felt it: soft, pleasurable fingers suddenly intertwining with his, like grapevines running up the sides of an orchard's entrance gate. Lefou recognized the intense sense from somewhere, but what woman had he recently–

Stanley.

He recalled the man who had comforted him during his time of grief: the only person who seemed to remember the god.

And then the bird flew from Lefou's chest as he glanced into the lovely man's eyes, his expression wooden and inscrutable. The haughty picture he had memorized instantaneously melted away, revealing a sunset of scarlet and gold.

Something crumpled Lefou's abdomen, crushing and transforming it; the tight knot of his stomach grew and extended to the rest of his body as he turned away from his partner in dance.

What could that have been? he wondered. The knot continued to form, spreading like wildfire and burning his insides. As it did, Lefou reminisced all the times Stanley had looked at him, comprehending his thoughts–understanding his senseless desires.

Lefou knew he could not get carried away; he could not run around and fight for love. He realized the mistake he had made before. This time it would be different–he was sure of it.

The fingers of other ladies lightly embraced his for several moments at a time, but nothing compared to Stanley's. A dance unlikely indeed.


A/N: I've never written for anything other than Belle/Beast in my life so this was very different and fun. :) Feel free to request. I have an original novel as well based off the original BATB fairytale on my published page. Don't forget to follow my Tumblr raph-fangirl for plenty of Beauty and the Beast and classic Disney/Broadway/literature posts!