#this is very selfishly motivated. i have not drawn anything really for myself in months now so. this was nice

[valcubust]

the casket is. decent.

[lotornomiko]

The Dark Flavor Of Addiction Chapter Six

3B cannon divergence with a heavy focus on a secret sexual relationship between Hook and Belle. Both devoted and swearing to love others, Hook and Belle both can't deny the irresistible passion and attraction they have for one another, leading to repeated secret trysts, hurt feelings, and a whole lot of jealousy. But what happens when feelings unravel completely,& secrets come out?

Captain Beauty Endgame...so not safe for work....

With an immensely frustrated sound escaping my lips, I slam the heavy book closed. Dust seems to rile up from it's ancient and weathered pages, the book and others like it, a mocking reminder of what I had promised to do. There's hours of research to be had, hours of searching that is made worse by the fact that I cannot concentrate. It doesn't matter the urgency of the situation, how time itself might be working against us all. I simply cannot focus, all my thoughts, all my energy consumed by HIM. By thoughts of Hook, and of our last encounter.

Haunted by it, by him, by the words spoken, I wonder if I have the strength to back up the words I had hissed when at my most furious. Somehow hours after the fact, when the worst of my anger has fled, I am left just tired and shaking, with nothing to warm me but the cold feeling of my regret. The feeling should be nothing new. I've often regretted my actions with Hook after the act is over. It, the lows that I have experienced, go hand in hand with the highs I've felt at his touch, that mad cap play of extremes, Hook making me run the gamut of feelings when with him and when not. I've been aroused, I've been desperate, I've been uncaring of the danger and damage done. Only to come crashing down, sick over what I've done, over what I've allowed to happen, my heart beating frantically, regret and self loathing coloring me, and each time I've not let it stop me from doing it again. Gladly and eagerly, something very much like joy filling my heart every time Hook stroked that needy itch inside of me.

It's not something I can claim to understand. Nor is it something I can truly excuse. I'm a different woman when I am with Hook, something inside me responding to that dangerous gleam in his eyes, to the threat of him and the threat of us that puts in jeopardy my future with Rumplestiltskin. Worse yet, there are times when I don't even care, too wrapped up in the feel of Hook to spare much if any thought as to what I am doing, who I will be hurting with my actions. That all changes soon after, the waves of doubt, dread and regrets hot on the heels of the receding pleasure that I have received.

The worst is that the self anger and loathing, the regrets, are never strong enough to get me to stop. Hook just has to look at me, that hungry, predatory gleam bringing me to split apart, that other secret me emerging, the one who lives for these moments. That other Belle is just as huge a part of me as my every day face is, that woman passionate and wild, selfishly needy, and undeniably attracted. Wanting and wanted, and not willing to share, that other me makes a mockery of my love and values, clinging to a man who would just as soon as hurt me as fuck me.

Not even the fact that Hook's done both, has been enough to get ME to stop. He's shot me, slapped me, threatened me on numerous occasion. He's never been exactly sorry, the man ruthless enough to do just about anything to get his revenge. He's driven and without much mercy, that side of him an eerie reflection of the man that I love. Hook and Rumplestiltskin are more alike than either would care to admit, both willing to do just about anything to achieve their own goals. I'm caught between them, drawn to danger, to the risk I place myself in by being with both of them.

Addicted to it just as much as to them, I wonder when-how I became such a junkie for such danger. Always a bit of a thrill seeker, that adventurous heart inside me had--is always craving for more. New highs, that ecstasy of adrenaline, that rush of exhilaration when being threatened. Only to spiral down into the lowest of lows, that sensible, rational part of me leaving me to feel ashamed. It's never been enough to get me to quit cold turkey, it's never been enough to get me to even TRY.

Until now. It's not self respect, and it's not self preservation. It's not even a sense of right and wrong. It's none of these things that give me the strength to now try. It's my own jealousy, that mad rush of fury that I had felt to realize that I was nothing more than a substitute for the woman Hook had truly wanted. Hearing Emma's name uttered on his lips, knowing he thought of HER while inside me? Something not easily fixed had broken inside me, that sickening mix of jealousy, anger, and the need to possess him consuming me whole.

With those potent feelings churning inside me, I had been warmed from the inside out with my rage. I had turned on him, absolutely furious, and made even more so by the fact Hook hadn't even realized just what he had done wrong. I hadn't taken the time to explain, more content to keep striking him with both my words and my slaps, my body shaking and made to feel dirty. In that one moment he had cheapened everything between us, and never had I felt more used than I did then, existing as just a shadow of the woman he had really wanted.

Not content to be her replacement, Emma's name had been the splash of cold water I had been needing. The motivating force to finally do the right thing, the sane thing, the only thing I could do. It's not something I can claim will be easy, having spent months-years with Hook on the sly. He knows how to work me, how to rile me up and render me weak and ready for his desires. I've never once tried to resist, but then I've never been as determined as I am now. It's for myself that I try to find the strength, because I won't be Emma's substitute, or Hook's plaything anymore.

I'm not thinking it will be easy, but neither am I prepared for just how determined Hook can be. I get my first taste of that determination when I hear the sounds of someone forcing their way into the pawn shop. It is a sound eerily similar to when Neal came crashing in earlier, and my face flushes a mortified red as I recall in vivid detail exactly what-who I had been doing at that precise moment. My body reacts to the memory, a shiver going through me as I force my legs to move. I propel myself to the front of the shop, and that's when I see him, see Hook. The front door is cracked open enough that he is trying to break the chain. I just stand there, not saying a word, not trying to help, and with a loud curse, the chain finally breaks under Hook's persistant onslaught.

He actually stumbles forward, then draws up short at the sight of me. I'm not sure what sort of expression I am wearing, but Hook frowns at it all the same.

"No need to look so disappointed, love." He says.

I react, that insincere endearment making me inwardly flinch. "I thought you might be...."

"Yes, I've no doubt you did." Hook interrupts. "But there's still been no sign of your crocodile." I frown at him for that, and start to ask Hook why he is here. I barely get out the words, Hook interrupting me to ask where Charming is.

"He's not here." I say, watching the puzzling way Hook reacts. "He left over an hour ago to help his wife with something."

"He LEFT you?!" It's almost a snarl, Hook propelling himself forward. He looks very angry, and I take an uncertain step back. "Alone? When that witch might very well be hunting you?"

"I managed fine on my own." The reassurance comes out defiant, my chin lifting stubbornly.

"You shouldn't have had too!" Hook growls. "I only agreed to stay at the hospital because Charming said he would stay with you!"

"It doesn't matter." I say, ignoring the way Hook sputters and growls. "It's not like you CARE."

I get the pleasure of seeing the shock register in his eyes, Hook looking as though my words had given him a very real slap to the face. And then I turn away, heading into the private rear of the shop. I hear the rustle and creak of the floorboards, Hook following close behind me. I busy myself with one of the many thick and ancient books, the pages turning with a rustle that sounds angry even to myself.

"Of course I...care." He finally says. I can hear the creak of something, a bookcase most likely, as Hook leans himself against it. "I wouldn't be HERE if I didn't."

I fight the snort his words arouse inside me, turning more pages, barely seeing the images and words printed on the paper. I'm no better at research now than I was earlier, but at least it gives me an excuse to not look at Hook.

"I'm sure Emma won't appreciate you leaving Neal."

"Emma fails to appreciate a lot of things where I am concerned." His reply makes my eyes widen slightly, and before I can stop myself, I am wondering about what that means. The angry rustle of paper increases, and this time it's myself that I find fault with, for daring to be curious in even the slightest towards Hook and his situation with Emma.

"And Neal?" I say to distract us both from my reaction. "Is he still at the hospital?"

"No, he's long gone." Hook answers. "Probably off traipsing the woods with Emma somewhere."

"While you're stuck here with me."

"It's a choice I made." He insists. "I'm where I want to be."

"Now that I find hard to believe." I mutter it softly, and yet he still hears it, the creak of the bookcase sounding as Hook pushes away from it.

"Why is that, love?" He asks, and I try not to stiffen at his approach. I'm more aware of Hook behind me, than the book in front of me, my breath starting to slow in my chest. "Hmm?" He's gotten too close, his breath stirring strands of my hair. The pages of the book before me turn faster, any pretense at reading them lost to the nervous play of my hands.

I maintain my show of silence, trying not to shake when his hand covers and stops mine. The pages settle with a quiet rustle, the only sound in the shop that of our soft breathing and the tick tock of the clocks.

Hook's presence, his nearness hits me then, a sizzling awareness sparking through me. He's too close, the pleasant clean scent of him filling me with every breath that I take. The warmth of his hand, that light but possessive touch causes my skin to react, tiny pin point bumps prickling along the length of my arm. It's not wholly unpleasant, and yet I want to rub that feeling away, stamp it and the affect that he has on me into the ground.

I let out a shaky breath, and stare sullenly down at his hand on top of mine. "I don't have time for this."

"This?" He questions in my ear, his warm breath caressing over the curve of it. I abruptly jerk away, putting distance between us. The self satisfied smile he gives me in response makes something in my belly flip, and it's a storm bitter look that I give him.

"People are counting on me." I say. "The research I do here could prove invaluable..." I shake my head, and grab at a different book on the table. "I simply don't have the luxury of soothing your hurt feelings. No matter how badly Emma has hurt you this time."

I quickly look down at the book, busy myself with it's pages as Hook lets out a hiss of breath. "Emma? She's done nothing that..."

"Oh don't lie to me Hook. Not about this." I quickly interrupt. never taking my eyes off the pages of the book. "You and I both know how it usually plays out. She says or does something that you don't like, she hurts your feelings with her concern over Neal, drives you mad with jealousy, makes you seethe with the fact she is in love with another." I'm glaring at the book now as I speak, my voice a clipped tone meant to hide the feelings behind my words.

"It-SHE doesn't have anything to do with..."

"She has everything to do with this!" My voice snaps out forcefully, my agitated passion coloring that exclamation. Immediately I feel the heat warm my face, a mortified blush spreading across my skin. It's made all the worst when after a shocked pause, Hook laughs. An honest to goodness chuckle, his amusement heavy in that sound.

"You're jealous." He says, and Hook sounds all too satisfied and certain of that.

"Don't be ridiculous." I immediately retort. But I can't look at him, can't bring myself to so much as glare in his direction. "Why would I....?"

"You are." He insists, still sounding so smug and satisfied. "You shouldn't be."

"Oh?" It escapes me before I can bite down on my lip, my hands shaking as I hear Hook move. I take a step back, and then another, bumping into a knick knack lined shelf behind me. It's then that I look up, taken aback by the seriousness of his gaze. He maintains that look a second longer, then breaks it with a smirk, openly laughing at me. My heated cheeks warm further, my eyes narrowing into a severe gaze.

"Stop teasing me like this."

"Oh, love. I haven't begun to start teasing you." More smugness from him at the shiver that I am unable to repress.

"You're in too good a mood for someone whose heart has been trampled." I finally mutter and look away. But not before I catch the sobering look in his eyes.

"Aye it's been trampled, but it's been that way for a while now." admits Hook. "I've just been too stubborn to want to admit it. To you, to myself, to anyone."

"What changed?" I inquire, making a half hearted show of rifling through the book.

"Kind of hard to keep lying to oneself when the truth is right there in front of one's eyes." He sighs then. "She loves HIM. And that's never going to change."

I can't bring myself to express my sorries for what-WHO he has lost. I frown at myself, for the uncharitable thoughts that I have, for my own feeling of smugness, that need to possess him making me glad that SHE doesn't have him. Not anymore. But then neither do I, not in any meaningful way, and I try to squash down the rest of such thoughts before I lead myself to more trouble.

"If it's true, you can't change the heart." I mutter instead, a line from an old tome that has proven to be fact time and time again. Out the corner of my eye, I note the bob of Hook's head, the man actually agreeing with me.

"So now what?" I ask, curious despite all my intentions.

"Now?" He echoes, and I look up in time to catch that odd smile on his face. "I suppose I am now free to pursue other...avenues of interest."

"How..." I hesitate. "NICE for you."

"Not just for me." He grins at me in the way that sets me off shaking, things deep inside me clenching in reaction. I instantly busy myself with the book, my trembling fingers fumbling badly with the pages. I don't know what I am expecting him to say next, what I am secretly hoping for, but Hook doesn't follow that line of thought out loud. Instead he leans over the table, opening one of the many books there, to stare down at a random page. I am torn between disappointment and a sigh of relief, still unable to pay attention to the words before me in the book. Minutes pass like this, until Hook, his tone all too casual, breaks the silence.

"Do you ever wonder about the year that you can't remember?"

"All the time." I truthfully answer. "But then, don't we all?" I eye him now, remembering Hook is just about the only person in Storybrooke to not be suffering under the spell of the witch.

"Why don't you ever talk about it?" I ask.

"Some things should remain buried." He tells me, carefully paging through the book.

"But not a whole town's worth of memories!" I protest.

"It's not the town I am concerned with." He mutters.

"Why? What did you do?" He looks up at me now, Hook's smile a coy expression of some inner amusement.

"So sure it's me that I am protecting?"

I blink slowly, then shake my head. "What? What are you getting at?"

"Are you sure you really want to know?" Hook asks me, pushing the book that he was browsing aside. "Because once that box is open, you may find it hard to shut it close again."

"I..." For one beat I hesitate, made so uncertain by his weak attempt at a warning. "I want---NEED to know. It might be important."

"You have no idea." He mutters it so soft and quickly, and in response I make a quizzical sound of his name.

"Hook?"

He locks eyes with me then, the dark blue of them so serious, with an undercurrent of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. There's a hint of a smile or smirk curving at the corners of that sensual mouth of his, and it's clear he's about to relish whatever it is that Hook intends to tell me. I feel the uncertainty beat at my chest, my heart fluttering on a tremulous beat, the words to stop Hook frozen in my throat. There's a morbid need to know, to find out what secret could be so bad that even Hook would try to protect me from it.

"That year you can't remember...? You spent most of it with ME."

The shock hits me like a fist, my lips parting on a soft gasp. I stand there staring at him, and feel the heavy book slip out of my hands. It just misses my foot, thumping hard against the floor boards. I don't even react to that near miss, so busy staring at Hook. He grins at me, that amused light back in his eyes, the pirate leaning nonchalantly against the table while I gape and gasp at him.

"You're..."

"Lying?" Hook interrupts. "To what end would THAT serve?"

I can't think, I can't muster up a suitable retort. I can only stand there in total shock, wide eyed and staring at Hook as though the pirate has sprouted a second head. He maintains that cold amusement, watching me with a hooded gaze. There's a dozen half formed accusations fluttering about my thoughts, and not all of them are directed towards Hook. I want to scream and shout, maybe break down and cry. Through it all I think of my love, my so called feelings for Rumplestiltskin, and just how deeply I've betrayed him. I wonder if I ever even took the time to grieve him, and I wonder at just what I've become, the kind of woman I now am. Whoever she is, I don't like, and she leaves me wondering how much farther a woman like her—like ME, can sink.