Anything zootopia! Something romantic maybe? What do Belle and Gold order when they go out to eat?
It was raining, which always played hell on his limp. But where before he’d absolutely loathed rainy days now he didn’t mind them much. Belle, of course, was the reason for such a change of heart. Like he’d expected she was at his house when he got home, already out of her usual work clothes and dressed in one of his old shirts and a pair of leggings for comfort. He enjoyed it immensely, seeing her make herself at home in his domain, with clothes that smelled faintly of him, of them. She greeted him with an enthusiastic and thorough kiss and helped him out of his coat and jacket, fussing in such a particular manner that he did not find it annoying but rather welcomed.
Soon she had him on his shirtsleeves and relaxing on the couch, painkillers dutifully taken and a heating pad right over his damaged ankle. She put on Netflix so they could continue watching the documentary series they were in the middle of and only paused twice, once to get them some iced tea and the second time when the delivery boy of Balna, their favourite Indian restaurant. She would always order samosas and naan bread for both, vegetarian biryani for herself and Bengal chingri for him, extra spicy.
She artfully spread their food around, and whereas before, at the beginning, he’d have felt compelled to stand up and help in spite of his leg, he did not feel such an impulse now. He knew Belle appreciated that he felt comfortable enough to be pampered a bit when in pain, something he strove to usually keep hidden from others. Weakness meant death, it was ingrained in him on a deep, primal level. But with Belle he no longer felt the need to pretend, to protect himself.
Afterwards, with his belly full and the pain receding he let himself sink into the softness of the sofa cushions, his head on Belle’s thighs. She’d chucked the tights immediately after the food had arrived so he felt every bit of the softness of her coat against the back of his neck and head. She petted his mane in slow, rhythmic strokes that made it heart to stay awake, but it was no matter. When Belle felt like it she’d turn the TV off, nudge him awake and guide him to the bedroom, where she’d help him strip down to his undershirt and boxers and crawl into bed. She’d wrap herself around him afterwards, and if the rain was still falling they’d listen to it for a while before falling asleep.
Rainy days, all in all, were perfect.