"Appearance is such a burden, you know," she continued frustratedly, when her companion didn't comment. "People expect me to be so good, because I happen to look good. Even though inside I'm just as rotten as they are."
Beast grunted. He did not have much to say about this topic, mostly because he was not very confident when it came to appearance or talking about it, and also because he quite agreed with Beauty, at least about the remark about her being rotten. He did not feel very rotten himself, but was quite sure that Beauty's theory did not work backwards, so that ugly people were not rotten.
"Couldn't you use a bit of your magic to make me uglier? Maybe I could be a beast like you, just not quite as scary. I don't want to scare everyone off, only most of the people who circle around me," Beauty babbled on, and took a glance at the direction in which Beast stood.
Beast slowly came forward from the shadows he had withdrawn to during the conversation. Why did Beauty still bother him with such silly things? he thought tiredly. Didn't she know that he wasn't hurt by her words anymore?
"You know as well as I that I don't control the magic of this house. If you have any complaints, you can go speak to the evil sorceress who cursed us," he said, trying to sound patient, "although I highly doubt she'll receive you at this time of the evening."
Beauty did not see the joke, and only sighed dramatically and turned back to the window. Beast retreated back to his pleasant spot in the corner where shadows covered his deformed face.
He looked out of the window. Beauty had once been a beauty to look at, but these days he preferred the view of the unruly, weed-filled garden.
"Well, I must go dress for dinner," Beauty said with make-believe reluctance. She got up slowly, her eyes lingering in the view of the garden. "I cannot appear before the guests in such a dreadful rag. And my hair lies so flat, as if I just hadn't washed it!" She started to go for the door, all the while having a look of smelling sour milk on her face.
Beast thought about whether to say something. If he was quiet, she might just leave him alone. His mouth was quicker than his brain.
"You know we could always call off the dinner party," he said, appearing uninterested in the whole topic.
"Don't be silly, they've already been invited," Beauty scoffed.
"Only for tonight. You needn't invite them again, if you don't like them."
Please, say you won't, he thought wearily. He was so tired of playing the host, pretending that he did not notice the way the guests avoided looking at him, and smiling his crooked grin when Beauty made a funny remark about the way he looked. He was so tired of it all.
"But then they will stop inviting us," she insisted. "Of course I must invite them." Now she had turned to actually look at Beast, which she did so rarely that it seemed somehow wrong.
"Do you think I want to spend all my time in this cursed house of yours? You never take me anywhere! Those dinner parties are all we go to."
Dinner parties were the events of hell that Beast was required to attend at least once a week, when Beauty did not think his excuse of being sick convincing enough.
"You may go to any dinner party you desire," he said, snarling, "only I won't come with you." If he used the right tone and glared enough, perhaps she would be frightened enough to just leave him alone.
"And how will that look, me, a young woman arriving alone?" Beauty exclaimed, and Beast was almost sure he detected real hate in her eyes.
"Dashing, I'm sure," Beast said, and turned back to the window. He could not look at her beautiful, obnoxious face right now, or he might give into the urge to rip it off. He knew, that in reality, he would do no such thing, although he hadn't felt the beast in him so fiercely for a long time.
Beauty snorted. "Oh, I see what this is about. You're afraid they will laugh at your poor face."
Beast shuddered with hatred directed at the women behind her. He had not willed himself to grow this angry in a long time. He had managed to stay cool for so long and not let Beauty's remarks get to him, but now he was losing it...
"They will be afraid and I will be the one to laugh!" he snapped, and a growl escaped his furry mouth.
"Oh, I'm sure you will,” Beauty retorted. "You'll laugh until you weep and be an even more pitiful sight."
Beast didn't answer. He fixed on a point somewhere in the woods and counted to ten.
"Honestly, no-one cares how you look," Beauty tried, now in a lighter manner.
When Beast didn't answer, she spun around and walked to the door, and sighed barely audibly, "Is your appearance all you ever think about?"
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