Chapter Text
From the Daily Journal of T. Durin
Monday, 2019/22/04
I can’t explain it. I have no concept of it really, let alone understand it. And yet, it was real, it happened, and I will not deny it.
It was rainy, of course, and I stood standing, with a few others, close to the office building, trying desperately to avoid getting wet. Futile really, but it’s what’s one does. We try so hard to avoid the inevitable, the obvious, that we rarely see how ridiculous we are.
Which is rather ironic considering.
I stood there, only concerned with getting dry, getting home, putting my feet up and killing time until I went to bed, only to do everything I had done today all over again tomorrow. God, that sounds so pathetic. But it could not be denied. It was just at that moment I didn’t realize it.
As I watched the sky, hoping for a break, wondered if I could dash to the corner quick enough to catch a cab before it drove off, I saw him. Right there, right in front of me, right across the street, stood a man I had never spoken too, had never seen, didn’t know a damn thing about, but his very presence seemed to pull at me. He was not tall, average really in height, shorter than me though. His blondish hair was starting to turn silver-grey in places; his temples, his bangs, here and there. He wasn’t much older than I was, or at least, I didn’t think so; he had this look that said he could be young going grey early (very attractive), or older with good genes and a boyish face (also, very attractive). He was dressed like someone out of the past; tweed jacket, waistcoat, bow tie, and brown leather saddle shoes. Even the cross-body messenger-bag was well worn and looked ‘antiqued.’
The funny thing was, I was painfully aware that had it been anyone else, I wouldn’t have looked at them twice. He was dressed as someone I probably wouldn’t even have noticed. But … I did and I was struck. There was no other way to describe the feeling I had. Like someone had dumped ice over my head and for the first time in my life, I noticed the world around me!
Well, only him really.
Traffic slowed and for a few seconds opened up and then he dashed, right in the middle of London traffic, he dashed across the street! He was taking his life in his hands and I wanted to scream, “Don’t! Stop! Wait for me and I will protect you!” But no sooner had the voice rose up in me, the guy reached my side and stepped up onto the pavement. He smiled to himself at a job well done as he started walking in the opposite way from me.
I had to follow. I didn’t care about the rain, I didn’t even notice it by then.
I tried to keep a discreet distance so as not to be noticed, although part of me begged the heavens for him to notice. And why was that? I can’t tell. For the first time in my life, I was … well, excited and nervous. It was odd.
The guy ducked into a bookstore, the jingle of the door chimes was clear even six metres away.
Of course, I followed him.
He greeted the owner, they chatted, though I didn’t hear what they were saying as I was so focused on trying to be nonchalant and looking over a stand of newspapers. But I could hear the tone and his voice … my god his voice was like the flow of water over stones or wind through the trees; melodious. And I wondered, what would it sound like, whispering things in the dark of my bedroom?
As he moved into the shop, I tried to keep an eye on him while at the same time pretending to be looking at the books around me. He walked around the huge cases, fingers dancing over book spines. He passed through the Agricultural and Botanical section, World Traveler section, and even section with Atlases and Maps from all over the world. Finally, he stopped in History. He pulled a few volumes off the shelf one at a time, flipped through them, put them back, and then picked another. He moved slowly down the row, up and down each shelf and, by the end, had chosen three.
He walked past me as I looked over a section of metaphysical books, something I had zero knowledge or interest in, but I got a good view of him from the corner of my eye; rosy cheeks, bright eyes, full lips, and the smell … god, he smelled like apples warmed by the sun, ripe and delicious.
As he checked out his purchases and chatted with the proprietor, I again stood to one side, attempting to look a display of bookmarks, hoping to go unnoticed. I waited with my back to him, waiting for the moment he said good-bye to the other man, so that I … well, I didn’t know what to do, but I had to follow. Fuck going home or any shit I thought I had to do. There was nothing more important than my guy at that moment.
But I suddenly heard the door-chime and when I turned, he was gone!
I rushed out, I had to find him! And find him I did.
I ran right into him.
He was just standing there to one side of the door and he looked up at me, a Mona Lisa smile on his lips and raised an eyebrow, his arms crossed. I wanted to die. Regardless of being the taller one, I felt very small and embarrassed and ridiculous and I wanted to crawl away and die.
But he reached up and placed something in the breast pocket of my jacket. “You really are terrible at sneaking about.” He said, his smile turning into a playful smirk. He walked off.
I just stood there, leaning against the wall, thinking how idiotic and crazed he must think I was. He probably thought me a prat at the very least or even some mentally deranged psychotic!
That’s when I remembered the item in my pocket.
I pulled it out and it was a simple card. A calling card. Charming. And there was only two lines of script. The first was a name. BILBO BAGGINS. The other was a phone number.
A voice inside said to just go home and forget it. I’d made enough of an arse of myself, don’t add insult to injury.
But diary, I eventually ignored that voice. I dialed that number. The moment I heard his voice, I knew. With every fiber of my being, I knew.
My life would never be the same again.