Tintin X Reader

To call you beautiful was an understatement. The way you held yourself, your smile -even the way your hair fell around your face as you bobbed your head in a laugh. It was all breathtaking.

He looked like a fool for a second. The reporter just stood there and watched you. A sorry attempt to savor the sight of you, in case you rejected his begging to speak to you and happiness would go away with you forever.

He gathered his courage and walked up to the table, "Excuse me, could I speak to you, Y/n?"

"Yes, I suppose. As soon as I finish this game," you said without even glancing at the red head.

You giggled as you laid another card on the table, Elton sighed unhappily and Tintin lingered next to you. Peeking over at your cards.

"I am so bad at this game!" Elton exclaimed.

Tintin changed his strategy, "You've got a lethal hand."

The journalist's voice was lowered into a soft murmur in your ear and you silently damned him. Damned him and his politeness. You escpecially damned the way he made you weak to your knees.

"Should I go for the deadly blow?" you whispered back at Tintin.

You had to act, in front of all of these people, like everything was fine. Like everything was perfectly good between you and Tintin. And like that horrible headache was not ruining your night -crying is not good for the body.

People laughed as the violins played. A playful breeze sweept through the garden, knocking your napkin off the table. Tintin grabbed the cloth hastily, not letting it sit on the ground for more than a second and gave it back.

As he handed it back and you reached out to grab it, your hands touched. It was not for more than a moment. Yet you could feel the electricity in your body that this innocent touch created.

You pulled your hand back quickly, "Thank you, Tintin."

"You're welcome," he said slightly confused. He had felt it too.

Soon enough, the game of cards came to an end. With smarts and strategy, you had won. Elton had came in last and the other party guests were pleased with their own performances.

"Alright, then," you said when the game was over.

Captain Haddock who had been watching from afar, giggled like a school girl, clapped his hands and gave the young man his thumbs up.

Tintin politely took your hand, helped you down from your chair and started leading you away to a more quiet spot. Your face got more and more red as time went on. Not only because of the growing embaressment, but also the way his touch drove you to your wits end. In that moment, if he had turned to you, you would have kissed him.

But he didn't, instead he stopped a few meters before you. The reporter had led you to a spot in the park that was far away enough to be out of earshot, but close enough to be within eyesight and to not cause suspicion.

You sat down on the bench, very calmly, not to raise alarm.

"And what did you want to speak of?" you asked, looking at the reporter.

"Y/n," Tintin started. "I know you are upset with me, in all your right. But, what I need to tell you is not of that matter. It's something else entierly... A much more important matter, as a matter of fact."

Your heart lept, and you hated yourself for it. You ignored your feelings and instead continued to listen patiently.

The reporters cheeks grew red, "I know, that we haven't know each other long, but I've grown very fond of you. Of your smarts, your humor and of your kindness. I hate it, but sometimes I am wrong. If you believe Chris -then I do too."

"I thought you were going to discuss something else?" you said, much entertained by the young man's stuttering.

"Yes- I-" the journalist started. "I'm getting there... I am so impressed by you... I-"

You looked at him with raised brows, waiting for him to speak.

There was a short pause and then the reporter chuckled, "I can fight crooks unarmed, with the odds against me, no sleep. And yet... at this I cower."

"At this you cower?" you repeated silently.

He looked at you and sighed, "I am so sorry Y/n. You mean a great deal to me. I want to be a part of your life, if you'll have me."

He wanted to, but he could not say the words that were burning on his tongue. Burning in his heart. It was a bittersweet suffering, this feeling.

At first you stared at him, eyes wide open and your mind trying to comprehend what the red head had just told you. Had just confessed.

He cared for you! He wanted to be a part of your life just as you wanted to be a part of his. You could have screamed of happiness right then and there.

"Of course I'll have you!" you laughed. "And of course I'll forgive you!"

You did not have time to say anything else, for Tintin had thrown himself onto you and hugged you as if his life depended on it. You giggled happily.

"I was really upset with you... but I am also sorry for the things I said. I am terribly ashamed," you apologized.

He smiled and took your hand, "I forgave you the moment those words left the air."

"Let's never fight again!" you exclaimed as a few tears of joy and relief fell down your cheeks.

Tintin stroked the tears of your face, "I'll try my best to not wrong you again. Now, don't cry and ruin your makeup!"

You smiled and looked at him. The reporter's hand was soft and warm against your skin, the electric current shot through you and in that moment you knew he could feel it too.

You were about to kiss.

But a familiar voice interrupted you, "Y/n?"

"Yes?" you answered with a sigh as Tintin took a step back.

Monica came around the corner of the hedge, completely unaware of what was going on behind the leaves.

"I need to tell you something," she started but stopped when she saw Tintin. "In private."

"No worries," Tintin said, smiled at Monica and walked over to Haddock.

The sea captain was conversing with a few of the guests but left them as soon as he saw Tintin.

"I was watching you, laddie," he said. "In the beginning, I never thought she'd go with you. But she did!"

"She did indeed," the young man repeated, his mind elsewhere.

Captain Haddock patted Tintin on the shoulder, "My heart was in my mouth, I don't mind telling you! But I left you to it when you walked over to the hedges, you didn't need me to ruin the mood now, did you? How did it go? Did you tell her how you feel about her?"

"I didn't quite get there, I suppose..." the reporter sighed.

The old sailor looked at him, "You didn't tell her that you love her?"

"I did not tell her that I love her."

"How come?" the Captain asked.

Tintin changed the direction of the conversation, "I almost kissed her! I wanted to kiss her! I could smell the perfume on her neck and see the sparkle in her eye. Oh! I have never experienced this kind of suffering before!"