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Description
Sinner in Church
An Adventures of Tintin One-Shot by SouthernImagineer
~ For the lovely HylianGirlYami

~

Finally.

In a frantic surge of desperation, you hastily daub your soaked palms on the seat of your chair, hoping to rid yourself of the clammy sensation for good. Your left hand now dry, it dives into your purse and retrieves your best stick of Burt's Bees. Perhaps curing your chapped lips will also help you calm yourself.

You're currently on a dinner date with Tintin, your boyfriend of one month. The handsome redheaded reporter has just excused himself to the restroom, allowing you a few moments of composure before he returns. So far, the date has gone well, just like any other one before, but for some reason, you still find yourself anxiously wringing your hands beneath the tablecloth. There's just something about him that makes you want to be perfect. You can confess flaws and embarrassing stories to him with ease, but to be humiliated now, as he's sitting there? Not an option.

You're still sweating like a sinner in church when he returns to the table. Even though you lock your gaze on your menu, you still have no problem noticing the smile that emerges on his face as he nears.

"Sorry about that," Tintin says, taking his seat. "The line to the ladies' room was so long that it blocked the men's room door. I had trouble maneuvering inside."

"No problem," you say leisurely, grinning and hoping you don't sound as high-strung as you feel.

"Has the waiter stopped by yet?" Tintin picks up his menu and holds it in front of his face. Much to your amusement, his ginger quiff pokes out from the top, and you resist the urge to whip out your phone and snap a picture.

You shake your head.

"Bother." He sets down the menu. "So, back to what we were discussing before I left…"

The conversation settles into its usual format, with the occasional laugh, the silent smirk, and even the slightly flirtatious comment. When you rest your hand on the table, Tintin doesn't resist placing his beside yours, and during the conversation, his thumb lightly strokes your knuckles.

It is a loving gesture, one you cherish. Briefly, you wonder if the two of you will fall asleep on the couch together like last night, heads touching, hands woven together. Haddock had remarked at breakfast about how innocent you looked, and how much in love you two must be (Tintin's face turned red at that statement). You smile, recalling his face, recalling how much love you felt for him at that very moment—

"Is something the matter?"

You widen your eyes and shake yourself from your train of thought when Tintin interrupts you.

"Oh, sorry. I was just… thinking."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"About?"

"You."

Tintin doesn't seem surprised. "Well, what a fascinating coincidence, my dear. I was just thinking about you." Now he rests his hand atop yours, squeezing gently. "About how much I've come to love you. More than you know."

At that very moment, the waiter arrives. You don't mind; you've heard enough to make your heart swell and the smile on your face grow to an enormous size, and you're sure you, too, love Tintin more than he'll ever understand.

Even when he makes you nervous.

Description
Sinner in Church
An Adventures of Tintin One-Shot by SouthernImagineer
~ For the lovely HylianGirlYami

~

Finally.

In a frantic surge of desperation, you hastily daub your soaked palms on the seat of your chair, hoping to rid yourself of the clammy sensation for good. Your left hand now dry, it dives into your purse and retrieves your best stick of Burt's Bees. Perhaps curing your chapped lips will also help you calm yourself.

You're currently on a dinner date with Tintin, your boyfriend of one month. The handsome redheaded reporter has just excused himself to the restroom, allowing you a few moments of composure before he returns. So far, the date has gone well, just like any other one before, but for some reason, you still find yourself anxiously wringing your hands beneath the tablecloth. There's just something about him that makes you want to be perfect. You can confess flaws and embarrassing stories to him with ease, but to be humiliated now, as he's sitting there? Not an option.

You're still sweating like a sinner in church when he returns to the table. Even though you lock your gaze on your menu, you still have no problem noticing the smile that emerges on his face as he nears.

"Sorry about that," Tintin says, taking his seat. "The line to the ladies' room was so long that it blocked the men's room door. I had trouble maneuvering inside."

"No problem," you say leisurely, grinning and hoping you don't sound as high-strung as you feel.

"Has the waiter stopped by yet?" Tintin picks up his menu and holds it in front of his face. Much to your amusement, his ginger quiff pokes out from the top, and you resist the urge to whip out your phone and snap a picture.

You shake your head.

"Bother." He sets down the menu. "So, back to what we were discussing before I left…"

The conversation settles into its usual format, with the occasional laugh, the silent smirk, and even the slightly flirtatious comment. When you rest your hand on the table, Tintin doesn't resist placing his beside yours, and during the conversation, his thumb lightly strokes your knuckles.

It is a loving gesture, one you cherish. Briefly, you wonder if the two of you will fall asleep on the couch together like last night, heads touching, hands woven together. Haddock had remarked at breakfast about how innocent you looked, and how much in love you two must be (Tintin's face turned red at that statement). You smile, recalling his face, recalling how much love you felt for him at that very moment—

"Is something the matter?"

You widen your eyes and shake yourself from your train of thought when Tintin interrupts you.

"Oh, sorry. I was just… thinking."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"About?"

"You."

Tintin doesn't seem surprised. "Well, what a fascinating coincidence, my dear. I was just thinking about you." Now he rests his hand atop yours, squeezing gently. "About how much I've come to love you. More than you know."

At that very moment, the waiter arrives. You don't mind; you've heard enough to make your heart swell and the smile on your face grow to an enormous size, and you're sure you, too, love Tintin more than he'll ever understand.

Even when he makes you nervous.