Chapter Text
“Speaking”
‘thinking’
‘written notes or texts’
-------
I think I’ve finished it- my most recent book. I’m going through it over and over again, with more of an eye for grammar and spelling than I did when I was writing it. I know that I’m missing things, it’s 45 chapters, and I’m not finding much, so I have to be missing things. ‘Maybe I didn’t?’ I wonder. After all, I haven’t been drinking nearly as much. That isn’t to say that I’ve been completely sober, but I’ve forced myself not to buy anything alcoholic for the last few days, and so I’m rationing my current supplies.
I lean back in my office chair and rub my eyes in irritation. ‘What the hell is wrong with me? Most people can’t write with alcohol, and now I can’t write without it?’ Logically, I know that isn’t the case. Usually, there are more errors than anything else when I write when I’m drunk, I’m just not used to writing when sober. I’m not used to doing much except for driving when I’m sober.
I push myself away from my desk and spin around, then stand up. How could I have forgotten? My baby, my bike is out of the shop! Maybe that’s what I need- the wind slamming against my jacket and helmet, cold air leaching any sort of warmth from my hands, the thrill of just getting on the highway and going fast with nothing between me and the road but two wheels and an engine. The more I think about it, the more I itch to just go, and before I know it, I’m throwing on my jacket, changing my house shoes out for a worn pair of leather boots, my pajama pants for jeans, and I’m removing the extra side packs on my bike to hook up the sidecar.
Daisy is practically dancing around the bike- she knows what this means, and I think she likes my bike just as much as I do. “Do you want to go ride, girl? Huh?” I tease, and she barks loudly, the stub of her tail wagging happily.
Without further ado, her collar is put back on, leash attached to the inside of the sidecar so that when she inevitably needs to do her business, she can do so without the risk of her getting lost when chasing something, and we’re off.
Kids- and sometimes adults- point and laugh at the dog, her own little custom helmet on (one of the few things that I really splurge on), riding in a sidecar. We make a ludicrous picture, I know, and we head up the highway for an hour before I have to walk her. I get more gas, we head back, and then I get the phone call. That’s the one thing that I don’t like about my bike. If I were in a car- ‘or a ridiculously souped up truck’ I think, recalling Glorfindel’s vehicle- I would be able to answer without a problem. On a bike, if I fish around in my jacket for my phone, I have a fairly large chance of crashing. So I don’t- I feel it stop vibrating, start again, before I find a rest stop.
‘One missed call: Fin. One voice mail’ I pull off my helmet and let Daisy out to walk around, wrapping the loop of her leash around my wrist.
First, I check the voice mail- always good to know what I’m being called for. There’s nothing, and it lasts less than a second, so he probably didn’t mean to leave one. A few seconds later, I have my phone up to my ear and he picks up.
“Hey, sorry I missed you.” God, that sounds corny. ‘Please let it not sound as stupid as I think it does.’
He laughs and I flush, embarrassed though I know he can’t exactly see me. “It’s fine. Kinda need a break, do you want to go out sometime?” Was that a pleading note in his voice? So hard to tell- I’ve only been on one date with the man, but it’s enough to know he has a ridiculously expressive face. And he talks with his hands- I’ve never really understood that.
“Sure, bike’s fixed, so I’ve got to break her in again anyway. When are you wanting to go?” Suddenly, I frown. It’s a Wednesday- late Wednesday, but Wednesday nonetheless, and it’s only 2 pm. Shouldn’t he be at the gym?
“Oh, just whenever- as long as you don’t have work, of course.”
I shrug, and then have another moment of embarrassment when I realize that there’s no way for him to see me do so. “I should be back in town in half an hour or so. I take it you’ve got the day off?”
“Yeah, I had to take my daughter to the hospital, ended up taking today and tomorrow off.”
I make a concerned noise- he’s told me quite a bit about Tauriel, and she seems sweet, if a bit rebellious. “Is she all right?”
“Well, she’s at home with me right now, doing better- her friend got the sh- stuffing beat out of him last night.”
I have to hold in my snort. ‘Stuffing? Is her friend a teddy bear?’ “That sucks. Hey, I’ll call you when I’m back in town. Is that okay?”
I wait long enough to hear his response, say my goodbyes, and hang up. That’s one thing I’d forgotten about relationships. I usually prefer one night stands, when you’re dating someone there’s a certain amount of nervousness. It’s not just- bang them and go, it’s impress them, keep impressing them, keep a certain image.
Before long, I’m back in town, and I put Daisy outside again, after feeding her and giving her some more water. I also end up changing out the blanket in her doghouse again, she’s torn it to shreds. I make a mental note to get her another chew toy so she doesn’t give it the same treatment. She’s generally a well behaved mutt, but sometimes- well, dogs will be dogs.
“Hey, I’m back in. Where did you want to eat?”
He doesn’t know, no surprise, but then shocks me. “Is it all right if I bring Tauriel? She needs to get out the house a bit.” I’m silent, unsure of the response I should give. ‘impress them, keep impressing them, keep a certain image.'
‘Yes, bring your daughter who I probably know, because I’m closer to her age than yours, and make it awkward at the restaurant, or no, and make it awkward now.’
The silence must have lasted longer than I’d thought. “I’ll just call in a pizza or something for her, it’s fine.” I wince and respond.
“No, sorry, I just- my dog was-“ I look outside and feel guilty. Daisy isn’t actually doing anything except for chasing a lone squirrel. “chasing something in the house. You can bring her, it’s fine.” ‘No it’s not,’ I think, pessimistic to the core. ‘She’s probably going to hate me, and this is going to be over as soon as it’s begun.’
“Oh, thanks.” He responds, and I hear him put down the phone a little, probably so he won’t deafen me, and call to someone. Probably Tauriel, I decide. The name sounds ridiculously familiar, but then again, I spent most of high school drunk, and I went to Erebor, not the fancy one she goes to.
We decide on a little out-of-the way place- date-like enough to be nice, busy enough not to be too entirely awkward with his daughter there. 'Who am I kidding?' I wonder. 'His daughter's there, of course it's going to be awkward.'