Chapter Text
Slightly in the distance, off to his right, Thorin spotted an astoundingly beautiful moment. He felt a multitude of things within the span of about thirty seconds. Shock, at the initial sight of the image, excitement, that the universe had given him the opportunity to witness something so singularly precious; pride, that he was probably the only person ever to see what he was seeing exactly as he was seeing it at this moment, and then sadness that the moment would soon pass and Thorin would only have evidence of it in his memory. Against all his misgivings, and the nagging voice in his head (which closely resembled that of his pestering sister), Thorin shifted his camera away from his preening subject and onto this unique sight, focused it, clicked the shutter once, and sighed quietly.
Just as Thorin predicted, no sooner had the camera flashed, the man- for a man this must surely be despite Thorin’s mind insisting he must be otherwise- stepped out of the ray of sun which had just been caressing him. The yellow silhouette around each of his feathery eyelashes disappeared, taking with it the mirth in those wondering eyes. The droplets of honey dancing in his hair dulled, the rosiness of his cheeks was shadowed, and the curiosity radiating from his form became more relaxed. So quickly, the stranger descended from his angelic moment and yet, Thorin was still shaken by his visage. Even out of the sunlight, this man had a quality about him that was confusing. In a beautiful, chimerical way. Almost as if he belonged in a story where there were more fields and mountains than cities, and where all manner of angelic and mythical creatures would live.
“Uh, Mr. Oakenshield. Excuse me?” came the voice of the head of the Jewelry company they were shooting for. Thorin whipped his head back to the model currently with her highly-jeweled arms crossed. He was supposed to be getting some decent shots for the company, and he had been perfectly focused until this anomaly came along. Bofur made a face at him but pretended not to wonder what Thorin had just photographed.
“Uh, sorry. Just a couple more shots and I think we’ve got what we came for.” He gave a forced smile to cover up his awkwardness and waited for the model to re-position. If he was being honest, he thought the idea of using natural lighting for a jewelry shoot was overdoing it a bit, but as they had a nice outdoor shoot space off the back of the studio, he wasn’t complaining.
While Bofur shook hands with the model exclaiming that she was “marvelously photogenic, love,” and Dwalin started to usher her and the company head back into the studio, Thorin packed up his camera as slowly as possible, because the beautiful man was still there in the courtyard across from the studio yard, though Thorin couldn’t tell what exactly he was doing.
Several hours and several appointments later, Balin finally declared that he’d had enough of booking fussy models and clothing companies for one day, and that whoever is last out should lock up the photography studio. Bofur left not long after, claiming he needed sleep to have enough energy to coax vacant barbies into at least semi-attractive poses and expressions. About a half an hour later, Thorin is sitting in his darkened office, still running through photo sets of the shoots of the day, pitching unusable ones and organizing decent ones to be edited the next day. He is interrupted, however, by a smirking Dwalin just as he gets to the jewelry shoot.
“Something had you quite off your game today, eh laddie?” Thorin sighed and turned in his rolling chair to face Dwalin, an entirely brick-like expression on his face.
“So what if I had an off day? That’s nothing so noteworthy.” He grumbled under his breath about Dwalin always assuming he was upset as he turned back to his computer screen.
“Off day my arse, Thorin, we all know you’re the most concentrated out of all of us. It’s not like you to space out like that. I just want to know what got you so out of sorts. Cause that’s what mates do.”
Thorin battled with himself for a moment, deciding whether it was worth it to keep putting up a fight when Dwalin, as usual, saw through every excuse he came up with. Having made his decision and already regretting it, Thorin let out a long, nervous exhale and clicked his way through the jewelry shoot file until he landed on the one of the beautiful golden stranger.
A couple of seconds of silence, and then Thorin heard chuckling behind him.
“Well, he’s just your type.” Dwalin said between stifled chortles as Thorin fumed by his side. “I have to say for some reason I expected the problem would be something like this. Although I didn’t think you’d take such a stalker-y route.” He laughed harder at his own words and Thorin quickly minimized the page, crossing his arms hard enough to roll his seat back an inch or two.
“It isn’t stalker-y he was just.. there. And It’s only one picture.” He glanced up at Dwalin and rolled his eyes. “I fail to see why you find this humorous.”
“You’ve been distracted all day because you’re smitten with some curly, baby-faced stranger who was dancin’ across the yard from us. It’s just so you, Thorin. Maybe I’ll write a teen romance based off this. “Surly photographer spies on adorable stranger, then they meet and fall in love” what d’you think?” Thorin just slid a hand down his face and pointed to his office door without looking up.
“Out.” Dwalin backed away, hands up defensively but stuck his mohawked-head back through the door before it was all the way closed.
“I suggest you try talkin’ to him sooner rather than later, so as to avoid getting any more… stalker-y. Cause knowing you, you’ll just brood and pine and brood some more.” a saucy wink and he was gone, and Thorin was feeling a dreadful, tar-like feeling fill his stomach. As much as the stranger had enthralled him, Thorin rather wished he wouldn’t see the man again so he could just forget about him and stay at least relatively sane.