I do not own the Adventures of Tintin or the character Tintin. The girl does belong to me.
Notes: This story is set before the events in Land of the Soviets, but as Tintin does not seem to age through any of his adventures he is still the same age as he appears in all of Herge's stories.
Tears in the Rain by Miarka
Brussels, 1914. The First World War.
Both of the young teenagers were sodden wet as the boy with the ginger quiff pulled the dark hair brunette girl into Brussels train station.
"You've got to go now, they'll be coming for you, they know you're a spy."
"I can't leave you." The girl squealed. "Vhat if they trace you back to me?"
"They won't, I promise you I'll be fine so long as you are fine." The boy urged her desperately. He kept glancing round, checking to make sure no one was watching them, but everyone was belt down hurrying to get out of the downpour.
She look up at him in despair but them but then the corners of her mouth curled into a small smile. "You know, your country iz a not as stupid as I vought."
He let out a laugh. "You only say that because I'm Belgian. Still the enemy must be fairly clever too if they managed to sneak you in."
"Oai, anyvone vill believe the story a young pretty face who iz orphaned and trying to seek refuge." She looked away from him and down at the rain splashing back up on their feet. "It just all backfired ven I ran straight into you heart."
She raised her big brown eyes to be met by his deep green blue eyes, now filling with tears.
"I know its been barely anytime, but its been the best time I've ever had, it's been wild, and crazy, and completely new, and I loved every second of it." He paused and breathed deep and clasped her hand because he knew he'd have to let her go soon. "And I promise you after the moment we met I loved every second I thought of you, and after today a second won't go by when I don't think of you."
A warm smile spread across her face, she was partly the confident girl he fallen in love with, but also a desperate wreak with a heart that was being torn. "You say the sveetest things, I bet all your Belgian girls love you."
He shook his head. "There's never been another girl, I don't know if there'll ever be another girl after you."
A whistle was blown on the platform, signalling that any who wanted to board the train must do so now.
"You must go now." The boy yelled.
In one last attempted to keep their hearts forever bound, they reached for each other. And in that moment the one perfectly tragic moment that Tintin would want to relive again and again for the rest of his days, they were both complete. Cold hands dug into ginger and brunette hair, their mouth's moved against each others hungrily as one, and they cuddled together in their brown and gray trench coats their bodies broken to have to separate.
But separate they had too. And the reporter lead the enemy spy to the train. And she climbed onboard and turned to look at him for the last time.
"You'll be alright? You'll be able to get back to your country?"
"Of course." She replied. "Its vhat I trained for."
He smiled. "Isn't this quite a love story. The spy who stole my heart."
Suddenly the door was pulled shut.
And she just had time to yell "I love you, Tintin" out the open window before the train began to pull out the station.
He stood there on the platform, weather for a second or all day it doesn't matter, for the rain never stopped all day, and no one see tears in the rain.
