I had a request to try a oneshot on the day Tintin and Nollie met, so... Here it is! It's my first oneshot ever and I'm really not entirely sure how to do it so... don't freak out on me if I messed up on something!
Everything began the day I was walking home from the bakery. I was only twelve years old at the time, and it was just a normal January day for me. I was picking up a loaf of bread for Andrea—she always had me go to the bakery, ever since she stopped seeing the baker and began to hold a grudge against him. I was walking down the street, bread in my arm, watching the sidewalk beneath my feet. It was a dirty sidewalk, something that had seen many shoes.
Suddenly someone ran into me, shoving me off of the sidewalk and into an alleyway, flinging the loaf of bread from my hands. I screamed and tried to push the person away, but it was no use. The person thrust me behind a crate and crouched down low, pulling me down with him. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure it would burst when I noticed it was a boy who had grabbed me—a boy not much older than I was. He noticed I was there with a jolt of surprise.
"Who are you?" He asked. I noticed his red hair.
"I'm Nollie," I said, voice shaking.
"Oh. Hi, Nollie. I'm Tintin." He held out his hand for me to shake. I wasn't used to this sort of thing, so I looked at him curiously.
"Tintin… The writer?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"Really?" I asked, shocked. I never thought I'd live to see the day I met Tintin the writer. "Aunt Martha will never believe this…" Never in a thousand years would she!
He looked a bit confused before standing. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Nollie, and I'm awfully sorry about the bread…" He looked over at the loaf of bread, which now lay in a mud puddle on the side of the alleyway. "Tell you what, I'll buy you a new one, and walk you home. How does that sound?" I nodded. It wasn't every day Tintin the writer bought a loaf of bread for a girl he met on the streets and walked her home.
"So Nollie, eh?" I remember him asking me on our way to the bakery.
And I was right—Aunt Martha didn't believe me at all when I told her that the thirteen-year-old Tintin the writer bought the loaf of bread for me after he accidentally knocked the other one into a mud puddle.
"Nollie, don't be silly! Why on earth would a celebrity boy buy you a loaf of bread? Out of all the silly stories…"
Could you imagine what Aunt Martha thought when Nollie went to move in with Tintin at the end of book 1? Yeah. Poor, poor Aunt Martha. Please review!