HIIII guys! Sorry this one is so overdue, I've been so busy with school and my new job and everything and this chapter has been super tough to write... But I finally got it done! So happy Thanksgiving! :) Hopefully over Winter Break I'll get a couple more chapters done! See you at the bottom :) ~DP55
Two
Silence
Several police officers showed up not long after us, clearing the crowd, and, eventually, us. Tintin had protested, speaking words I didn't understand in harsh tones at them, trying to persuade them to let us stay. They didn't listen, and soon we were back at our hotel room, the lights dim, Tintin pacing the oval rug on the floor in front of the bed. I sat at the edge of the bed, two strides away—but he didn't notice. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, expression unreadable, as he paced around in circles.
"Tintin."
He didn't stop walking.
I persisted, despite this. "Tintin. They don't want a moat in the middle of the room."
Didn't stop.
I scooted towards the edge of the bed, slid my feet onto the floor, walked towards him and reached for him. He avoided me, trading my embrace for a dark stare. "Tintin, you're scaring me."
"Those girls were tourists," he finally spoke, his voice a mere whisper, "I could tell by their clothing."
"So?"
"So, I am trying to decipher why there was a predator involved in a simple Italian holiday." The way he said predator sent a chill down my spine.
"It isn't our problem, Tintin. This is our honeymoon. Please…let's get ready for bed." I was exhausted and tired of wearing this gown—especially now that the hemline was soaked in another girl's blood.
"Get some sleep. What are we doing tomorrow?"
"The plan is to be at St. Marco's Basilica by ten."
"Then we'll be there." He was fibbing. He'd most likely stay up all night thinking about those girls, not get a wink of sleep, and I wouldn't get to see St. Marco's Basilica until I was eighty-seven years old. Some honeymoon this was turning out to be.
I changed into my lilac purple silk nightgown and slipped into bed, pulling the duvet up over my head to block out the light and the sound of my husband's new brown oxford shoes pacing the hotel room floor. Maybe I'll just go to the Basilica on my own. No, Tintin won't allow that. After all, he's digging a hole in the hotel floor, making himself silly over those girls. I just really wanted to see that Basilica.
The next morning, I awoke beside Tintin—still in his day clothes, his new brown oxfords on his feet. "How late were you up?" When he opened his eyes they were bleary with sleep—as if he had just fallen asleep.
"Not long after you fell asleep, sweetheart…" He had to be lying.
"Are you telling the truth?"
"Of course."
"Why are you so worried about those girls? They aren't our problem. This is our honeymoon, and worrying about them is just going to ruin it."
"I want to solve the problem so that others don't have a similar occurrence."
"I doubt that would happen. Come on, it's already nine, we need to get going."
"The girls had no identification, and yet they were tourists. Everyone knows that when you go on holiday you're supposed to keep your valuables with you." He looked at me, mystified, and rose from the bed. "Someone had been holding them hostage, but I can't put my finger on why. Did they commit a crime? Or…" He paused, "Were they being held as…prostitutes?" They hadn't been dressed like it, but he had a point. Perhaps they'd been captured and held as their captor's prostitutes.
"Why would they be the prey?"
"Tourists are extremely susceptible targets, Nollie…often times they don't speak the same language, or…" He cut himself off and crossed across the room to the table where his suitcase was, opened it, and began to sift through his array of shirts.
"Or what?"
He didn't answer me. Was this going to become a habit of his—not answering my questions? I didn't ask—I didn't want to know the answer. What kind of husband ignores his wife's questions?
Apparently mine.
We dressed in silence—he finished getting ready before me, and went for the door. "Where are you going?" My voice quavered at this, worried he wasn't going to answer me again. Oh, wonderful. Married one day, separated the next.
"Breakfast."
"Wait for me!" I was hopping after him, pulling on my shoes, but he was already out the door. Had I done something wrong? I yanked my shoe on and raced after him. "Tintin," I snapped the second he was within earshot, running up to take his arm, "What is going on? Have I done something wrong?" I didn't want to know the answer. What if he ended everything right then and there? He could just take the shiny new wedding band off of his finger and toss it away as if it meant nothing. As if his vows meant nothing.
"Nollie Angeline," he'd begun, a glimmer of excitement in his gray eyes as he stood at the altar, ring in his hand, "Anyone can say 'in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer'—but we are not just anyone. With this ring, I promise to love and cherish you in all the days of my life. I promise to be your light in the dark, a beacon for which you know you are safe beside and you know you can always return to. This ring exists as a reminder that I have chosen you above all others to share my life with. This," he murmured, sliding the ring onto my finger, "Is my promise of love to you."
Back in the hotel now, I was still trying to get my husband to stop."Tintin," I pulled at his arm, dragging him to a stop, "Io sono sua moglie. I am your wife. Tell me what is going on." My heart was pounding and my stomach had tied itself in knots. I felt as if I was going to vomit—but I couldn't. Not here.
He took a long, long moment to collect his thoughts before finally speaking.
"I believe I am a danger to you," he said slowly, clearly. His words hit me like a train—I was reminded of Lady Magnolia's feat and his similar argument from then. "I have discovered that whenever I am with you, your life is always jeopardized, and I don't want you to risk your life anymore, not for me. It's not right." He'd argued, before briefly breaking up with me.
"You are not. You are my hero," I took his arm, which had now fallen limp, and wrapped it around my waist.
"Everywhere we go there is some…some threat…and I can't…" He was clearly exhausted.
"Darling, listen to me." I took his arms and laced them around my waist, pulled myself close to him, looked deep into his gray eyes. This seemed to perk him up. "Whenever I am with you I know I am safe. I am in no danger right now, nor ever."
"But what if—" I didn't let him finish. I'd enveloped his lips with mine.
OKAY BUT LIKE TINTIN'S VOWS THOUGH. I was getting emotional writing them like, "oh my gosh my babies are all grown up!" xD Anyway this chapter isn't amazing but I tried to make it fairly good x) I hope you liked it! Please review/follow the story/follow me and check out Tintin & Nollie's blog by Googling tintinnollie. ~DisneyPrincess55
