A New Hope
A/N Hi! Sorry if updates are a little irregular, school has started again, so homework is being given to us as freely as sweets chucked into a crowd of little kids. And unfortunately, it has to be done. Anyways, hope you like this chapter!
Waiting for the text is pure, horrendous agony.
Moira sits on the sofa in her hotel room, staring at the block of plastic she now loathes( for not beeping) that is lying on the coffee table. Every ounce of her is silently urging the phone to beep, ring, chirrup, or whatever it is that phones do to signal a message. She's had many different phones, as she frequently drops and smashes them, and they all make( or made) different noises.
Every time Moira has to get up to go to the toilet, or get a glass of water or a biscuit, she walks calmly away, and then sprints faster than a 100m Olympic runner to the phone, switching onto the screen to see if there's a message, although the speed at which she goes back might change if there's a message or not. And yet, nothing.
It's kind of ironic that she's in the shower when the phone finally rings, vibrating against the table. The vibrations feel like the beats of her heart, and the phone shakes so much the friction causes little fart like sounds( A/N My phone does this, it's quite weird, and also terrifying at the same time). Moira jumps, screams slightly in surprise, and runs out the shower, only just stopping to wrap a towel around herself. She may want to take this call very badly, but she'll keep hold of her dignity, thank you very much.
She answers on the fifth ring.
"Hello?" She asks breathlessly.
"Hi." Charles replies, and he pauses. "Are you out of breath?"
Moira tries to breathe more carefully.
"No." She squeaks.
Charles laughs, a sound which is transfigured by the receiver into a crackly laugh, rather than the smooth, musical one she knows belongs to Charles.
"Anyone would think you ran to the phone." He laughs again, and Moira blushes, and laughs shakily. No... She thinks... Of course I didn't. Ha.. Ha.
"No, course not. I was just..." Moira thinks of a suitable thing for her to be doing. "Reading." She says finally, her eyes catching a book shelf in the corner of the room.
"What were you reading?" Charles asks. From somebody else, Moira would think they were challenging her, trying to catch her out. But she knows Charles has a genuine interest in books, and slaps her forehead. Think, Moira, think.
She scans the bookshelf, but she's too far away to see the names written on the spines of the books.
"Um... Pride and Prejudice." She says. At least her crazy and flustered brain picked something she's read, so at least she can cover if Charles asks further. Which, thankfully, he doesn't.
"Oh, wonderful." He says. "Haven't read it myself, but it's on my list."
"You have to read it!" Moira almost shouts, before she can stop herself. "Sorry. It's one of my favourites." She adds.
Charles dissolves into peals of laughter, or at least that's what it sounds like from this end of the phone. Moira waits awkwardly.
"I will, don't worry." Charles says at last. "How about dinner tonight?"
Moira shuts her eyes and screws up her face to prevent herself from screaming in happiness. Ohmygod, she thinks, I'm seeing him again! ...and breathe, Moira, breathe.
"Yes. Okay." She squeaks.
"Brilliant." Charles says.
When Charles hangs up the phone, he fist pulls, and then looks around guiltily to see if anyone saw. They didn't, though. He lives alone, after all.
Charles laughs at something Moira says at the restaurant, making her grin. She spears a green bean and finishes telling the story. Charles snorts, attracting some looks from nearby diners, who have been looking down at them all evening.
"Whoops." Moira says. "Don't die on me."
"I won't." Charles grins, recovering from the laughter.
"What's your favourite film?" Moira asks curiously, resting her chin on her hand. Charles frowns, thinking, then replies.
"A New Hope."
It's Moira's turn to frown. She doesn't know that one.
"What is it about?" She asks, then pauses when Charles takes in a deep breath, a scared look on his face and his eyes widening. It takes Moira a second to realise he's reacting in mock anger, not real.
"It's Star Wars IV!" Charles tells her. Moira shakes her head.
"I'm still lost." Moira says, and laughs slightly when Charles moves his plate to the side and bangs his head on the table. When he lifts his head, a curious light is alive in his eyes.
"You've never seen Star Wars?" He says slowly. Moira nods, and frowns when Charles gets out his wallet. He throws a note on the table, then stands up. He's grinning.
"Come on." He says. "You are coming back to mine." Moira raises her eyebrows, and he blushes scarlet. "Not like that." He amends. "You are watching Star Wars."
Moira picks up her coat and follows him out the restaurant, ignoring the disapproving looks of the other people in the restaurant, who mutter something about 'young people these days'.
When the TV in Charles' tiny apartment stops showing the happenings of a galaxy far far away, Moira sits up, and turns to Charles.
"Does Han confess his obvious love for Leia? Do they defeat the Empire?" She says very quickly, so quickly it comes out as something like "doeshanconfessforleiaanddodefeatempire."
Charles laughs, and grins, not trying to make sense of the nonsense just spouted at him.
"You'll have to watch the next ones."
She glares at him.
"Do you have the next one?" She asks, angling her head in one side. Charles pretends to look offended.
"Of course!" He grins. "Shall I put it on?"
Moira nods quickly, and he laughs, throwing his head back. He doesn't make any move to get up though, so she pokes his arm, glaring again. This make him laugh more, and he gets up.
"Okay, okay!" He laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'm going, I'm going."
Moira watches him go over to his rack of DVDs (alphabetised) and run his finger over the spines of all the cases, searching for the right one. He pulls it out, and turns to her, raising it for her to see.
Moira feels her stomach dive through the floor, and she looks down to watch it fall. No, it's only been, like, two days. He can't be making her feel like this already. Can he?
Then, she thinks, the name of the wonderful film she's just watched is kind of ironic. A New Hope. But a New Hope for what?
No, don't think it Moira. Don't be such a cliché.
She thinks it anyway. Love.