He wakes to sweet, featherlight kisses being pressed to his parted lips, making him gently stir, thick, heavy lashes fluttering open.
“Good morning,” she whispers when he just makes her out in the dark kaleidoscope haze.
“Mmm…” he moans softly, blinking to clear his vision, managing to capture her bottom lip between his teeth from muscle memory, tugging her back when she starts to pull away.
She laughs, giving him a proper kiss.
“Is it even morning yet?” he croaks as he stretches, back popping, careful not to knock any blankets down. The heat in the building has been out for the last two nights and they’ve survived by double layers, flannel sheets, shared body heat, and May’s old quilts (yeah, alright, as usual Wayne was right).
He gets his bearings, tucking closer to her for more warmth and to avoid falling off the edge behind them. They must have fallen asleep on the couch admiring their Christmas tree lights. He cranes his neck ever so slightly over his shoulder and spies the red numbers flashing above the television through one half opened eye.
“God, sweetheart, we’re starting a little early, aren’t we?” he yawns loudly, snuggling his head back down against the throw pillow before feeling something solid and rectangular sliding up his chest, coming to rest just under his nose.
He squints down with somewhat crossed eyes to see a small package wrapped neatly in brown paper and tied off with a dainty little string. His brows furrow.
“Merry Christmas!” she whisper-squeals.
Tired as he is, he can’t help but smile as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Can’t this wait for daylight?” he breathes a raspy chuckle, but still he shifts upward to prop his shoulders against the armrest. Shit, it’s cold. Any untouched surface feels like ice.
“I can’t wait anymore,” she tells him, resting her head against his collarbone, a whole galaxy of stars dancing in her eyes. “Your birthday already passed when we were in the hospital, so I’ve had to wait months to give this to you.”
“You’ve held off giving this to me for months?” he asks, significantly more awake now as he spins the gift around in his hands, giving it a shake.
“Yes, and I’ve had to keep it hidden too!” she adds.
He wonders how she’s managed that with them living on top of one another for the better part of a year, sharing his room in the trailer and now their tiny apartment. “Damn, what is it?”
She just wiggles against him, giving him a wide toothy smile. She’s so fucking excited, it’s adorable.
“Hmm… not even a hint?” he gives it a knock. Wooden? Hollow?
“Nope!” she says. “You’ll just have to open it to see!”
“It’s… way smaller than what I got you by the way.” he points out teasingly as he tugs the string loose, thinking of the acoustic guitar he had custom made for her that’s still hidden in the back of the van. “But, you know, that’s okay. I won’t hold it against you.”
“I have found that it is the small everyday deed of ordinary folks that keep the darkness at bay.” she recites with an adorable British accent.
“Baby, I’ve told you it’s dangerous to quote Tolkien to me while we’re in bed.” he snickers, tearing the bottom fold open to reach in and pull out a sage-green covered book. A familiar title stares back at him, written in dark letters.
“Thought it was an appropriate tie in.” she giggles.
He smiles brightly, turning it over. “Hey, hey, the Hobbit! Fucking A! What a cool copy too!”
…To go along with his other three. Yeah, it’s admittedly a little underwhelming, what with her waking him up at midnight and for her to be nearly shivering with anticipation, but it’s still really sweet.
It’s pretty sick too, with the dragon crawling along the bottom and the Misty Mountains bordering the top with the sun and the moon.
He leans over and pecks her lips. “Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome!” she chimes happily as he begins to page through it.
His smile falters after he turns over the front cover and then the map, squinting in confusion, just barely being able to make out the publication date.
“Wait…” he turns to switch on the lamp above them to see better, illuminating the small room in a muted orange glow.
“Um, this…” he frowns down at her before he studies the publishing house information.
“This is…” he nearly chokes. “Christina Elizabeth, do you realize that this is a fucking first edition!?” he exclaims at a concerningly high octave, hands beginning to shake.
She just nods slowly, beaming away.
“Where the hell did you…?” God, he might be having heart palpitations. “Honey, there’s only like fifteen hundred of these in existence!” he wheezes out, voice trembling.
He meets her gaze and her eyes are still twinkling far too knowingly for comfort. “Turn the page over.”
“…Why?” he whispers nervously, but doing as she says. “What’s on the other…”
His breathing hitches with a squeak, eyes bugging out of his head as he sees the inky, indented signature of a name that has gotten him through some of the darkest moments of his life.
May you always find joy in your journey, friend. - J.R.R. Tolkien
“That…” he squeaks, his voice rising from the pitch of a little girl’s to one he’s certain only dogs can hear. “That’s his handwriting, Chrissy, he touched this! That’s his signature! He held this in his hands!!”
“Do you like it?” she asks.
“Like it!?” he nearly shrieks. “Chrissy, this is like my bible! Where did you get this?”
“My grandad met him at Oxford while he was abroad and he signed it for him.” she explains wistfully. “He gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday, he wasn’t doing well then and wanted me to have it before he died… It was one of the things I was able to get out of my room before I left.”
“Chrissy, listen to me, you can’t… you can’t give this to me!” Eddie locks eyes with her, voice raspy and barely audible. “This… I mean Tolkien died in 1973, baby, do you have any idea what this is worth? And your granddad, I know how special he was to you, you can’t…”
“It’s mine,” she reminds him softly. “I can give it to whoever I want.”
His mouth parts wordlessly, eyes filling with unshed tears, not knowing what to do or say to that. She smiles again, leaning up to kiss his cheek before nuzzling back against him. “Besides, it’s not like it’s going very far away from me.”
After about five full minutes of staring into space, he finally settles back down as much as he can manage, body still somewhat convulsing as he starts to page through the familiar text.
“What do you think is still open right now? You fucking outdid me for life, I have to like… go and buy out Kohl’s to compensate for this.”
“I’d rather you just read it to me for a little while.” she yawns as she kisses his neck.
“I mean, I think I just had a small heart attack,” he replies with a shaky laugh, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head. “But, I’ll do my best.”
She hums happily, eyes slowly slipping shut.
“No one’s ever given me anything like this before.” he tells her, feeling a single tear run down his face. “I love you, Chrissy.”
“Merry Christmas, Eddie.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” he whispers, his heart so full that it aches.
He turns to the first chapter with great care, clearing his throat. “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…”
