all my heroes

@theodorepruitt

35 posts

"Oh. Wow," Birdy breathes, Mr. Noodle tucked to her chest, leash looped loosely around her wrist as she stares at the little pit mix. Her heart is pounding. She is very certain is has nothing to do with anything except how her gaze keeps snapping up to Teddy's face. He's glowing. Even outside special incandescent lights. "Tilly. It's like— my first celebrity sighting ever. Well. I saw Meryl Streep at a banquet once. But. This is only one that matters."

It was cold, early December, and Tilly was wearing her pink sweater — courtesy of Phoebe, of course. And partly Teddy, too. He thought she looked very cute and sweet in it.

"Meryl Streep? You hear that, Tilly? They're comparing you to Meryl Streep."

Teddy smiled at Birdy, then immediately looked at Mr. Noodle. "And you. Sheriff Noodle. So nice to finally meet you." Teddy extended a hand for Mr. Noodle to smell.

Thumb brushes. Birdy's heart skips. It feels like she's just successfully scaled a mountain. "Your hand is like your wrist. I mean. Also very good for holding."

"Oh! Gosh. I see. Yeah. Well, Mr. Noodle would say he's honored if that's the case. Cuz— I'm guessing your free mornings are pretty precious. If you're the kind of guy who has to run for work.

"Yeah? Your hands are perfect. Kinda small."

"Are you free this weekend?"

"Okay. I'll just. Borrow it for a while then." Birdy does something brave— for her. She slides her hand up his wrist. Folds her fingers through the gaps of his own.

That's a nice smile. "Oh yeah? I'll talk to her. But. So. If I were to ask Tilly, the best time for us to — take them both out. Would she tell me you prefer later in the day then?"

Teddy watched their fingers interlace together. He felt his heart squeeze in a very comfortable, familiar way. "This is perfect," he replied, brushing his thumb over her own.

"No, Tilly would definitely tell you that I would wake up early for you." Teddy paused. "For Mr. Noodle, I mean."

"....Probably not," Birdy ventures. That stare is making her lightheaded and loopy. She keeps her hand on that wrist; lets her thumb nestle there in the natural, subtle divot. "...You're sure you don't need it back?"

"What? Well! Um. No, actually, you're the guy inviting girls to write on his wrist. If we are splitting hairs."

"No, I don't need it back. I like it right where it is."

"Ah. You got me there." Teddy grinned — he found it very easy to smile around Birdy. "Either way, I think I just need to fact check with Mr. Noodle. And you can fact check with Tilly. I'm sure she'll gossip about how lazy I am in the mornings."

He's staring at her. It seems like, at least, that Teddy was staring at her, and not the looping scrawl at his wrist. Oh! It makes Birdy utterly reluctant to drop his wrist, fingertips lingering at his pulse for one last second. "I can't tell if you're fibbing or if you really believe that. But. It helps that your wrist is so nice. Good to. Hold. And write on, obviously."

"Wow. Well. I mean— I'm not as much as a stranger now. You have my name. And number. And you dreamed me, so. That might count for something. Maybe."

"Do I look like a fibber? Be honest." Teddy looked into Birdy's eyes, sincerely, deeply. "You can hold onto my wrist for as long as you want."

"You're right, but I still have to be cautious. I mean, you're the kinda girl who just writes on peoples wrists..."

Birdy finally allows herself to touch him. Gripping his wrist, carefully, bringing nib to skin, gentle strokes, careful attention to each 'e', the 'd', 't', though she fears it will be wonky regardless. And— done. There. "Uh. Remember how we said we wouldn't get offended? Well. I won't be offended if you think my chicken scratch is totally hideous."

"Oh, gosh. Weird? No! I would not say that. And you're trusting a dog over me, and. I would say soulful. They're really soulful. Not sad."

Teddy was not afraid to admit that he held his breath, the second that Birdy finally touched his skin. It was electric and warm, all at once, and instead of staring at her penmanship, he was staring at her. When she finally finished up, he smiled, swallowed, clearing his throat. "It's beautiful. You have perfect handwriting."

"Well, you're a stranger, but I feel as if I've known Mr. Noodle my whole life, so I'll trust what he has to say."

"Oh, well—" Birdy is forcing open her clutch, fingers scraping against silk lining, pulling out the little fine-point sharpie left near-forgotten at the bottom. Her hand hovers carefully above his wrist, uncertain. It's a very nice arm. "Hah. Do you— uh. Do you really want me to write on your wrist?"

"What! I mean— what else would I have said? You have to meet him. Obviously. But obviously I did say those things about you!"

Teddy watched as Birdy dug through her clutch purse, pulling out a little sharpie. Perfect. "Yes, I really do want you to write on my wrist. Write my name. Please."

"You could've said the weird tall guy with really sad looking brown eyes. You could've said that. I need to fact check."

"You have a lot of faith in my scrawl. Though. I'm guessing I probably like all your 'e's too."

"Hmm. Well. I sort of just called you the mystery gentleman at first, but then Mr. Noodle wanted to know more, so. I said you were tall. And nice. And. Well. Well, I don't know why I phrased it like this, but I said I liked your strong brow. Honestly— I don't even fully remember. So. The word handsome might have been used, but you'd have to ask my dog."

"Maybe you can write something for me. Like my name. Do you have a pen, or a marker?" Teddy patted at his suit, knowing he hadn't packed any pens or markers. He looked around. "You can write it right here," he said, rolling up his sleeve slightly, exposing his wrist. "You can tattoo me."

"My strong brow, huh? I definitely have to meet Mr. Noodle as soon as humanly possible. I need him to tell me what you really said. I don't know if I believe you."

"Hmmm. But 'Bernice' written out in my ugly handwriting? Maybe not even you could stomach that."

"Oh? Yeah? Kind of crazy that both Tilly and him were asking all these questions. We must have said the same to our dogs. I mean. Well! I didn't call you a pretty girl... Obviously I said something different."

"Mmm. No. I think I like it better that it was Bernice and not Birdy. Like, I still love the name Birdy, but I bet you wrote your E's in a really cute way, or something."

"What did you call me?"

"It was somehow both squashed and loopy... if you can still manage to find that cute."

"Well. He asked how you were doing. And I told him I wasn't sure, because I hadn't seen you since. And then I said I didn't know, but I hoped you were alright, and that I hoped you were having fun with Tilly, and I said if we were lucky he might of thought of us too."

"Adorable."

"Ahh. I feel honored that he asked about me. Tilly actually asked about you, too. The pretty girl that I kept dreaming about. She'll be so excited to hear that I found you."

"When I was in the 5th grade my brother told my penmanship looked like a chimp learning to write."

"I feel better with your number in my phone, so. That's really good. Mr. Noodle is good. He asked about you the other day."

"I think chimps are pretty cool. And I bet your handwriting was really cute. What's the problem with that?"

"Really? What did he say? What did you say?"

"You do? That's nice. I think you're like. The first person ever who has liked my full name? Even my mom only named me because it was a family thing. But. Yeah. Yes. We'll reserve Theodore and Bernice. For the very right time."

"Oh! I only came tonight because I wanted to see if you'd show up!"

"I don't think there's anything about you that I could dislike."

"Well. Now we're both here, and we have each other's numbers, so I don't think there's any chance we could lose touch with each other now. How is Mr. Noodle doing?"

"It was, uh. Technically for Bernice," she says, grimacing. "But I feel like I look like a Birdy? My mom says I was really chirpy. As a kid. Like talking a lot." A shrug. She can barely think, with the grin she wears as she extends his phone back. Each name was.... tragically cute. "Oh. Wow. What? Those all suit you— I like them all!"

Blink. Blink. "Oh. Do I? Oh. Thank you. I hope they don't turn the lights out. I only got a very short time to look at your face last time."

"You do look like a Birdy. Very much so. I really like the name. I like Bernice, too, but I think we should save that for really special circumstances, maybe. Same with Theodore."

"You do. I know, I kept thinking about you after that night. I was hoping you'd be here tonight."

She unlocks, exchanges, the sensation of relief as she types 'Birdy.' No matter what happens next— they have numbers. Contact point.

"Oh, gosh. Really? They probably like her owner a lot too."

Birdy's head shakes. Eyes big. "No! I don't think so. No way. Because when I think about you in that other room you looked like this too..."

Teddy entered in his details into Birdy's phone. That was really her name? He loved it.

"Wait, are you really named Birdy? Or is that a nickname? I really like it," Teddy said, quickly clarifying. "I'm Theodore. Or Theo, or Teddy, or Ted, sometimes. I guess you can pick whichever one suits me best."

"Yeah. You don't look the same, though. You look even prettier right now. But I think we could turn all of the lights out, and I'd still think that."

"Oh. Yes. Definitely. You can just take my phone. I was kind of kicking myself too, hah, I was taking my earrings out that night and thinking how dumb I was. Wondering how I could find someone with only a dog's name. That, and. Well. Your physical description."

"I think so too. I kinda read about it on the plaque. They use warm incandescent bulbs so your hair— so hair looks really glossy. And rich. Like in old films."

Teddy pulled out his phone, unlocked it, handing it over. They could exchange information this way. Finally.

"I'm surprised you couldn't locate me. Tilly is a local celebrity at the coffee shop by my apartment."

"Hmm. So this is all just a trick of the light, then?" He gestured to himself.

"Was everything okay? I mean— tell me off if I'm being nosy."

"Super beautiful. The whole mansion was apparently built by a guy who made his fortune off molasses. Which. Strange. But he had really good taste in marble. Everything is kind of glowing in the reflective light."

"Yeah, just a work emergency. I kept beating myself up for not just asking for your number right away. So, I'd like to do that right now, if that's okay."

"Incredible. I had no idea. Everything looks so beautiful. Some things more than others."

"Me either. I walked around the gala last time just in case but I couldn't find you."

"Oh! Yeah? Well. No photographers this time. I just think the architecture in here is nice... kind of Pride and Prejudice-y."

"I'm really sorry about that. I would've come right back if I could."

"You know what, yeah, it sorta is. It's very beautiful in here."

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