#rofin

“But of course,” Tino chirped, “the Moomins are a lovable childhood memory for so many people, including myself.”

“Childhood, adolescence, adulthood.” Alin smiled at him. Tino didn’t give a single solitary fuck about what people thought of him, just like Alin, which was why neither cared if people stared when two grown adults- one stout and short with the ugliest Christmas jumper, the other tall, lanky and looking like a reject from Blood on the Dance Floor- squeezed up the thin wooden steps with a fair bit of difficulty.

“This was a great shop to visit,” Alin commented, looking around the empty hallway with its murals of the Moomin characters themselves. Tino shook his head.

“Through here,” he almost sang, pulling Alin through a little doorway to the most cramped room the man had ever set foot in, every inch of the place covered in anything Moomin, from clothes to cutlery to giant cuddly toys of Moomintroll himself.

Tino’s wider form was having trouble navigating the place more so than Alin’s matchstick one, though neither were helped by the fact that the place was jam-packed with tourists with little to no sense of personal space. He just hoped nothing breakable was knocked to the floor, because the prices made him want to weep.

Thank goodness Tino was quite well off, or he’d probably be crying on Alin’s shoulder by now.

That being said...

“Don’t go overboard,” he warned.

“Why on earth would I do that?” Tino replied innocently. If innocent was spelt like ‘satan’. In fact, as he was speaking, his hand reached for a t shirt with Little My sitting on a log. Okay, not too bad so far, Alin reasoned before Tino dashed off in a whirlwind of overexcitement and a very loose wallet.

“You don’t need baubles,” Alin despaired, “Christmas isn’t for four whole months.”

“I think you mean ‘oh no, Christmas is only four months away’,” Tino replied with a worried look. “I have only done a fraction of my shopping, and not even started making the Christmas pudding. Ugh I’m so behind...”

“You’re fanatical.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Tino scolded, “so you can drag me to every astrology shop in Soho but the moment I want to talk about Christmas it’s too much?”

There was a pause before Alin replied. “You said they smelt nice. You even bought incense.”

“Oh they were absolutely heavenly,” agreed Tino, “but do you really need a fifth crystal ball?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“Then I need this guy.” And with that, Tino strode over to the biggest cuddly Moomin in the shop, an enormous thing that needed his own swing as he couldn’t fit onto any of the shelves, and gave him a tight hug.

“Seriously?”

“I want him.”

Alin glanced at the label. “Ninety nine pounds? Do you know how much vodka you can buy for that?”

“Oooh, that’s a point! We’ll need to stock up on vodka before we get home. Oh, and I’m keeping this guy.”

“You’re not gonna put him at the end of your bed, are you?” Alin eyed the thing suspiciously, “because that’s gonna creep me out big time.”