My Neighbor Is Never This Loud

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 (Name) - Your first name

(L/N) - Your last name

(h/c) - Your hair color

(h/l) - Your hair length

(e/c) - Your eye color

(s/c) - Your skin color

~

"Blunt the knives, bend the forks! Smash the bottles and burn the corks! Chip the glasses and crack the plates!"

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

(Name) (L/N) glared at the wall from which the loud and boisterous singing was resonating from. In her experience, the Bagginses were extremely polite, normal, and definitely un-rambunctious, and (Name) had liked - no, loved it. She loved how cozy her hobbit-hole was, she loved how her parents were almost always on errands, and she loved how she could curl up with a large book and read undisturbed for hours.

"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl! Pound them up with a thumping pole! When you've finished, if any are whole, send them down the hall to roll!"

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

The singing stopped abruptly, and (Name) let out a sigh. What could be even going on next door? Did she even want to know? The (h/c) haired girl couldn't help the tug forcing her to peer out a nearby circular window. Squinting through the darkness, she spotted a figure waiting at Mr. Baggins' front door. He seemed to have long, dark brown hair, and was just a bit too tall to be a hobbit. A thick cloak hung from his back, and (Name) would've almost believed he was a shadow if she didn't know better.

Mr. Baggins' door swung open, and the man stepped inside. The freshly painted door closed right after him. (Name) had to pry her eyes away from the light coming from the windows, and tried to focus on her book. Only after a couple minutes did the teen realize she was reading the same sentence again and again. Her (e/c) tinted gaze fell on the windows again. The light flickered as multiple people passed it. The two hobbit holes were so close together that (Name) could catch a glimpse of long, loosely tied orange hair.

Orange hair? (Name) couldn't help wondering who Mr. Baggins' visitors were. She closed her book reluctantly, slipping the soft, violet ribbon inside the delicate pages, and set it off to the side. The girl slipped out of her cozy, olive colored chair and crept closer to the glass, reverting to a childish habit of worrying she'll be noticed.

"SHAZARA!" someone hollered from inside Bag-End, making (Name) jump back with a squeak. The thundering voice continued to speak, although it wasn't loud enough for the wide-eyed teen to make out the words. She ached to sneak out the door and try to eavesdrop on whomever was speaking, but her parents' voices were clear in her head. You don't leave the hole when we're out, ok, (Name)? You never interfere in others' business. And never ever go on an adventure. Ever.

With a roll of her (e/c) eyes, (Name) picked up her hardcover book and started for her bedroom. "Whatever is going on in Bag-End is Mr. Baggins' business," she stated out loud as she pushed the (f/c) door open. Although that might've been true, (Name) didn't feel completely confident in her declaration as she probably should've been. The tug of curiosity in her gut didn't cease for the rest of the night.

~

It was early when (Name) woke up - maybe 8 or 9 in the morning. After she brushed her teeth and made to leave her room, she noticed a note on the inside of the door.

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