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Flying With Eagles	By : Zar Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 10191 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Orlando Bloom. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Title: Flying with Eagles
Author: Zar
Email: zarakan@hotmail.com
LJ: http://www.livejournal.com/users/squishypiglet/
Warnings: This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it!
Pairings: Viggorli with special guest Eric Bana.
Disclaimer: This is not true, despite all my wishes.
Summary: The inevitable appearance of my favourite Thornton’s Chocolates, a chocolate for all occasions!...

Chapter 29

You won’t believe where I am right now. Even I can’t believe where I am right now.

I am currently standing in front of counter 53 at Section C of Terminal 3 in Heathrow Airport…where I am watching my god trying to bargain with the attendant about why his luggage is so much heavier than everyone else’s.

He’s beautiful as always, but knowing that I am won’t be seeing him again makes the sight all the more cherished and dear to me. The way he’s purposefully giving the smitten woman a lopsided grin and a bashful flutter of the lashes…the way his foot is gently kicking the counter, one of his slender hands running carelessly through his curls to draw attention to their bounce and colour. My prince is astonishingly enticing, but it is his innocence of the act that draws people to him.

As expected, he gets away with almost 55 kg of baggage without a fine or even a warning – he has about 30 kg over the allocated limit. The besotted attendant at the counter is still staring after us and waving even as we’re walking away. That perfect face could get away with murder, I tell you.

Orlando has his arm around my waist and is snuggled against my side as close as humanly possible. His ‘brother’, the infamous Leopard-man is for once, not making snide comments or trying to keep us apart, but has rather left us be. Well, he should be pleased with himself, his ‘younger brother’ was swayed and in an hour forty-five minutes, they’ll both be on a plane flying miles away from me. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my misery and disappointment, but it’s so hard keeping a smile on my face, if only for my angel’s sake.

We go upstairs to the departure gates and sort of stand there for a moment. Before Orlando even has to open his mouth, Leopard-man has caught the subtle hint and murmurs something about buying chocolate before heading off to the Thornton’s across from us. So that leaves me with Orlando. For probably, the last time.

“Wanna get coffee?”

That’s the only thing I can think of to say to him and holding onto me tighter, he shakes his head.

“Orlando?”

Another shake of the head.

Well, we can’t just stand here in the middle of the crowd and let people push around us. I nudge him over to the Starbucks and with a resigned sigh, he lets me lead him over to an empty table.

My poor angel seems sort of in a shock as he is seated and his crutch is put an arm’s length away. Making sure he is comfortable, I move over to the counter to get him coffee and probably something sweet to give a little sugar kick. I want to see him bouncy and cheerful again, not upset like now.

Getting the coffee gives me an extra five minutes tt tot together a last argument to convince Orlando he needs to stay in London. With me. He can’t go.

Steeling my resolve, I pick up the two coffees swimming in sugar and milk. It’s hard to keep a grip on them since my hands are shaking and I squeeze them harder to try and hide it.

“Viggo!”

Orlando is pulling the coffee from me and fussing with napkins. It seems I had clutched the flimsy cups too hard and the hot liquid had overflowed. Weird. It doesn’t burn. I don’t think many things will touch me anymore. I’ve already started to close myself off from the world.

“You remember the way I like my coffee…”

The softly spoken words bring me back to the present and I drag my eyes up to see Orlando holding his cup in both his hands, a pout marring his face.

“Of course I do. You like it the way I do.”

“That’s right. The same.”

There is nothing to say for a bit and we’re both quietly sipping at our drinks, his hand warm in mine. I wonder if he can feel the shaking I have not been able to repress.

“It’s so ironic…”

I have to stop blanking out. If this is our last few moments together, I want to make the most of them, not spend them sitting together but miles away. That is going to happen too soon as it is.

“What is, muffin?”

“Everything between us starts and ends with coffee. We’re having our last meeting now, again, over coffee. Do you…remember the first time we met? That was over coffee too.”

The memory makes me smile.

“It was over an Oscar Wilde muffin as well.”

“That’s right. You were smiling at Mandy while leaning against the counter. I hadn’t realised it was one of your first times there, you were so comfortable in the café. I remember thinking to myself, ‘this man is so comfortable with himself, I wish I could be more like that.’ I couldn’t just let you walk away from me.”

I didn’t want to cry. I had promised myself I wouldn’t. But it’s hard when I am sitting opposite this amazing man telling me how special he thinks I am. I don’t deserve him.

It’s nearly impossible to answer so I settle on nodding at him. He understands what I can’t say and grips my hand tighter.

“It took guts to go up to you…you know that, Viggo? I don’t know what made me just get up and talk to you…especially quoting Wilde. Thinking back now, how pretentious must that have seemed?” he laughs, but it sounds a little more like a choked sob.

“It wasn’t pretentious at all. It was perfect. You were perfect. You still are.”

There’s silence as I drink in the sight of him. It makes me wish I had insisted on taking pictures of him before I left – something to hold onto when the original isn’t around. But I had decided not to in the end; a picture can not convey the love I always see reflected in his eyes, the warmth of his smile or the delighted ring of his laughter. No…it is better to have them locked in my memory for slow and thorough perusal when he is no longer by my side. No plastic film and harsh flash can ever capture his perfection.

“Or what about the time we met that girl on the bridge?”

“Kate. And her dog Araborn,” is the prompt reply.

It’s endearing how he’s scowling at the mention of her name, but grinning when he’s reminded of the hyper little puppy.

“Yes…except her name isn’t important to me. What I remember is the way you frolicked with her dog, laughed when he nipped at your fingers, chuckled when he tripped over his own feet…how the wind played with your curls, and made you squint when the sun shone too brightly. Those are the things I remember.”

His eyes are glistening tellingly and he tries to smile at me.

“What about when I almost fainted in your apartment? That was embarrassing…I always blush when I think about it. I am so girly…”

“That’s not true at all, muffin. That was one of the first times I felt so protective of anyone in my life. All I wanted to do was comfort and protect you, hug and pet you…”

“I like being protected by you, though!” he protests.

“…and wrap you safely in cotton.”

“Hey!”

“You make me feel these things, Orlando. These…strong, overpowering feelings I can’t control.”

He looks down but I hear his next words strike a chord in me.

“I feel the same.”

I can’t hold back. Not now. Leaning forward, I grasp both of his hands in mine and look imploringly at my god.

“Then don’t go. Stay.”

“Viggo…we’ve been over this on and off all week. You know I can’t.”

“You can. It’s easy. Just leave with me now. We’ll grab a cab back to Paradise and we’ll stay there. Together. We’ll be happy.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t leave Eric.”

“You’re a grown man as you mentioned before, muffin. Don’t let him decide for you. Make your own decisions.”

He seems to think on this for a moment, worrying on his bottom lip. He suddenly exhales loudly and I know I have my answer.

“I am sorry, Viggo. You know I would give anything to stay with you…”

I look away and he pulls his hands from mine to cup my cheek soothingly before gently stroking a finger over the huge purple bruise over my face. I know he wants me to look at him, but I couldn’t bear the sight right now. There is a soft kiss to my cheek as he then leans his forehead against mine.

“You know in your heart, I would stay with you. You can feel it too.”

There is nothing else to say. But there had never been any doubt that Orlando would have picked Leopard-man. He’s been hurt too badly before and now that he’s found a protector and a safe place with him, hnot not going to give all that up for me. He’s decided not to take the risk of love with me, but instead, stays with his ‘brother’s’ secure love and friendship.

I wish I could have convinced him that I was worth taking the leap into the unknown, that I would have given anything to protect and love him…but this is probably the best step for him. And that is all I can wish for him – the best.

A throat being cleared pulls us apart again, though our hands seek each other out. Leopard-man is standing by our table but studiously looking away. I guess it’s time for him to leave.

One kiss.

Two.

Three.

How can I stop when each one could be the last? I’ve kept my tears in at this point, I don’t want him to know how badly he’s broken and hurt me. I’ll be strong for him till the last.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Leopard-man hasn’t said a word, but I know we’re cutting it close. He’s standing a little distance away from us and the departure gate to give us privacy but right now, I couldn’t care less. Orlando is clinging to me and though he’s hiding his face, he can’t conceal the shuddering sobs.

“It’s better this way, muffin…”

“Call me that once more, before I leave,” he interrupts.

“Call you what?”

“Call me…muffin.”

Have I still been calling him that? I thought I had stopped. Obviously, I was wrong.

“Muffin…”

My prince pulling away from my arms now and smiling, though his eyes are red and his eyelashes are sticking tellingly together. There are damp marks on his cheeks and his curls are rumpled. His nose is running slightly and his uses the back of his hand to rub carelessly at it.

He’s never looked more perfect.

“Don’t forget me, Viggo…”

As if I possibly could.

“I’ll miss you.”

Leopard-man takes that as his cue and moves over to stand behind Orlando in support as my god seems to grow physically frailer despite the aid of his crutch. We stare at each other long and hard over my angel’s shoulder and he nods firmly at me. He’ll make sure my prince will be alright. I can trust him on that.

“Good bye, Viggo…and thank you.”

“Take care of him, Eric.”

Probably the first and last time I’ll ever address him by name. We’re finally on the same page and he’s just about to leave. Talk about life’s twists.

A second’s glimpse is all I am granted before Orlando is led away from me. He is stumbling and tripping over his feet and the crutch as he refuses to face forward, instead keeping his eyes focused and gazing into mine.

Eric is pressing a small bag of Thornton’s chocolates into my prince’s hand, as if to distract him. I suppose he had the same idea about the sugar rush…we’re more alike than I care to admit, and it is never more obvious than in our devotion to the same man.

One last hint of chocolate, hazel fringed sad eyes…and then my god is gone forever.

A lone tear makes its way slowly down my cheek, clearing the path for the many more I know I will be crying from today onwards.

“Goodbye, muffin…I love you.”

TBC...

Finally found that aff is working again! So...here are all the new chapters at once. Hope you guys enjoyed it! =) Bet you weren't expecting Orli to leave, hmm?
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Flying With Eagles