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Always Be Here	By : dawnenab Category: Individual Celebrities > Orlando Bloom Views: 4615 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
**Disclaimer: I do not know Orlando Bloom. I have no knowledge of him personally and this is simply a work of fiction... Strictly my imagination here folks. If you do not see him this way, then do not continue to read. I make no profit from this, and it is written for my own enjoyment, and hopefully that of others.

Pairings: Orli/OFC Het Fic

This story is rated
NC-17 for heavy use of strong language as well as future
scenes.

Everything's so blurry
and everyone's so fake
and
everybody's empty
and everything is so messed up
pre-occupied without
you
I cannot live at all
My whole world surrounds you
I stumble then I
crawl

You could be my someone
you could be my scene
you know that
I'll protect you
from all of the obscene
I wonder what you're
doing
imagine where you are
there's oceans in between us
but that's not
very far

~Puddle of Mudd

Chapter 5
Thursday 7:45 A.M. Morocco Time
Her plane’s here. Can’t believe how simple it is to make things happen now. One quick phone call and, poof, everything’s arranged, just to my liking. Heady stuff, that. It’s one of the reasons I need her here. She won’t let me forget that I’m just, well, me. Just Orli. Just a guy that’s lucky enough to get paid to do what he loves.
She’s gonna laugh at this sign. I probably should’ve written her real name, but she’s baby to me, and always will be. At least there’s not likely to be anyone else here holding a sign that says ‘Baby’ on it. Ok. The passengers are de-boarding now. Where is she? No. No. No. She better not’ve missed the flight. No. There she is. Damn. She’s more beautiful than I remembered. I love it when she wears her hair loose. Look at the way the morning sunlight catches in the strands.
She’s so unaware of her beauty. I think that’s what’s so attractive. She doesn’t even notice that every man here is watching her. She moves with an easy grace and confidence, but it’s totally natural, not phony like most women in LA. What she does for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, most women would need an evening gown to achieve. Now. Between you and me? I’m the only one who can tell that she’s about one second away from panic.
See how she’s worrying her lower lip? That means that she’s just about convinced herself that no one’s come to meet her. Guess I’d better make myself a bit more conspicuous. Now she sees me. Good. She’s surprised to see me, and pleasantly unless I miss my guess.
"Hiya baby," I say, grinning at her warmly.
"Why, Mr. Bloom. How’d I rate having you come to pick me up? Have the crew and staff all taken ill? That’s the only reason I can think of for a person of your celebrity to be sent out running errands." My smile fades. She gives herself absolutely no credit.
"I’m here because I want to be, baby. And you’re not an errand." I can’t hide my irritation at her lack of self-worth.
"You knew I was coming?" she asks, the shock evident in her voice.
"Of course I did, luv. I’m the one who arranged it. Didn’t Fi tell you?" I ask with a curious smile. Obviously not, given her wide-eyed expression.
She tries to appear casual as she quips, "Nope. Must’ve slipped her mind."
Uh oh. I’ve heard that edge in her voice before. Maybe I should call Fi and warn her. No. I think this is best left between the two of them. Wonder why Fi didn’t tell her? Oh well. I’m sure she thought she had a good reason. She’s a crazy old bird sometimes. Probably thinks she’s part of some grand romantic scheme. She’s got a tendency to want to play cupid sometimes.
"Well, I have four enormous bags besides this one. Do they have luggage carts here?" she asks sweetly. She’s so self-sufficient and used to doing for herself that she hasn’t even tried to give me her bag and it looks like it weighs a ton. I reach out and slip the bag from her shoulder, noting how soft the skin on her upper arm is.
I slip the strap over my own shoulder as I tell her "No worries, baby. Someone will come by to pick up your things in a bit. They’ll be delivered to the suite soon. You must be tired from your flight. Why don’t we head to the hotel so you can freshen up and rest a bit?" I tuck the ‘Baby’ sign under the arm that I’m carrying the bag on and offer her my other arm saying , "C’mon. Car’s this way."
She takes my arm and we head off to the taxi I’ve left waiting outside. She’s looking around, trying to blend with the scenery. Luckily I was able to get here unnoticed by the media.
8:10 P.M. Morocco Time
You should see her face. The hotel is beautiful, but I’m enjoying seeing it through her eyes. As much as she seems jaded about some things, she has a purity that is so rare in this business. She is smiling with such genuine happiness that it’s hard for me to breathe when I look at her. I’ve already arranged her check-in, so all I need to do is pick up her key card. I tell the desk clerk to have the maid unpack baby’s things as soon as they arrive from the airport. I intend to make sure she’s waited on and spoiled as much as possible during this visit.
I turn back to see her watching me intently so I give her a wide grin and say "This way, luv." leading her to the private lift in the hall to the left of the desk. This is the only access to the private suites, and it offers a bit of security. I’m no Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise, but the scrutiny can get a bit intense at times. Did you see that smile she just gave me? That’s what I was talking about before. Sometimes she drops her guard and she’s just... Radiant. I press the button for the fourteenth floor and take off the dark glasses and wool hat I wore to the airport. She glances over and I can’t help but be self-conscious.
"I must look a sight. Had to go to the airport straight away, and didn’t have a chance to shower."
She wears a charmingly wicked smile as she says, "I thought I smelled something, Bloom."
I laugh aloud and reply "Well, I intend to remedy that as soon as we reach our rooms," Her eyes widen.
"Um, we’re sharing?" she asks in that dazzlingly innocent way of hers.
"Not precisely, baby, though if I’d known you’d be open to the idea…" I can’t resist the impulse to tease her, and I let the innuendo hang in the air.
The choked gasp that she utters tells me that she’s taken me seriously, and I reach out and touch her elbow gently and say "Relax, baby. It’s a huge, full suite of rooms. We’ll only be sharing the common rooms. You have your own bedroom and bathroom. Completely private, I assure you." I can actually feel the tension leave her body as the words sink in. The doors to the lift glide open and I step out into the hall. She follows me out and to the left and I stop in front of the suite we’ll be sharing. Number 1437.
I use the key card to open the door on the right and step back, allowing her to go in ahead of me. She is very taken with the room. It’s almost hard to believe that she’s been in some of the poshest rooms in Beverly Hills. Her smile is beatific. Wait till she sees her own rooms. I selected this suite with her in mind. Her rooms are extraordinary and the colors will only enhance her fair beauty.
"Beautiful, really beautiful Orli." she murmurs.
She’s so pre-occupied with the room that she’s got no idea it’s her I’m looking at as I say "Yes…" I quickly cover with a smile when she looks over at me, then I say "Well, you’ll want to freshen up I’m sure. Your room’s this way, luv." Walking over I grandly throw open the doors and present her with her bedroom.
She walks in, and I don’t think I can describe how her reaction makes me feel. I feel like I’ve given her something precious instead of showing her a bloody hotel room. As her gaze takes in the room, it finally rests on the bed. The four-post creation is set up on a riser, making it the center of attention.
She giggles and runs over, jumping onto the bed and says, "This is amazing. Is it really for me? Just for me?" she asks. She’s adorable.
"Yes, baby. All for you." I reply, with more emotion than I’d intended. I smile to cover the slip and walk over to set her bag on the bed next to her. "You take your time and enjoy it. I’m off to shower myself. See you in a bit, baby." On impulse I pause in front of her and plant a kiss on the end of her nose. The urge to do more is nearly impossible to ignore, but I manage.
Quite glad I did too, since her next words are "See you in a bit, Orli. Go shower. You’re killing me over here." She pinches her nose, implying that I stink. Rolling my eyes at her, I turn and go. I have to turn back to her in order to pull the doors closed, and I smile at her again as she falls back onto that big bed. As the doors close I’m haunted by the image of her all alone on that bed, and it’s all I can do not to burst in and join her there.
Yeah. Shower. Cold shower.
10:15 P.M. Morocco Time
I know I promised to leave her to herself. That’s what this whole trip is about, but she’s been in there for two hours. What in the hell is she doing? C’mon Bloom. She’s relaxing. That’s what she’s supposed to be doing, remember? Damn. I can’t take it. I have to go and check on her. Just want to be sure she’s ok. I knock lightly on the outer door; she may have fallen asleep. No answer. I peek in. She’s not in the bed. Thank God. There’s a soft glow of light coming from the bathroom. Hmmm. Taking a bath? For two hours? Better make sure she hasn’t drowned. I can see trying to explain that to Fi…
"Um, Fi? Yeah, baby’s drowned in the hotel bathtub…"
I shudder at the thought. As I approach the bathroom door I hear soft music drifting from the room. So, she’s discovered some of the perks of the suite, has she? God. Do you smell that? Pleasures. She always wears it. Can’t smell that fragrance now without her face coming to mind. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, picturing her there in that marble tub. Likely a bubble bath too. The mental image is a bit too strong so I knock. No response.
I knock again, louder this time and say "Baby? You ok in there?"
At first I don’t hear anything, then there’s a startled splashing sound followed by "I’m fine Orli. Be out in a sec" I hear the sleep in her voice and can easily picture her there. Naked, wet and sleepy-eyed.
"Do you have any idea how long you’ve been in there, luv?" I ask, immediately wishing I could have the words back. She doesn’t respond well to anything that even resembles being told what to do or how to do it. If I hadn’t been lost in a daydream of her, I’d never have said it.
"Didn’t know there was a time-limit, Bloom. I know I said I’d be out in a sec, but if you’re using a stop watch then I’ll be a bit longer than that," she says, much as I’d expected. Ouch! I’d known the response would be bad, but not that venomous. Damn. Now I’ve pissed her off. Great. Way to go Bloom.
I mumble "Sorry," softly and leave the room. I quickly scrawl a note on a sheet of hotel stationery and head out the door. Hopefully she’ll be in a better mood later.
3:30 A.M. Morocco Time
God I hope she’s not still mad at me. I think I stayed out long enough. Well, we’ll see right now, won’t we? Ok. So she’s figured out how to work the tele. A little loud though, isn’t it? An info-mercial? Ahhh. She’s fallen asleep. I look down over the back of the leather sectional, and I’m struck by her angelic face. Wow! Somebody’s been at the beer. One…two…six?! She can’t weigh more than a hundred ten pounds. Must’ve passed out. Serves her right. I should leave her right where she is. No. She’s taken care of me when I was drunk. At least she thought I was drunk. Ok. Time for bed, luv. I walk around to the other side of the sofa, stopping to turn off the TV and bend down and scoop her into my arms.
Light as a feather, she nuzzles into my embrace, snuggling her face into the hollow of my neck. Oh my God! Hadn’t expected this. I can’t stifle my groan as I carry her into her bedroom. I walk over and up the steps to the bed, then bend down and gently lay her on the mattress. She murmurs something softly in her sleep, but I can’t make out what she’s said. I take my arms from around her and sit back on my heels to watch her sleep for a minute. A strand of hair has fallen down across her face, so I reach out and smooth it back. My fingers brush her cheek and I marvel again at how soft she is. The texture’s like silk. She stirs a bit, snuggling into the mattress as though she’s cold. I’ll get the quilt for her. I unfold it and spread it over her, tucking it close to her sides.
"Goodnight, luv," I murmur quietly and turn to leave. I cast one more glance over my shoulder then close the door behind me. Really think I need another shower.
Yes. Another cold shower. Seems to be happening a lot all of a sudden…
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Always Be Here