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. |
*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.
Hey, will you stay a while.
My smile will not mislead
you,
'Cause I've been alone, my faith turned to stone,
Still there's
something in you, that I believe in,
Close to your pierce,
I go wild and
fierce,
Still I let you be,
I feel you next to me,
'Cause outside I
feel,
A wind it starts to blow,
I'm taken in your undertow.
Everything is fine I'm lonely all the time,
'Cause All I want to do is
be there for the things that you're going through,
Well is it good for you,
Is it good for you.
'Cause you haunt my nights when I don't know where
my life should go,
Well is it good for you,
Is it good for
you.
~Third Eye Blind
Thursday 7:00 A.M. (Morocco)
Oh God. What did I do? Head feels like a lead weight and boy does it hurt. Oooohhhh. Sunlight. Sunlight bad. Ok, now wait. I don’t remember coming to bed, which means either a) I was way more drunk than I thought or b) Orli carried me in here. Think I’ll go with option b, since I clearly remember how many beers I had. Let’s see. Well I’m fully clothed, so at least I don’t have that to worry about. Not that he’s never seen me in my bra and panties, but still. Oh man. Really need to move more slowly. Shower. Maybe a shower will help. That and a single gun shot to the head and I should be good as new.
7:15 A.M.
Ok. I think I may live. Let’s go see if he’s speaking to me today. After the way I treated him, he may never talk to me again and I can’t say that I’d blame him. Hell, I may never talk to me again. Wonder if he’s even here. Hmmm. Not in the living room. Let’s check the kitchen. Yep. I hear something.
Oh_my_God! Would you look at him? He’s got on those black silk pajama bottoms again. Look how they hang down so low on his hips. Yummy. And no shirt. That should be against the law. Look at his back. The way the muscles ripple when he moves. The scar from his surgery doesn't mar the perfection in the slightest, though thinking again of what a close call his fall was makes me shudder slightly. Think I’ll just stand here and enjoy the view for a bit. Nah. Better say something, if for no other reason, I could really use a Dr. Pepper.
"Morning Bloom. Whatcha up to?" He gives a slight start and looks over his shoulder at me with a sly grin.
"Just cooking you breakfast, luv. How’s your head this morning?" He gives me a wink and pops what looks like a slice of mushroom into his mouth.
"Not great, but I think a Dr. Pepper might help," I say, relieved to find him in such a good humor. Maybe he wasn’t as mad as I thought. I was really worried when he stayed gone so long last night. He steps over to the fridge, pulls out a can and pops it open.
As he hands it to me he gives the usual grimace for the contents and says "Here, luv. Maybe you could go and watch some TV while I finish up in here?" I get another wink and a glimpse of his bare chest. How gorgeous is he? Not good for my pulse. Not good at all.
"Sure Orli," I say and wander into the front room to see if I can remember how to work the massive remote control for the TV.
7:30 A.M.
"Come and get it, luv," I hear his husky voice call from the dining room. Now that could definitely be taken two ways, but I’m not feeling especially saucy this morning, so I let it go. As I get over to the table, I see that he’s holding my chair out for me. Normally I’d have some sarcastic remark for this show of chivalry, but I’ve gotten to know Orli well enough to know that it’s just his way. The man was raised with very good manners. Who am I to find fault? He pushes my chair in as I sit down, then moves to the chair opposite me.
"It smells great Orli. Um…What is it?" I ask, looking down at the fluffy substance on my plate.
"That’s a vegetarian omelet, baby. Compliments of yours truly," he replies with a lop-sided grin. He still has no shirt on, and the sight’s a bit distracting, so I try to concentrate on the food.
"Well, if it tastes half as good as it looks, I’m sure it’s wonderful. I wonder if I should have it framed, though. Seeing as how you cooked it and all," I quip, giving him my cheekiest grin.
His eyebrows furrow for a moment and he says, "Just eat, you," then digs into his own omelet. I take a bite and am delighted by the medley of flavors I’m treated to. He’s actually quite a good cook. Glad I’ve never let him talk me into cooking for him. He’d probably die of food poisoning.
"This is delicious, Orli. Really good," I say, taking another bite eagerly.
"Thanks," he says with a small smile and we finish the meal in a comfortable silence. My mind’s now eased about the way I acted yesterday and I’m starting to think this trip may be just what I needed.
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