vigorli

Title: Ficlette: Destiny is Calling Me
Author: Rutaari
Pairing: Bugs Bunny/Elmer Fudd
Rating: G
Summary: Will Orlando follow his mind? Or his heart?

Rain is a cleansing thing. Once it rains, all the problems and unclarities of life seem to be washed away, and the world is thrown back into perspective. It was unfortunate that the clouds above waited until I was standing on the altar to break through and bring me the answers to the doubt which I had questioned, and as I stood there with her soft, delicate hands entwined within mine, her hopeful and expectant face smiling eagerly back at me, I realized that what I was doing was wrong. There was a long silence as my answer was withheld.

"…sir?" The preacher asked, waiting for my response.

I remained silent.

"Orlando." Kate’s smile had fallen and she muttered at me under her breath and gave my hands a squeeze.

"I’m sorry, Kate." I said haltingly, letting her hands fall from mine. "I’m sorry. This isn’t right." And before anyone could stop me I was running down the aisle and out the church doors. What was I doing? I asked myself. You stupid bloke! What the hell are you doing leaving that beautiful, wonderful girl standing there alone? But I knew… I knew what I was doing. I was doing what was right. Standing there with Katie had not felt right. Not at all.

Feet slapped pavement like open palms on water, fast and steady as I splashed through pothole-ponds and leaped off curbs and only breaking rhythm to dodge the occasional taxi or random black car. Shoulders slammed into tourists but I did not stop, did not hesitate. Leaping hedges I sprinted my way across the soft, moist grass of the famous Park, while ripping the constricting noose of fate from my neck and tearing off the heavy cuffs along my sleeves. The top two buttons on my tuxedo blouse popped off and landed somewhere in my wake among the gravel of the Bridlepath as I carefully avoided several large horses and their confused riders.

My muscles pleaded for mercy, my lungs begging for a respite from their aching work. I would hear no such request. More people, all of different origins and creed dodged out of the way as I bolted down the street, shoving through the swarms of gatherers all standing outside because they had no money to actually buy what they coveted. I was thankful for the throng of people in that it kept the press away for long enough… long enough for me to run to what did feel right.

The spinning doors of the hotel continued to wheel as I broke through like a horse from the starting gate, huffing and struggling to find breath.

"I need…" I panted, but the desk clerk knew who I was looking for.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Bloom, he had somewhere to be this afternoon." The boy said.

"Bollocks."I swore. "He didn’t go." And I knew it was true, because there was no way you would be seen watching me give myself to another.

Ignoring the calls of the bellboy I sprinted for the stairs, thinking the elevator far too time consuming. First floor… second floor… third… fourth… fifth… sixth! And down the hall… room six-twenty… six-twenty-two… six-twenty-four… six-twenty-six!!!

"Viggo!" I pounded on your door, determined to get you to answer. "Viggo put down that cheap American shite you call beer and get your arse off that couch and to this door!" Nothing. "VIGGO!"

And suddenly it was open, and nothing was standing in my way. Nothing was in the way of you and me… nothing stopping me from throwing myself into your strong arms and pressing my lips to yours, wrapping my arms around your neck and tangling my fingers into your hair, my legs encompassing your waist as if to hold on for all of eternity.

"…why?…" You can’t seem to find words.

"It wasn’t right." I answered breathlessly. "It was never right."

‘But I thought… I thought you… loved… her…" Yet you still hold me tight in your arms.

"Oh Viggo… it’s you. It’s you I love. It always has been."

And your lips were on mine again, a strong, passionate kiss that told me exactly what I needed to know.

This was was most definitely right.