watersword: Keira Knightley, in Pride and Prejudice (2007), turning her head away from the viewer, the word "elizabeth" written near (Default)
[personal profile] watersword posting in [community profile] vigorli
Title: The Message
Author: Élizabeth de l'Epée et du Mot de l'Eau [livejournal.com profile] watersword
Fandom: RPF
Pairing, Characters: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Series: None.
Rating: G
Archive: Only if you ask, please.
Warnings: Angst.
Spoilers: None.
Timeframe: Present-day.
Summary: The message comes through. Every time.
Disclaimer: This work is complete and total fiction. The author does not know Orlando Bloom or Viggo Mortensen and is making no claims about their sexualities or relationship(s). No money is being made and no disrespect, copyright, or trademark infringement is intended.
Crossposted to: [livejournal.com profile] watersword (friendsfiltered post) and [livejournal.com profile] vigorli.
Notes: Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] hija_paloma for her help.

A man lay deeply asleep on a couch stained with paint, and spilled drinks, and one memorable encounter between a jar of canned tomatoes and an organic Hungarian seaweed facial mask. A tattered paperback dangled from his fingers, and when he stirred, it dropped silently to the floor, scattering pages like memories.

A phone rang in the next room, but he did not hear. The message on the answering machine unreeled, unhurried, uninterested, and he mumbled at the sharp beep that split the air. It was only at the sound of the caller's voice that his eyes slitted open against the late afternoon sunlight, and after a few words, his mouth twitched. Almost a smile, or a grimace, but not large enough to be either.

"Hi, Vig," the voice from however many miles away said. "It's me, I guess you're out, just like the last couple times I called. Sorry to miss you again, I miss you, that sounds stupid, call me, okay? Just –" there was a pause, and the sound of an indrawn breath, and then the man on the other end continued, "Nothing new to tell you about. Johnny says hello. I – I've got to go."

The man closed his eyes when his caller hung up, and appeared to doze again. It was long minutes later that he whispered, "I love you too."

He had not been out when Orlando had called before; he had listened to the messages as they were being left. The first time, he had almost picked up just as Orlando had said goodbye, but his hand had been a split second too late. He'd missed his cue, or rather, it had not been given, and only the dial tone had greeted him.

The second time, he had listened from the other side of the kitchen table, as though it were a shield. As though three feet of pine between him and the thin thread of tape that held magnetic proof of Orlando's words would be enough to protect him. Afterwards, he had gone outside, to where the tomato plants were just beginning to show green buds, and savagely torn up the weeds surrounding them.

This had been the third time. He did not want there to be a fourth.












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