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Sep. 10th, 2007 06:19 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
vatulele.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
vigorliTitle: Watching
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vatulele
Rating: PG-13 (for some angst)
Summary: Orlando likes to watch.
Disclaimer: Sadly a poor girl like me can't own Orlando Bloom or Viggo Mortensen.
A/N: Orlando's POV.
Author:
vatuleleRating: PG-13 (for some angst)
Summary: Orlando likes to watch.
Disclaimer: Sadly a poor girl like me can't own Orlando Bloom or Viggo Mortensen.
A/N: Orlando's POV.
I hardly ever get to watch anymore. Not like I used to. When I was younger, God that seems like a long time ago, I sat inside coffe shops, or outside on the streets watching the people go by. Then as fast as you can say International Sex Symbol, I wasn't able to do it anymore.
Seems like every fucking time I step out the door, people are shouting my name and camera flashes are going off. Then once I get past them the mobile rings and I have to answer to this person and that person, and, 'Oh Orlando, you'll be flying to Los Angeles tomorrow, you're bags are already packed."
But right now, it's just me and Viggo sitting in a little hole in the wall cafe at dusk watching the street outside bustle with people going home, and watching the pople inside relax, drink their coffe, and talk to one annother. No ones bothered to talk to us, and I'm glad, this is my time to share what I find so special about this.
I'm nursing my cup of tea wiping my stains off the white, ceramic rim, Viggo's stirring his coffee even though he already mixed in sugar. No cream, he likes the sweet bitterness of coffe with only sugar, cream dillutes the power. The little spoon makes little clinking noises against the ceramic almost in time with the jazz caressing out of the speakers.
I look at the young girls behind the counter cleaning up coffee grinds and flavored syrup spills. They giggle and talk to one annother quietly, not wanting to disturb us while we drink our assorted drinks. An old man drinks a mango smoothie, a mother and her daughter drink identical coffee shakes with whipped cream except the girls is decaf and the moutain of whipped cream has chocolate drizzled over it. I grab Viggo's hand. 'Thank you.' I say. He nodds and pushes the long strands of fake hair behind my ear and gives me a kiss.
After we're done I wipe a smudge of lipstick off his bottom lip. "Don't wan't your boyfriend thinking you're screwing arround on him do you?"
Seems like every fucking time I step out the door, people are shouting my name and camera flashes are going off. Then once I get past them the mobile rings and I have to answer to this person and that person, and, 'Oh Orlando, you'll be flying to Los Angeles tomorrow, you're bags are already packed."
But right now, it's just me and Viggo sitting in a little hole in the wall cafe at dusk watching the street outside bustle with people going home, and watching the pople inside relax, drink their coffe, and talk to one annother. No ones bothered to talk to us, and I'm glad, this is my time to share what I find so special about this.
I'm nursing my cup of tea wiping my stains off the white, ceramic rim, Viggo's stirring his coffee even though he already mixed in sugar. No cream, he likes the sweet bitterness of coffe with only sugar, cream dillutes the power. The little spoon makes little clinking noises against the ceramic almost in time with the jazz caressing out of the speakers.
I look at the young girls behind the counter cleaning up coffee grinds and flavored syrup spills. They giggle and talk to one annother quietly, not wanting to disturb us while we drink our assorted drinks. An old man drinks a mango smoothie, a mother and her daughter drink identical coffee shakes with whipped cream except the girls is decaf and the moutain of whipped cream has chocolate drizzled over it. I grab Viggo's hand. 'Thank you.' I say. He nodds and pushes the long strands of fake hair behind my ear and gives me a kiss.
After we're done I wipe a smudge of lipstick off his bottom lip. "Don't wan't your boyfriend thinking you're screwing arround on him do you?"
