"..you know i'm such a...
fool for you...
you've got me...
wrapped around your finger
..do you have to let it linger?"
--"Linger" by The Cranberries
He tries to speak evenly, calm and in character. He doesn�t want you to know how his skin is humming and charged as you get closer to him. That he's really as relieved as he looks because just the thought of what you've supposedly been through is enough to make him feel a deep pain he'd not known he could feel. He didn't want you to be able to tell how much he needed to put his arms around you, know how insufficient the contact was. Tries to smile cryptically, look like the knowing friend as he hands you your love's talisman, doesn't linger his hand on yours as much as he wants. But it's enough to make his blood sing, his throat catch so he's glad to keep silent. He doesn't want to come off as a love-sick puppy, though he knows that's closer to the truth than he likes to admit even in the quietest corners of his mind.
Words that are clamoring inside his head are none that he'd dare say out loud. Words like love and need and want. He resisted shaking his head.
When you walk off the set together to your shared trailer, he seems preoccupied. You wonder if you should say something�and if so, what?
You're taken by a sudden strong curiosity, to just know. His eyes have a distant look in them mixed with something else. You're surprised at the pang of what you know is jealousy in yourself when you recognize that look as longing. You're familiar with that feeling after all. Longing for someone, the elf boy is.
You wonder who it could be, and suddenly the words you didn't have before fall off your tongue without you realizing what they were.
"Who is it?" you're biting your tongue, chagrined, but you need to know. The look in his eyes as they clear, meeting yours, is confused.
"Who is what?" he licks his lips, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, hoping the Aragorn stubble will hide it.
"�Vig?" he's watching you now, and you note with amazement that what you'd thought was longing is still there. And again you've acted without knowing because suddenly you're so close to Orlando you're slightly dizzy, but you lean forward anyway, your hand gripping his jaw, firm but gentle.
"Is it me?" Orlando's eyes widen as color shows through the pale make-up on his cheeks, and in that moment you know.
You have to do this, though you'll berate yourself later because this couldn't possibly be happening�
You lean in even closer, close enough to brush your lips against his as he sighs, a warm hand wrapping around the back of your neck.
"�Yes."