ext_38162 (
onewhiteglove.livejournal.com) wrote in
fellowshippers2004-08-09 08:17 pm
Voyeur - EW/OB
Such a little thing. My very first.
Title: Voyeur
Author:
onewhiteglove
Pairing: Elijah/Orlando, possibly unrequited.
Rating: Very PG.
Summary: Elijah stashes Orlando away, in thin black boxes.
WARNING: None
Feedback: Sure.
Archive: If you want.
Disclaimer: If I knew them, or owned them, or had them on a leash in my bedroom, I would not be writing this.
Elijah watches Orlando's interviews on television when he can; and if he can't, he gets someone to tape them for him. He now has a collection -- he tries hard not to think of it as a shrine -- a collection of black videotapes, slipped into a box that sits incongruously on the bottom shelf of his wardrobe; unlabelled, unobserved, unnamed. Inconspicuous, really. He likes to think of them as mechanical slivers of Orli; solid black slices of evidence; memory boxes.
He likes to watch the way Orli moves his silver-and-leather ringed hands as he talks, running pink nails through thick dark scruff; likes to watch the curve of his jaw and the smooth plane of his neck; likes to watch his brows twitch and lift and his eyes grow bright and his grin widen; likes to hear the clipped, boyish British inflections and carefree lavish affections of his speech.
In one interview, he mentions Elijah. Elijah likes to watch him fling his hands around as he talks excitedly; sweet, unselfconscious Orli talking about his friends and all the fun they had together. His voice deepens and his words run together and there is a giggle dancing behind each word, and love seeps out through the pauses.
"Elijah," he says -- Elijah likes the way his mouth works around his name -- "Elijah is crazy, alright, but was never quite as crazy as the rest of us. He never wanted to skydive. He just liked to watch."
Elijah carefully stashes that tape in with the others.
---fin.
Title: Voyeur
Author:
Pairing: Elijah/Orlando, possibly unrequited.
Rating: Very PG.
Summary: Elijah stashes Orlando away, in thin black boxes.
WARNING: None
Feedback: Sure.
Archive: If you want.
Disclaimer: If I knew them, or owned them, or had them on a leash in my bedroom, I would not be writing this.
Elijah watches Orlando's interviews on television when he can; and if he can't, he gets someone to tape them for him. He now has a collection -- he tries hard not to think of it as a shrine -- a collection of black videotapes, slipped into a box that sits incongruously on the bottom shelf of his wardrobe; unlabelled, unobserved, unnamed. Inconspicuous, really. He likes to think of them as mechanical slivers of Orli; solid black slices of evidence; memory boxes.
He likes to watch the way Orli moves his silver-and-leather ringed hands as he talks, running pink nails through thick dark scruff; likes to watch the curve of his jaw and the smooth plane of his neck; likes to watch his brows twitch and lift and his eyes grow bright and his grin widen; likes to hear the clipped, boyish British inflections and carefree lavish affections of his speech.
In one interview, he mentions Elijah. Elijah likes to watch him fling his hands around as he talks excitedly; sweet, unselfconscious Orli talking about his friends and all the fun they had together. His voice deepens and his words run together and there is a giggle dancing behind each word, and love seeps out through the pauses.
"Elijah," he says -- Elijah likes the way his mouth works around his name -- "Elijah is crazy, alright, but was never quite as crazy as the rest of us. He never wanted to skydive. He just liked to watch."
Elijah carefully stashes that tape in with the others.
---fin.

eerie
Re: eerie
no subject
no subject
and me three for a bit more if you're up to it.
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