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fellowshippers2005-02-25 12:16 pm
arabia764.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-02-25 12:16 pm
Fic: New Rules -- Damaged Story 2 Elijah/Orli N17 4/10
Title: New Rules – Damaged story 2
Chapter: 4
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Notes: An AU set in modern day South London. This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted over the next few days.
It carries on pretty much after the end of the original Damaged story and it won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that. The first story can be found here…
Damaged
Thank yous and kisses go to my darling![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
curthose for the amazing beta and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic. You are both too wonderful to contemplate.
New Rules
Chapter Four
Elijah was happy.
By fuck, the thought suddenly hit him, he was really, truly happy.
And he couldn’t work out whether that had ever happened before, let alone when. “Dance with me,” he interrupted Orli mid sentence.
“Err,” Orli looked absolutely shocked at the idea.
“Please,” Elijah grinned up, his lashes fluttering. “I wanna dance.”
“Go on then, I’ll watch you from here.”
“No, idiot. I want to dance with you,” this time Elijah licked at already perfectly moist lips as he positively pouted. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You already made it worth my while, on the kitchen table.”
“That’s disgusting and really unhygienic,” Rose cut in. “You’ll have health and safety after you.” She swigged her alco-pop and smiled sweetly.
Elijah’s face screwed up in a frown. “Who asked her to come?”
“You did,” Rose and Orli chorused.
“You’re meant to be helping me celebrate getting that crappy temp job, not putting a damper on things.”
“I’m not putting a damper on anything,” Rose pointed out reasonably. “I’m just saying that doing stuff like that… on second thoughts, I don’t want to even think about what you were doing.”
Elijah leaned forward over the little table, his voice dropping as much as possible in the noisy club. “Yes you do,” his eyes sparkled with mischief. “You love to think about us all naked, covered in sweat, splayed out on the bed, cocks hard and weeping as I lick down Orli’s spine and…”
“Elijah!” Orli laughed. “Give the girl a break.”
Rose gave herself a little shake and tried to grin. “Don’t know about a break, but he’s given me a fantasy that should keep me going for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh god,” Orli groaned, shaking his head.
Elijah smiled in delight. “Gonna dance with me now?” He wriggled forward a little more, practically lying over the table, perfectly aware of the way his t shirt was wrinkling up and his arse stuck up in the air. He licked at the knuckles on Orli’s hand where it rested on the table. “Please.” Dark eyelashes batted and a pink tongue licked again.
Orli didn’t think it would be a good idea if he stood up right now.
“No, you dance, I’ll watch,” Orli’s hand tightened on his bottle in self-preservation.
Elijah shrugged his shoulders, admitting defeat easily, and clambered off the table. Hands on his waist band, he settled his jeans lower down on his hips, blue checked boxers showing clearly. He moved onto the dance floor just in front of Orli and began to dance. The movements were odd, staccato with more than an echo of his earlier wriggling. Orli swallowed hard; Elijah could wriggle for England.
He continued, all elbows and knees, a dance of the true geek. But somehow, the way Elijah moved, all loose hipped and snaking shoulders, it turned into something more. Something feline, something sultry, something faintly dangerous and enticing. The current of awareness spread from those closest, away to the edge of the dance floor and the balcony above.
At first Orli wasn’t sure if Elijah was conscious of it but, as a slight space began to form around him and more hungry eyes were turned in his direction, he knew Elijah had to be. Elijah didn’t react to it in the slightest; for all the world, it seemed as if all of his attention was focused solely on Orli.
“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” Orli murmured, smile fixed in place.
“He’s only doing it for you,” Rose answered as Elijah’s hips rippled and fell in time with the beat, twinkling eyes concentrated on Orli. “He wants to please you, he doesn’t care about anyone else.”
“I know but… look at the guy over there,” Orli indicated with a nod of his head. “If he could get away with it he’d have Elijah on the ground in a second.”
“But he can’t. Even if Elijah doesn’t realise what’s going on, I reckon he has a good instinct for self preservation.”
“Oh he knows, believe me,” Orli said with feeling. “And yet he still does it.”
Rose leaned in closer, even though they were unlikely to be overheard above all the noise. “He only wants to please you,” she said again.
“Maybe, but he knows I hate it,” Orli made a conscious effort to uncross his arms.
“And maybe he doesn’t know how else to do it,” Rose said as Orli looked at her sharply. “Let him do this for you.”
“Do I have a choice?” Orli asked but then turned away before Rose could speak. “I never seem to have a choice where he’s concerned.”
On the dance floor Elijah was enjoying himself, smile wide as he did his impression of Saturday Night Fever. But his version was quite different to John Travolta’s. Although he might have been playing it as a joke, the way his hips swung and he bit at his lip as he concentrated, turned it into something altogether different.
A man with dark curly hair, oozing confidence in his tight blue shirt, sidled his way through the twisting bodies to move close to Elijah. For a while he just stood and watched, then he eased his way into Elijah’s sight line, right between him and Orli.
Elijah frowned and moved a little to the side, smiling at Orli as he executed a wild attempt at a spin dip. The man moved with him. Elijah stopped, hands on hips, and looked the man up and down openly, then contemptuously dismissed him with a flick of the head, before turning back to Orli.
Elijah turned it up a notch – now blazing full blast, his whole body screamed come-fuck-me at Orli. But the fallout went far and wide.
This time the man stopped, quickly assessing the situation, he gave Orli a hard stare before rejecting him out of hand. Blue shirt moved in closer, a hand stretching to rest on Elijah’s waistband as his thumb stroked bare skin under the t shirt and he leaned in to whisper.
Before he could say more than a couple of words Elijah had whipped round, smacking the man’s hand away and pushing him back. Orli couldn’t hear what Elijah said but from the look on his face he had a pretty good idea it was vile, cutting and full of expletives.
Blue shirt smiled, shrugged, and then whispered something else. As he leaned in his hand vaguely waved in Orli’s direction, before moving to cup round the back of Elijah’s head. His lips moved from Elijah’s ear towards his mouth and oh so quickly, brushed against them.
Orli didn’t know when he’d started holding his breath.
Suddenly Elijah turned, eyes blazing, as his knee came up to the other man’s groin, his hands clamped on his shoulders to stop the man pulling back as he made contact. Blue shirt buckled forward and Elijah pushed him away before wiping a hand across his lips and spitting on the floor. He took a couple of steps across the floor, looked up at Orli, smiled, and the whole scene with blue shirt was forgotten as he began dancing again.
Rose leaned back in her chair. “Like I said, I’m sure Elijah can take care of himself.”
Orli watched as blue shirt pushed his way through the crowd, other people’s hungry eyes taking his place on Elijah. “But it’s trouble,” Orli sat tense in the chair. “When he turns it on like this Elijah’s trouble.”
Rose looked back at Elijah. She could see him begin to hesitate, unsure if he’d displeased Orli. Now there was an air of vulnerability, almost hurt, around him that added to the blatant sexuality in a frightening way. She swivelled in her chair, pushing at Orli’s arm. “Go dance with him.”
“What?” Orli didn’t understand the urgency.
“Go dance with him now. He needs you to claim him.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Orli look at him,” Rose said, a hint of panic in her voice. “I never got it before but you’re right, he is different. There’s something about him that… I don’t know, he almost seems damaged and you’re his life raft. Now shut up and go claim him.”
Orli looked back across the dance floor. Elijah had stopped moving now, standing still, hands hanging at his sides, teeth chewing franticly at his lip, as he watched Orli. He watched Orli as others watched him.
Moving slowly Orli got up and walked across the short space. Elijah stood still, eyes wide and staring at Orli, face open and… And then it hit Orli, right then, Elijah was vulnerable. He was more vulnerable than he’d ever been before and Orli had made him like that.
“Dance with an old man?” He held out a hand.
Elijah’s face split into an enormous grin and he flung himself at Orli, plastering their bodies obscenely together from shoulder to knee. His hands slipped in between Orli’s open shirt and his t-shirt, wrapping tight round his back. For a moment he hugged really tight, then he looked up. “All right?”
“Course I’m all right,” Orli smiled.
“Not cross about anything?”
“Nah,” Orli’s smile got bigger. “I’m just not used to having an entire club jealous of me.”
Elijah’s eyes flicked over the rest of the big room. “They’re not jealous of you, they’re jealous of me,” he said seriously.
Orli squeezed him a little tighter. “Let’s make ‘em even more jealous of the pair of us.”
Elijah’s eye shone as he leaned in for a kiss.
+
This was the bloody trouble coming out with two blokes, Rose though. When they disappeared you couldn’t go looking for them. Even worse when they were in *lurve* -- she laughed to herself. Silly sods had turned up the atmosphere of the entire club the way they’d been drooling all over each other. Even made her look a second time at the odd bods that had asked her to dance. Small, overweight and balding wasn’t really her type but that one did have a sense of humour to be proud of.
But now she wanted to go home and she wasn’t about to go outside on her own. In this part of London, at this time of night a woman didn’t go looking for a taxi alone. She’d seen Elijah go into the toilets ages ago but there was no sign of Orli. And now that had her thinking. Elijah had been in there a long time, too long. She’d seen the looks; she’d seen the vulnerability. What if?
Straightening her glasses and pushing up her sleeves, she banged on the toilet door and announced loudly she was coming in.
Trying desperately not to let her eyes drop to willy-height, she scanned the room. Only two men at the urinals and one more washing his hands. Well would you look at that; fat-baldy man had something else to be proud of. She pulled her eyes back up and smiled. That was definitely a phone number worth hanging on too.
She did a double take. Nope, no Elijah. But he had definitely come in here. She marched over to the three grimy looking cubicles, suddenly aware of the muffled noises coming from one. It sounded like… it sounded like someone was holding back noise; noises of distress.
What to do? Go look for Orli? She hadn’t seen him for a while. Find help? She looked behind her but all the men had scuttled away in embarrassment.
There was a sharper, higher cry from behind the door.
Noticing the almost obligatory broken catch, she heaved her ample bosom up, and gave the door a hard shove.
Inside Orli was on his knees; hands pinching red finger patterns on the white skin of Elijah’s partially exposed hipbones. Elijah stood, head thrown back, eyes screwed tight shut, mouth hanging open, one hand tangled deep in Orli’s hair holding it firmly in place, the other clamped tight under his scrotumn pushing his jeans down just enough so he could ruthlessly fuck Orli’s mouth.
Rose felt a pinkness spread across her cheeks and down her neck as another kind of warmth prickled between her legs. She didn’t move; watching as an almost-pain screwed up Elijah’s face and his hips jerked harder, whipping Orli’s head back with each mighty thrust.
She turned, prudently making sure the door was closed, before she went to find out if fat-baldy man had gone home yet.
+
Three weeks and three bone-numbingly cold Sunday lunches at Orli’s parents. They sat in the tense, frosty atmosphere whilst Orli and Yvonne made polite small talk. It was obvious that she was doing her best; trying to include Elijah in the discussion, constantly checking if he had everything he wanted, even complimenting him on the old jacket that she’d seen twice before and smoothing over cutting remarks from her husband.
Yvonne was more than aware of the tension but, give the woman her due, she was trying.
Orli on the other hand, didn’t seem to feel any of it. He would sit at the table, mouth full, hands waving around as he nattered on about nothing. Then he would flop out on the sofa, loosening the top button on his trousers over his achingly full belly, arm tight around Elijah’s shoulders, and fall asleep watching the telly.
Alone under Frank’s merciless gaze, Elijah would try to wriggle away but Orli just pulled him in tighter, mumbling something about buckets when he argued he needed the loo. In the end, Elijah gave up and fell asleep on Orli’s shoulder. It was easier than keeping his eyes open.
Not once did Elijah moan or say he didn’t want to go, he didn’t even push to go home early. But he did crack when Yvonne asked for help clearing things out of an elderly aunt’s flat, after she’d gone into sheltered housing. He yawned pathetically, saying he was tired and couldn’t face going out. And it was true, he was tired, but he’d managed to ignore up till now.
Orli was shocked at how much the dark bags under Elijah’s eyes had frightened him. He knew it was only the result of staying up late and the early mornings at the new job, but he had to fight the urge to wrap Elijah in cotton wool and nurse him back to health.
He left a bottle of whisky on the side and, with a huge effort, made himself go and help his mum instead. If he started fussing now he’d set a pattern for the rest of their lives and eventually Elijah would hate him for it. Elijah wanted to put the cancer behind him but, by god, Orli found it difficult.
It was hard, depressing work sorting through all the junk. Eighty three years of life packed up in a few boxes. Now they had most of the furniture stacked ready for removal, piles of clothes bagged for the charity shop and the last of the precious things in cases ready to follow their owner.
Looking through the final sideboard Yvonne found a half drunk bottle of whisky and another shoe box full of odds and ends. She raised the bottle and an eyebrow inquiringly at Orli who, thinking of Elijah at home doing the same thing, went to dig out some mugs. When he got back his mother had uncovered the sofa and sat back exhausted.
She took the pink plastic mug and sipped gratefully. “Just what the doctor ordered,” she said after another sip. “What do you think?” She held the shoebox up. “Throw it away or check it?”
Much as he wanted to, Orli didn’t have the heart to just dump it. “Nah, come on. Last one.” He lifted the lid off the box.
Inside there was a mixture of old junk including receipts from years ago, old almost empty bank books, tickets from shows long since gone and the odd photograph. Yvonne took them and smiled as she explained to Orli who the people were. It truly was another time.
He sorted the photos from the rest and went to add the box to the rubbish pile, but Yvonne called him back.
“Don’t. Let’s give the box to auntie Ethel. You never know, some of it might be important to her.”
“There’s nothing in here under twenty years old,” Orli said, nevertheless putting the lid back on the box.
“So? We all like to keep things. I have all my engagement cards and they are nearer thirty five years old,” She offered her mug up for more whisky and Orli topped them both up before sitting down next to her. “Don’t you have anything you keep just for the sentimental value?”
Orli began to deny it, but then thought of the plastic boxes in his garage, safely storing many of Shane’s things.
Yvonne saw his hesitation and laughed. “Oh don’t tell me you still have those old Beano comics and your Thunderbirds toys. Believe me, they really aren’t worth anything.”
“They are!” Orli said indignantly. “They’re collectors items.”
“Love, they’re all torn or scratched, you played with them so much.”
Orli smiled but it didn’t quite ring true. Yvonne, knowing her son only too well, saw it. “What else have you got?” She asked softly. “Something of Shane’s?”
Pulling his leg up under him, Orli slid back into the corner of the sofa, close to his mother. “Yeah. I have…” He blew out a long breath. “I kept some of his clothes and there’s all the photos and stuff from things we did together. I don’t want to lose them, it’d be like… losing a bit of him.”
“I know you still miss him, is it as bad?”
Orli looked up aggressively. “What, you mean now I’m with Elijah?”
Yvonne rubbed a hand soothingly over his knee. “I didn’t actually. Just because you’ve met someone new doesn’t mean you forget the past.”
“Sorry,” Orli patted his mother’s hand. “I guess I’m a bit defensive when it comes to Elijah.”
“Why? Because of Shane?” She asked softly.
“No,” Orli reached for the bottle again, even though he was already conscious of certain blurriness round the edges. “I’ll always feel the same about Shane, you know that, don’t you?” Yvonne nodded her acceptance.
“Does Elijah understand it?”
“Yes,” Orli stated with certainty. “He always has. I thought it might change when we got together but it hasn’t.” He smiled with pleasure. “Elijah talks to Shane. There’re a couple of pictures of him up in the flat, Elijah won’t have them moved, and he talks to them when he thinks I can’t hear.”
“What sort of things does he say?” Yvonne asked curiously.
“He tells Shane about me, what I’ve been up to, how I’m doing and he always finishes by saying he’ll take care of me and make sure I don’t get hurt. He nearly caught me once, said he’d been talking on the phone. So now I have to sneak around to listen in,” Orli oozed pleasure at the thought. “It’s really…. sweet. Bloody stupid word, but you know what I mean. Shane would have liked Elijah.”
“So why are you defensive about him? You’ve always been so confident about your decisions.”
“And I am about him,” Orli was firm. “He’s good for me mum. I know you can’t see it, but he is. Everybody thinks he’s trouble, you told me that when he first got here, but he’s not. He’s…” Orli trailed off, his hand going instinctively for the bottle.
“He’s what?” Yvonne pushed gently.
Orli flopped back, head balanced on the top of the sofa as he stared at the ceiling. “Rose said he’s damaged and she’s right. His mum turned him almost into a whore, right from when he was a little kid, and he doesn’t know how else to act.” He sat up abruptly. “Damn, I shouldn’t be telling you this. He’d go mad if he found out, he doesn’t explain himself to anyone.”
“Except you?”
“Yeah, except me.”
“Don’t worry love,” she stroked his knee again. “I’d already worked some of that out. Remember I’ve met Silvia more than once, and seen her with her son.”
“So you understand why he’s like he is?” Orli hadn’t realised how much he needed his mother to be on his side. Much as he told Elijah it didn’t matter, it did.
Yvonne added a little more whisky to her mug and swirled it around while she thought how to phrase things. After refilling the mug Orli’s held out she carefully replaced the bottle and then turned to her son. “Maybe I can see why he behaves as he does, but understanding doesn’t make it any easier to accept.” She rehearsed the next line in her head before committing herself. “I think he can be very difficult to be around and, maybe, a little damaging to anyone who gets close.”
With only his leg brushing hers Yvonne could still feel Orli begin to tense and pull away. “Orlando,” she reached out for him, anxious not to lose this closeness. “I know you don’t see him like that, and that at the moment everything is wonderful but…” Orli’s face closed even more.
Yvonne rubbed his hand between hers and shrugged her shoulders. “And then maybe I’m wrong and you can see the real Elijah. Tell me about him. Tell me what you see and why you love him,” she said gently.
Another long slug of fiery liquid slid down Orli’s throat as he rested back, closed his eyes and thought about Elijah. His Elijah, the one only he appeared to see. He’d tried to explain it to Rose but she didn’t really understand and, more importantly, it didn’t really matter if she did. His mother was a different case completely. Her opinion did count and the growing haze of the alcohol buzzing through his veins made it easier to talk.
“Elijah is,” he stopped and thought again. What was Elijah? “Elijah is a whole mass of contradictions, from arrogant pain in the bum, through manipulative slut, to bouncy excitable kid. But underneath it all he’s just a normal guy who can see the world around him going past, but knows he doesn’t fit in.” Orli looked at his mother, almost pleading for her to understand. “He knows he’s different, and I’ve made him admit to himself he’s not happy as he was, but he’s still finding it hard to change. Deep down he’s frightened and lonely and I want to help him.”
Again Yvonne thought carefully about what she was going to say. Orli was talking to her about things that really mattered to him, something he hadn’t done since he’d got together with Elijah, and she didn’t want to lose that. “You’re a good person, you always have been, even as a little boy you wanted to help. But you don’t always have to do it. Perhaps Elijah is frightened, however you don’t have to be the one to save him.”
“You don’t get it,” Orli pulled himself upright, eyes bright on his mother. “When I first met him he would never have seen himself as frightened. He thought he was a fighter who could get anyone he wanted. I’ve made him frightened because I’ve made him think about what he wants.”
“And what does he want?” Now there was steel behind Yvonne’s eyes. “To become a god-fearing, virginal good boy? Because it’s a bit late for that.”
“No,” Orli shook his head. “He doesn’t really want to give up the games because he knows he’s good at them but…”
“But what, love? Face it, he isn’t going to change. Why should he?”
Orli smiled, more to himself than anything else. Did it really matter if he could convince his mum? He knew the truth. “He’s trying to change for me, because he loves me.”
“You really believe that?” The gloves were off now.
“Yes.” But so were Orli’s.
“And you really think you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Not just because of the cancer, because you feel sorry for him?”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with that.”
Yvonne shook her head. “You don’t have to take the first man that comes along saying he loves you. You’re easy to love, that’s not enough. Go out, mix, meet people, find a decent man who…”
“Mum,” Orli interrupted. “I don’t love him just because he loves me. I’m not that stupid. I love him because, oh I don’t know,” he waved his hands around vaguely. “Because he’s intelligent, thoughtful, interesting and… he sends me loads of little drawing, at work, for no reason.” The words tumbled out in a torrent as he thought about everything Elijah was.
“Because it would never occur to him to feel sorry for himself and ‘cos he glows when he talks about something he’s passionate about, like music or history. Because he giggles and has a wicked sense of humour, he’s made me laugh more in the last few months than I have for years. Because he’s beautiful and I fancy the arse off him.” The whisky was really taking effect now.
“Because he makes me feel loved and needed and that’s a wonderful feeling, but most of all,” he turned back to focus on his mother. “Because he make me feel glad to be alive, and I’d forgotten what that felt like.”
Yvonne looked at the flush on her son’s face and the happiness in his eyes. She so wanted to protect him from all the pain in the world. “You’ve been through so much already, I don’t want to see you hurt again. You need to protect yourself.”
“From Elijah?” Orli asked softly. “It’s too late. You know I don’t do things by halves, it’s all or nothing with me and he’s already part of me.”
“But love,” Yvonne felt a little desperate as she clasped Orli’s hand again. “You don’t know how bad he can really be.”
“You mean what he did to dad?” It was Orli’s turn to feel his mother tense. “I know about that, and I know he did it just to annoy uncle Robin. I’ve seen him do worse than that, go further just to prove a point, and the things he’s told me about…” He shook his head and blew out a long breath. “It doesn’t matter, I still love him.” He held her hand more tightly. “And I want to love him mum, because he’s special and he’s good for me. Please, can we try to be a family?”
Even through the alcohol clouding his brain, Orli could see his mother struggle. She loved him and wanted him to be happy but… he was asking so much. She patted his cheek, the way she had done when he was small. “We can try love, we can try.”
+
Yvonne managed to get a whisky mellowed and lethargic Orli into her car without too much trouble. On the drive back to his flat he slid down in the seat, silly grin on his face, and told her how he loved everyone starting with Elijah’s doctor, going through half the members of the family and all the friends he could think of, and ending with Elijah himself. At the mention of the other man’s name the silly grin turned into a lopsided look of real contentment and Yvonne knew she had to rethink things.
She was tempted to leave him at the kerb, but watching him stagger up the path she thought better of it, and took him right to the door. Then it seemed rude, if not churlish, not to wait while it was opened. Orli was digging through all his pockets for the second time, looking for his key, when the door he was leaning on was opened. He lurched, tipped to one side, and grabbed Elijah in an enormous bear hug.
“Hello gorgeous,” he slurred. “How you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Elijah said, trying to wriggle away from the hand that was insinuating itself down the back of his sweat pants. He pulled Orli up from his slouch by his arms and peered at him closely. “And you’re drunk,” he said with a grin. “Is this how you always come back after a night out with your mum?”
At that moment Elijah registered Yvonne’s presence for the first time. He took a step away from Orli, reaching out a restraining hand as the other man started to wobble again, and wished he’d put on something that was a little more mother-respectable on.
“Hello Mrs Bloom,” he said formally. He thought about saying thank you for bringing Orli home, but that seemed a bit presumptuous, he was her son after all. But he needed to say something else, he wasn’t good at being tongue-tied. “I hope you finished everything you wanted.”
“Packed up loads of boxes, threw out tons of crap and found a bottle of twelve year old malt. Very nice,” Orli interrupted. “Very nice indeed.”
“I’m glad you had a good time,” Elijah kept Orli pinned to the wall.
“The malt was good anyway, and now,” Orli wriggled out from behind Elijah’s hand. “I need a pee.” With a wave to his mother Orli disappeared inside, leaving Elijah on the doorstep.
Elijah shuffled his feet a bit and tried not to look at Yvonne. He didn’t like this feeling of not being in control one little bit. Normally he could handle most situations but Orli had persuaded him to give up most of his managing strategies and he didn’t like how it left him feeling inadequate. What did he do now? He couldn’t just shut the door in her face.
It was about then that he realised Yvonne felt the same way. He glanced over and offered a comrades-in-adversity grin. For a moment Yvonne smiled back and then her face turned more serious. “Take care of my son for me please,” she said softly and Elijah was stunned by the gesture.
He nodded, tried to think of something intelligent to say, and nodded again.
It was only after Yvonne turned and walked away that he called out, “I will, I promise.”
+
Chapter: 4
Author: Arabia
Pairing: Elijah/Orli
Rating N17
Disclaimer: Total fiction
Notes: An AU set in modern day South London. This is NOT a WIP – it is all finished and will be posted over the next few days.
It carries on pretty much after the end of the original Damaged story and it won’t make much sense if you haven’t read that. The first story can be found here…
Damaged
Thank yous and kisses go to my darling
curthose for the amazing beta and to annwyn55 for making the beautiful icon that goes with the fic. You are both too wonderful to contemplate.New Rules
Chapter Four
Elijah was happy.
By fuck, the thought suddenly hit him, he was really, truly happy.
And he couldn’t work out whether that had ever happened before, let alone when. “Dance with me,” he interrupted Orli mid sentence.
“Err,” Orli looked absolutely shocked at the idea.
“Please,” Elijah grinned up, his lashes fluttering. “I wanna dance.”
“Go on then, I’ll watch you from here.”
“No, idiot. I want to dance with you,” this time Elijah licked at already perfectly moist lips as he positively pouted. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You already made it worth my while, on the kitchen table.”
“That’s disgusting and really unhygienic,” Rose cut in. “You’ll have health and safety after you.” She swigged her alco-pop and smiled sweetly.
Elijah’s face screwed up in a frown. “Who asked her to come?”
“You did,” Rose and Orli chorused.
“You’re meant to be helping me celebrate getting that crappy temp job, not putting a damper on things.”
“I’m not putting a damper on anything,” Rose pointed out reasonably. “I’m just saying that doing stuff like that… on second thoughts, I don’t want to even think about what you were doing.”
Elijah leaned forward over the little table, his voice dropping as much as possible in the noisy club. “Yes you do,” his eyes sparkled with mischief. “You love to think about us all naked, covered in sweat, splayed out on the bed, cocks hard and weeping as I lick down Orli’s spine and…”
“Elijah!” Orli laughed. “Give the girl a break.”
Rose gave herself a little shake and tried to grin. “Don’t know about a break, but he’s given me a fantasy that should keep me going for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh god,” Orli groaned, shaking his head.
Elijah smiled in delight. “Gonna dance with me now?” He wriggled forward a little more, practically lying over the table, perfectly aware of the way his t shirt was wrinkling up and his arse stuck up in the air. He licked at the knuckles on Orli’s hand where it rested on the table. “Please.” Dark eyelashes batted and a pink tongue licked again.
Orli didn’t think it would be a good idea if he stood up right now.
“No, you dance, I’ll watch,” Orli’s hand tightened on his bottle in self-preservation.
Elijah shrugged his shoulders, admitting defeat easily, and clambered off the table. Hands on his waist band, he settled his jeans lower down on his hips, blue checked boxers showing clearly. He moved onto the dance floor just in front of Orli and began to dance. The movements were odd, staccato with more than an echo of his earlier wriggling. Orli swallowed hard; Elijah could wriggle for England.
He continued, all elbows and knees, a dance of the true geek. But somehow, the way Elijah moved, all loose hipped and snaking shoulders, it turned into something more. Something feline, something sultry, something faintly dangerous and enticing. The current of awareness spread from those closest, away to the edge of the dance floor and the balcony above.
At first Orli wasn’t sure if Elijah was conscious of it but, as a slight space began to form around him and more hungry eyes were turned in his direction, he knew Elijah had to be. Elijah didn’t react to it in the slightest; for all the world, it seemed as if all of his attention was focused solely on Orli.
“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” Orli murmured, smile fixed in place.
“He’s only doing it for you,” Rose answered as Elijah’s hips rippled and fell in time with the beat, twinkling eyes concentrated on Orli. “He wants to please you, he doesn’t care about anyone else.”
“I know but… look at the guy over there,” Orli indicated with a nod of his head. “If he could get away with it he’d have Elijah on the ground in a second.”
“But he can’t. Even if Elijah doesn’t realise what’s going on, I reckon he has a good instinct for self preservation.”
“Oh he knows, believe me,” Orli said with feeling. “And yet he still does it.”
Rose leaned in closer, even though they were unlikely to be overheard above all the noise. “He only wants to please you,” she said again.
“Maybe, but he knows I hate it,” Orli made a conscious effort to uncross his arms.
“And maybe he doesn’t know how else to do it,” Rose said as Orli looked at her sharply. “Let him do this for you.”
“Do I have a choice?” Orli asked but then turned away before Rose could speak. “I never seem to have a choice where he’s concerned.”
On the dance floor Elijah was enjoying himself, smile wide as he did his impression of Saturday Night Fever. But his version was quite different to John Travolta’s. Although he might have been playing it as a joke, the way his hips swung and he bit at his lip as he concentrated, turned it into something altogether different.
A man with dark curly hair, oozing confidence in his tight blue shirt, sidled his way through the twisting bodies to move close to Elijah. For a while he just stood and watched, then he eased his way into Elijah’s sight line, right between him and Orli.
Elijah frowned and moved a little to the side, smiling at Orli as he executed a wild attempt at a spin dip. The man moved with him. Elijah stopped, hands on hips, and looked the man up and down openly, then contemptuously dismissed him with a flick of the head, before turning back to Orli.
Elijah turned it up a notch – now blazing full blast, his whole body screamed come-fuck-me at Orli. But the fallout went far and wide.
This time the man stopped, quickly assessing the situation, he gave Orli a hard stare before rejecting him out of hand. Blue shirt moved in closer, a hand stretching to rest on Elijah’s waistband as his thumb stroked bare skin under the t shirt and he leaned in to whisper.
Before he could say more than a couple of words Elijah had whipped round, smacking the man’s hand away and pushing him back. Orli couldn’t hear what Elijah said but from the look on his face he had a pretty good idea it was vile, cutting and full of expletives.
Blue shirt smiled, shrugged, and then whispered something else. As he leaned in his hand vaguely waved in Orli’s direction, before moving to cup round the back of Elijah’s head. His lips moved from Elijah’s ear towards his mouth and oh so quickly, brushed against them.
Orli didn’t know when he’d started holding his breath.
Suddenly Elijah turned, eyes blazing, as his knee came up to the other man’s groin, his hands clamped on his shoulders to stop the man pulling back as he made contact. Blue shirt buckled forward and Elijah pushed him away before wiping a hand across his lips and spitting on the floor. He took a couple of steps across the floor, looked up at Orli, smiled, and the whole scene with blue shirt was forgotten as he began dancing again.
Rose leaned back in her chair. “Like I said, I’m sure Elijah can take care of himself.”
Orli watched as blue shirt pushed his way through the crowd, other people’s hungry eyes taking his place on Elijah. “But it’s trouble,” Orli sat tense in the chair. “When he turns it on like this Elijah’s trouble.”
Rose looked back at Elijah. She could see him begin to hesitate, unsure if he’d displeased Orli. Now there was an air of vulnerability, almost hurt, around him that added to the blatant sexuality in a frightening way. She swivelled in her chair, pushing at Orli’s arm. “Go dance with him.”
“What?” Orli didn’t understand the urgency.
“Go dance with him now. He needs you to claim him.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Orli look at him,” Rose said, a hint of panic in her voice. “I never got it before but you’re right, he is different. There’s something about him that… I don’t know, he almost seems damaged and you’re his life raft. Now shut up and go claim him.”
Orli looked back across the dance floor. Elijah had stopped moving now, standing still, hands hanging at his sides, teeth chewing franticly at his lip, as he watched Orli. He watched Orli as others watched him.
Moving slowly Orli got up and walked across the short space. Elijah stood still, eyes wide and staring at Orli, face open and… And then it hit Orli, right then, Elijah was vulnerable. He was more vulnerable than he’d ever been before and Orli had made him like that.
“Dance with an old man?” He held out a hand.
Elijah’s face split into an enormous grin and he flung himself at Orli, plastering their bodies obscenely together from shoulder to knee. His hands slipped in between Orli’s open shirt and his t-shirt, wrapping tight round his back. For a moment he hugged really tight, then he looked up. “All right?”
“Course I’m all right,” Orli smiled.
“Not cross about anything?”
“Nah,” Orli’s smile got bigger. “I’m just not used to having an entire club jealous of me.”
Elijah’s eyes flicked over the rest of the big room. “They’re not jealous of you, they’re jealous of me,” he said seriously.
Orli squeezed him a little tighter. “Let’s make ‘em even more jealous of the pair of us.”
Elijah’s eye shone as he leaned in for a kiss.
+
This was the bloody trouble coming out with two blokes, Rose though. When they disappeared you couldn’t go looking for them. Even worse when they were in *lurve* -- she laughed to herself. Silly sods had turned up the atmosphere of the entire club the way they’d been drooling all over each other. Even made her look a second time at the odd bods that had asked her to dance. Small, overweight and balding wasn’t really her type but that one did have a sense of humour to be proud of.
But now she wanted to go home and she wasn’t about to go outside on her own. In this part of London, at this time of night a woman didn’t go looking for a taxi alone. She’d seen Elijah go into the toilets ages ago but there was no sign of Orli. And now that had her thinking. Elijah had been in there a long time, too long. She’d seen the looks; she’d seen the vulnerability. What if?
Straightening her glasses and pushing up her sleeves, she banged on the toilet door and announced loudly she was coming in.
Trying desperately not to let her eyes drop to willy-height, she scanned the room. Only two men at the urinals and one more washing his hands. Well would you look at that; fat-baldy man had something else to be proud of. She pulled her eyes back up and smiled. That was definitely a phone number worth hanging on too.
She did a double take. Nope, no Elijah. But he had definitely come in here. She marched over to the three grimy looking cubicles, suddenly aware of the muffled noises coming from one. It sounded like… it sounded like someone was holding back noise; noises of distress.
What to do? Go look for Orli? She hadn’t seen him for a while. Find help? She looked behind her but all the men had scuttled away in embarrassment.
There was a sharper, higher cry from behind the door.
Noticing the almost obligatory broken catch, she heaved her ample bosom up, and gave the door a hard shove.
Inside Orli was on his knees; hands pinching red finger patterns on the white skin of Elijah’s partially exposed hipbones. Elijah stood, head thrown back, eyes screwed tight shut, mouth hanging open, one hand tangled deep in Orli’s hair holding it firmly in place, the other clamped tight under his scrotumn pushing his jeans down just enough so he could ruthlessly fuck Orli’s mouth.
Rose felt a pinkness spread across her cheeks and down her neck as another kind of warmth prickled between her legs. She didn’t move; watching as an almost-pain screwed up Elijah’s face and his hips jerked harder, whipping Orli’s head back with each mighty thrust.
She turned, prudently making sure the door was closed, before she went to find out if fat-baldy man had gone home yet.
+
Three weeks and three bone-numbingly cold Sunday lunches at Orli’s parents. They sat in the tense, frosty atmosphere whilst Orli and Yvonne made polite small talk. It was obvious that she was doing her best; trying to include Elijah in the discussion, constantly checking if he had everything he wanted, even complimenting him on the old jacket that she’d seen twice before and smoothing over cutting remarks from her husband.
Yvonne was more than aware of the tension but, give the woman her due, she was trying.
Orli on the other hand, didn’t seem to feel any of it. He would sit at the table, mouth full, hands waving around as he nattered on about nothing. Then he would flop out on the sofa, loosening the top button on his trousers over his achingly full belly, arm tight around Elijah’s shoulders, and fall asleep watching the telly.
Alone under Frank’s merciless gaze, Elijah would try to wriggle away but Orli just pulled him in tighter, mumbling something about buckets when he argued he needed the loo. In the end, Elijah gave up and fell asleep on Orli’s shoulder. It was easier than keeping his eyes open.
Not once did Elijah moan or say he didn’t want to go, he didn’t even push to go home early. But he did crack when Yvonne asked for help clearing things out of an elderly aunt’s flat, after she’d gone into sheltered housing. He yawned pathetically, saying he was tired and couldn’t face going out. And it was true, he was tired, but he’d managed to ignore up till now.
Orli was shocked at how much the dark bags under Elijah’s eyes had frightened him. He knew it was only the result of staying up late and the early mornings at the new job, but he had to fight the urge to wrap Elijah in cotton wool and nurse him back to health.
He left a bottle of whisky on the side and, with a huge effort, made himself go and help his mum instead. If he started fussing now he’d set a pattern for the rest of their lives and eventually Elijah would hate him for it. Elijah wanted to put the cancer behind him but, by god, Orli found it difficult.
It was hard, depressing work sorting through all the junk. Eighty three years of life packed up in a few boxes. Now they had most of the furniture stacked ready for removal, piles of clothes bagged for the charity shop and the last of the precious things in cases ready to follow their owner.
Looking through the final sideboard Yvonne found a half drunk bottle of whisky and another shoe box full of odds and ends. She raised the bottle and an eyebrow inquiringly at Orli who, thinking of Elijah at home doing the same thing, went to dig out some mugs. When he got back his mother had uncovered the sofa and sat back exhausted.
She took the pink plastic mug and sipped gratefully. “Just what the doctor ordered,” she said after another sip. “What do you think?” She held the shoebox up. “Throw it away or check it?”
Much as he wanted to, Orli didn’t have the heart to just dump it. “Nah, come on. Last one.” He lifted the lid off the box.
Inside there was a mixture of old junk including receipts from years ago, old almost empty bank books, tickets from shows long since gone and the odd photograph. Yvonne took them and smiled as she explained to Orli who the people were. It truly was another time.
He sorted the photos from the rest and went to add the box to the rubbish pile, but Yvonne called him back.
“Don’t. Let’s give the box to auntie Ethel. You never know, some of it might be important to her.”
“There’s nothing in here under twenty years old,” Orli said, nevertheless putting the lid back on the box.
“So? We all like to keep things. I have all my engagement cards and they are nearer thirty five years old,” She offered her mug up for more whisky and Orli topped them both up before sitting down next to her. “Don’t you have anything you keep just for the sentimental value?”
Orli began to deny it, but then thought of the plastic boxes in his garage, safely storing many of Shane’s things.
Yvonne saw his hesitation and laughed. “Oh don’t tell me you still have those old Beano comics and your Thunderbirds toys. Believe me, they really aren’t worth anything.”
“They are!” Orli said indignantly. “They’re collectors items.”
“Love, they’re all torn or scratched, you played with them so much.”
Orli smiled but it didn’t quite ring true. Yvonne, knowing her son only too well, saw it. “What else have you got?” She asked softly. “Something of Shane’s?”
Pulling his leg up under him, Orli slid back into the corner of the sofa, close to his mother. “Yeah. I have…” He blew out a long breath. “I kept some of his clothes and there’s all the photos and stuff from things we did together. I don’t want to lose them, it’d be like… losing a bit of him.”
“I know you still miss him, is it as bad?”
Orli looked up aggressively. “What, you mean now I’m with Elijah?”
Yvonne rubbed a hand soothingly over his knee. “I didn’t actually. Just because you’ve met someone new doesn’t mean you forget the past.”
“Sorry,” Orli patted his mother’s hand. “I guess I’m a bit defensive when it comes to Elijah.”
“Why? Because of Shane?” She asked softly.
“No,” Orli reached for the bottle again, even though he was already conscious of certain blurriness round the edges. “I’ll always feel the same about Shane, you know that, don’t you?” Yvonne nodded her acceptance.
“Does Elijah understand it?”
“Yes,” Orli stated with certainty. “He always has. I thought it might change when we got together but it hasn’t.” He smiled with pleasure. “Elijah talks to Shane. There’re a couple of pictures of him up in the flat, Elijah won’t have them moved, and he talks to them when he thinks I can’t hear.”
“What sort of things does he say?” Yvonne asked curiously.
“He tells Shane about me, what I’ve been up to, how I’m doing and he always finishes by saying he’ll take care of me and make sure I don’t get hurt. He nearly caught me once, said he’d been talking on the phone. So now I have to sneak around to listen in,” Orli oozed pleasure at the thought. “It’s really…. sweet. Bloody stupid word, but you know what I mean. Shane would have liked Elijah.”
“So why are you defensive about him? You’ve always been so confident about your decisions.”
“And I am about him,” Orli was firm. “He’s good for me mum. I know you can’t see it, but he is. Everybody thinks he’s trouble, you told me that when he first got here, but he’s not. He’s…” Orli trailed off, his hand going instinctively for the bottle.
“He’s what?” Yvonne pushed gently.
Orli flopped back, head balanced on the top of the sofa as he stared at the ceiling. “Rose said he’s damaged and she’s right. His mum turned him almost into a whore, right from when he was a little kid, and he doesn’t know how else to act.” He sat up abruptly. “Damn, I shouldn’t be telling you this. He’d go mad if he found out, he doesn’t explain himself to anyone.”
“Except you?”
“Yeah, except me.”
“Don’t worry love,” she stroked his knee again. “I’d already worked some of that out. Remember I’ve met Silvia more than once, and seen her with her son.”
“So you understand why he’s like he is?” Orli hadn’t realised how much he needed his mother to be on his side. Much as he told Elijah it didn’t matter, it did.
Yvonne added a little more whisky to her mug and swirled it around while she thought how to phrase things. After refilling the mug Orli’s held out she carefully replaced the bottle and then turned to her son. “Maybe I can see why he behaves as he does, but understanding doesn’t make it any easier to accept.” She rehearsed the next line in her head before committing herself. “I think he can be very difficult to be around and, maybe, a little damaging to anyone who gets close.”
With only his leg brushing hers Yvonne could still feel Orli begin to tense and pull away. “Orlando,” she reached out for him, anxious not to lose this closeness. “I know you don’t see him like that, and that at the moment everything is wonderful but…” Orli’s face closed even more.
Yvonne rubbed his hand between hers and shrugged her shoulders. “And then maybe I’m wrong and you can see the real Elijah. Tell me about him. Tell me what you see and why you love him,” she said gently.
Another long slug of fiery liquid slid down Orli’s throat as he rested back, closed his eyes and thought about Elijah. His Elijah, the one only he appeared to see. He’d tried to explain it to Rose but she didn’t really understand and, more importantly, it didn’t really matter if she did. His mother was a different case completely. Her opinion did count and the growing haze of the alcohol buzzing through his veins made it easier to talk.
“Elijah is,” he stopped and thought again. What was Elijah? “Elijah is a whole mass of contradictions, from arrogant pain in the bum, through manipulative slut, to bouncy excitable kid. But underneath it all he’s just a normal guy who can see the world around him going past, but knows he doesn’t fit in.” Orli looked at his mother, almost pleading for her to understand. “He knows he’s different, and I’ve made him admit to himself he’s not happy as he was, but he’s still finding it hard to change. Deep down he’s frightened and lonely and I want to help him.”
Again Yvonne thought carefully about what she was going to say. Orli was talking to her about things that really mattered to him, something he hadn’t done since he’d got together with Elijah, and she didn’t want to lose that. “You’re a good person, you always have been, even as a little boy you wanted to help. But you don’t always have to do it. Perhaps Elijah is frightened, however you don’t have to be the one to save him.”
“You don’t get it,” Orli pulled himself upright, eyes bright on his mother. “When I first met him he would never have seen himself as frightened. He thought he was a fighter who could get anyone he wanted. I’ve made him frightened because I’ve made him think about what he wants.”
“And what does he want?” Now there was steel behind Yvonne’s eyes. “To become a god-fearing, virginal good boy? Because it’s a bit late for that.”
“No,” Orli shook his head. “He doesn’t really want to give up the games because he knows he’s good at them but…”
“But what, love? Face it, he isn’t going to change. Why should he?”
Orli smiled, more to himself than anything else. Did it really matter if he could convince his mum? He knew the truth. “He’s trying to change for me, because he loves me.”
“You really believe that?” The gloves were off now.
“Yes.” But so were Orli’s.
“And you really think you love him?”
“Yes.”
“Not just because of the cancer, because you feel sorry for him?”
“No, it’s got nothing to do with that.”
Yvonne shook her head. “You don’t have to take the first man that comes along saying he loves you. You’re easy to love, that’s not enough. Go out, mix, meet people, find a decent man who…”
“Mum,” Orli interrupted. “I don’t love him just because he loves me. I’m not that stupid. I love him because, oh I don’t know,” he waved his hands around vaguely. “Because he’s intelligent, thoughtful, interesting and… he sends me loads of little drawing, at work, for no reason.” The words tumbled out in a torrent as he thought about everything Elijah was.
“Because it would never occur to him to feel sorry for himself and ‘cos he glows when he talks about something he’s passionate about, like music or history. Because he giggles and has a wicked sense of humour, he’s made me laugh more in the last few months than I have for years. Because he’s beautiful and I fancy the arse off him.” The whisky was really taking effect now.
“Because he makes me feel loved and needed and that’s a wonderful feeling, but most of all,” he turned back to focus on his mother. “Because he make me feel glad to be alive, and I’d forgotten what that felt like.”
Yvonne looked at the flush on her son’s face and the happiness in his eyes. She so wanted to protect him from all the pain in the world. “You’ve been through so much already, I don’t want to see you hurt again. You need to protect yourself.”
“From Elijah?” Orli asked softly. “It’s too late. You know I don’t do things by halves, it’s all or nothing with me and he’s already part of me.”
“But love,” Yvonne felt a little desperate as she clasped Orli’s hand again. “You don’t know how bad he can really be.”
“You mean what he did to dad?” It was Orli’s turn to feel his mother tense. “I know about that, and I know he did it just to annoy uncle Robin. I’ve seen him do worse than that, go further just to prove a point, and the things he’s told me about…” He shook his head and blew out a long breath. “It doesn’t matter, I still love him.” He held her hand more tightly. “And I want to love him mum, because he’s special and he’s good for me. Please, can we try to be a family?”
Even through the alcohol clouding his brain, Orli could see his mother struggle. She loved him and wanted him to be happy but… he was asking so much. She patted his cheek, the way she had done when he was small. “We can try love, we can try.”
+
Yvonne managed to get a whisky mellowed and lethargic Orli into her car without too much trouble. On the drive back to his flat he slid down in the seat, silly grin on his face, and told her how he loved everyone starting with Elijah’s doctor, going through half the members of the family and all the friends he could think of, and ending with Elijah himself. At the mention of the other man’s name the silly grin turned into a lopsided look of real contentment and Yvonne knew she had to rethink things.
She was tempted to leave him at the kerb, but watching him stagger up the path she thought better of it, and took him right to the door. Then it seemed rude, if not churlish, not to wait while it was opened. Orli was digging through all his pockets for the second time, looking for his key, when the door he was leaning on was opened. He lurched, tipped to one side, and grabbed Elijah in an enormous bear hug.
“Hello gorgeous,” he slurred. “How you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Elijah said, trying to wriggle away from the hand that was insinuating itself down the back of his sweat pants. He pulled Orli up from his slouch by his arms and peered at him closely. “And you’re drunk,” he said with a grin. “Is this how you always come back after a night out with your mum?”
At that moment Elijah registered Yvonne’s presence for the first time. He took a step away from Orli, reaching out a restraining hand as the other man started to wobble again, and wished he’d put on something that was a little more mother-respectable on.
“Hello Mrs Bloom,” he said formally. He thought about saying thank you for bringing Orli home, but that seemed a bit presumptuous, he was her son after all. But he needed to say something else, he wasn’t good at being tongue-tied. “I hope you finished everything you wanted.”
“Packed up loads of boxes, threw out tons of crap and found a bottle of twelve year old malt. Very nice,” Orli interrupted. “Very nice indeed.”
“I’m glad you had a good time,” Elijah kept Orli pinned to the wall.
“The malt was good anyway, and now,” Orli wriggled out from behind Elijah’s hand. “I need a pee.” With a wave to his mother Orli disappeared inside, leaving Elijah on the doorstep.
Elijah shuffled his feet a bit and tried not to look at Yvonne. He didn’t like this feeling of not being in control one little bit. Normally he could handle most situations but Orli had persuaded him to give up most of his managing strategies and he didn’t like how it left him feeling inadequate. What did he do now? He couldn’t just shut the door in her face.
It was about then that he realised Yvonne felt the same way. He glanced over and offered a comrades-in-adversity grin. For a moment Yvonne smiled back and then her face turned more serious. “Take care of my son for me please,” she said softly and Elijah was stunned by the gesture.
He nodded, tried to think of something intelligent to say, and nodded again.
It was only after Yvonne turned and walked away that he called out, “I will, I promise.”
+
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I'm so glad you're enjoying it, thanks a million for the feedback.
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Thanks a million, you're a star.
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Another brilliant chapter. So much detail - this must have taken you forever to write. I usually want to rush through reading stuff to find out what happens in the end but I'm praying this won't ever finish!!
Thanks xx
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It has taken me forever to write, especially as I'm a very slow writer (I can't type!) That's part of the reason why I never post until it's finished -- it takes me months and months and months.
But I can't see it ending anytime soon, I love these two way too much.
Thanks so much for the lovely feedback, it's much appreciated.
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PS I lurve your icon!
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This is a wonderful fic. I am hoping Orli's Mom is able to come around and forgive Elijah. I don't hold much hope for his Dad. I hope you surprise me with that one.
I care so much for this healing Elijah and this compassionate so in love Orli.
Thanks
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Thanks so much for the lovely feedback, it is very much appreciated.