Title: Spellbound
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Orlando Bloom/Johnny Depp
Warnings: Slash! Mild angst.
Disclaimer: The guys aren't mine. This likely never took place outside my imagination.
Spellbound
The wine tasted sour against my tongue when I took a sip, and my eyes narrowed in revulsion when I swallowed the red liquid. Across the room, Orlando pulled a face, obviously sharing similar sentiments toward the contents of the bottle of wine he had retrieved from the fridge mere moments ago.
“This is disgusting,” Orlando said in his characteristic thick accent. “No wonder it was so cheap.”
Still tasting the tang of the wine on my tongue, I managed a grin. “I’m afraid I have to agree,” I said, eyeing the glass with mild aversion before placing it back on the mahogany table. “I wouldn’t even give this to my mother-in-law.”
Orlando’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly. “Is she that bad?”
The innocence of his question made me chuckle. “Not really,” I admitted willingly. “It just sounded good.”
Giving a laugh, Orlando stood up and leaned across the table to reach for my glass. “Something else, then?” he asked, holding up the two glasses of wine as to clarify his question.
“Please,” I said, the amusement in my voice audible to my own ears. “Before I think you’re trying to poison me.”
Shaking his head with a smile, Orlando turned around and disappeared into the kitchen, giving me the time to admire my surroundings some more. It was actually the first time Orlando had invited me to come over. Most of the time we just hung out on set or paid a visit to one of the local pubs, but I had to admit I rather liked the sudden change of places, not in the least because Orlando’s apartment was so utterly beautiful. I especially loved the small veranda that overlooked the ocean rumbling quietly in the distance. Orlando hadn’t bothered to beautify it whatsoever, so it consisted solely of a plain wooden floor. With a view like that, however, one certainly didn’t need any decorations. At least that was what I thought to myself when studying the sea.
“Do you want a beer?” Orlando suddenly called from the kitchen, interrupting my thoughts.
“What are the other options?”
A pause. “Beer.”
I frowned, not being too big a fan of the bitter beverage. Then, after a brief moment of contemplation: “Alright, that’s settled then. Bing back the wine.”
A short pause followed, and Orlando’s head suddenly appeared from behind the corner, his eyes widened in disbelief. “You serious?”
“Actually, yes,” I said, feeling my lips curl into a mild smile. “You know how much I hate beer. And I’m not in the mood for water, either. So wine it is.”
When Orlando saw I really meant what I said, he gave up and let out a laugh. “Alright then. But if you suddenly drop dead on the floor, don’t blame me for it.”
“I promise I won’t,” I said, placing a hand across my heart and eyeing him with a smile.
Orlando retreated into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a glass of wine for me and a bottle of beer for himself. I took the glass from between his graceful fingers and made myself comfortable on the couch, rolling the liquid around in the glass. I scrutinized the red fluid as it moved around in gentle ripples, as if my very gaze could make its sourness evaporate. After taking a deep sigh as to brace myself for what was to come, I brought the crystal glass to my lips and took a sip. A second later I wondered why it ever seemed a good idea to do so.
On the couch next to me, Orlando stifled a laugh. “Tastes good?” he asked, the tremor in his voice betraying his amusement.
I swallowed before I turned my head to look at him, the acid flavour making my eyes water. Somehow I managed to twitch my lips into a soundless grin, the one I had worn several times already in my Captain Jack-performance. “Delicious.” At that, I downed the wine in one big gulp just to get it over with, grimacing as I felt the liquid slide down my throat.
“Oh man. My respect for you just tripled,” Orlando said when I had regained my composure.
His remark made me chuckle, and I put the empty glass back onto the table, not planning on touching it again for the rest of the evening. “Well,” I said, my voice hinted with gentle teasing. “I guess it wasn’t for nothing, then.” Orlando’s grin faltered, or rather seemed to gradually glide off his face, and his eyes met mine across the room. I held his gaze for a few moments before turning my attention elsewhere, a smile appearing on my lips.
“It’s a beautiful night tonight,” I remarked softly after a few moments of perfect quietness, my gaze settling on the gentle blue of the sky. It was true, it was a soft summer night, but the only reason I had acknowledged that fact was to fill the silence, to relieve the sudden awkward atmosphere.
“Certainly,” Orlando replied at once, the sound of his voice indicating he was glad to have an excuse to pick up the conversation again. “It almost feels like a crime to stay inside.”
“Why don’t we go outside then?” I asked him with obvious enthusiasm. There’s nothing I enjoy as much as being outside when the weather allows it. Breathing in the fresh air and feeling the wind brush my face are things I can relish immensely, especially when I’ve been forced to stay inside all day long. I would’ve grabbed any opportunity to catch the last sunrays of the day, especially when there was a splendid view to go with it. Orlando seemed to be lured by the beauty of the outer world as well, because his eyes fixed on the spotless sky before he stood up and glanced in my direction.
“Perfect idea,” he said with a half-grin, and in long strides he crossed the room to open the white doors that led to the porch and the garden beyond. I followed him outside and let the exquisite fragrance of blossoming flowers float up my nostrils, the far-away sound of the ocean drifting in my ear.
A sudden movement next to me caught my attention and when I looked at the source of it, I saw Orlando placing himself on the porch beside me, a half-empty bottle of beer dangling almost casually between his fingers. His eyes were focused on the sea in the distance, the low sun softening the dark brown of his irises to a tantalizing auburn. My lips formed a smile again and I sat down beside him quietly, my hand automatically reaching in the pocket of my shirt to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. I held it out to Orlando and raised my eyebrows in a question. He looked from the packet in my hand to my eyes and back again, hesitation evident on his face.
“I’m trying to quit,” he said, obviously tempted by what I was offering him, but restrained by the resolution he’d made.
“Me too,” I said with a wink, and I retrieved two white little sticks and thrust one between Orlando’s lips before he could even protest. I grinned at the expression on his face before settling the other one between my own, rummaging through my pockets in search of my lighter in the meantime.
I found it soon enough, and I motioned for Orlando to come closer so I could light his cigarette. He leaned forward, his slender fingers closed around the stick resting between his lips as I brought the fire of my lighter in contact with it, my other hand attempting to shut out the wind. The little flame flickering so gently between us sent a magnificent glow across Orlando face, and his eyes, that were intensely fixed on the mild blaze, seemed to be set aflame. For a moment all I could do was watch the oranges and reds dance around in those splendidly dark eyes, but then the cigarette was lit, and Orlando drew away.
He never noticed me staring, and if he had, he never mentioned it. I didn’t, either, and together we smoked in silence, wisps of smoke curling up against the quiet sky. My thoughts drifted away, whirling through my mind with no actual purpose, and the calm of the atmosphere formed a sharp and pleasant contrast with how the rest of my day had been like. I was very glad that Orlando and I got along so well – he was one of those rare people I could share silence with. It’s good not to feel any pressure to speak all the time, to be quiet when you want to without having to worry it will be awkward. With the exception of what happened moments earlier in his living room, there had never been an uncomfortable moment between us, and I was more than pleased with that. Friendships like that ought to be cherished.
“This reminds me so much of New-Zealand,” Orlando suddenly said, crushing the cigarette underneath the sole of his shoe. I looked beside me, waiting for him to continue whatever he was going to say, and I followed his example and extinguished what was left of my own cigarette. “The peaceful scenery, the surging sea… I always thought things could only go downhill after Lord of the Rings. Apparently I was wrong.”
He briefly turned his head and looked me in the eye, a last trace of melancholy shimmering just below the surface. “I’m not just talking about the beauty of the place,” he continued, gazing in the distance again. “I’m also referring to friendship. I found friends for life there, you know. We got along so brilliantly. I never thought to experience that sort of connection again. To just… I don’t know, feel that comfortable with someone again.”
I smiled, feeling where this conversation was leading. There was something about his voice that struck me, although I couldn’t explain what it was. He spoke in a low, soft tone, with a hint of nostalgia that rendered everything he said so much more meaningful, somehow. It was as if he were sharing his profoundest feelings with me, as if he were speaking words that were meant to be heard only by the watchful trees. I couldn’t explain why I felt this way suddenly, why I let his words affect so much while there was no reason to do so. He was only being sincere, only being his sweet and humble self.
“I don’t want to sound like a sentimental sap,” Orlando continued after a short moment of silence, smiling lightly, his eyes glinting when they met my own. “-but I’m very glad to have you as a friend.”
All my lips could do was curl into a smile again, it even seemed as if my smile was too wide to fit on my face. He was just so amazingly delightful right then, so completely adorable in his innocence, I don’t think I could have stopped myself from enveloping him in my arms even if I’d tried. I reached forward and put my arms around him, feeling his arms coming up around me in return. His chuckle reverberated through his body, and I closed my eyes, chuckling along with him, although I wasn’t quite sure why. “Thank you,” I half-whispered into his hair before I withdrew, feeling reluctant to do so.
Orlando gazed at me, his eyes smiling along with his lips before he averted them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so corny.” He let out a short laugh, and his eyes flicked upwards again, big and brown and oh-so-innocent. “It must have been the wine.”
We both chuckled at his joke, and my eyes found the dimples in his cheek when my laughter had subsided. Everything seemed to be almost painfully adorable about him that night. But maybe that could be blamed to the wine as well.
“I don’t think you were corny,” I said, my eyes shifting to the ocean in the distance again. “I’m glad to have met you, too. It’s hard to establish friendships in this business.”
“I know… It’s a lonely job, being an actor. Always away from home and your loved ones...” He sighed, only slightly. “Sometimes I really miss London, you know. I absolutely love my work, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes it’s just… sometimes I just feel… I don’t know, lonely.”
A silence settled between us, and I recognized so much in his words that I put my arm around him and pulled him close in silent understanding. He didn’t protest against it, but I let go of him after a brief while nonetheless, although the feel of his curls brushing against my face had been most pleasant. He looked at me then, his eyes shimmering with an unusual blend of gloom and warmth.
“I’m sorry you feel lonely,” I said in sympathy, and before I could stop myself, my hand was already reaching for his hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. He smiled at the gesture and lowered his eyes. For a few moments, my hand lingered on his cheek, enjoying the delicacy of his lukewarm skin. I drew it away slowly, finding out I couldn’t tear my gaze off him that easily as well. I had made him shy, I could read it in his entire posture. His eyes still refused to meet mine, and the barest hint of a blush had crept up his cheeks. A wave of affection went through me at the endearing sight of him. I couldn’t look away, I couldn’t possibly look away from him now, it was almost as though I was spellbound, as though he’d cast a charm upon me I was armless against.
“Orlando…” my lips spoke against my will, and he looked up at my words, the bashfulness in his eyes making my heart ache. For a moment I allowed weakness to take over, and then I did the thing that would nearly cost me my relationship with Vanessa later on.
I kissed him.
Many a time I have wondered what drove me to it. The only thing I can think of is that the sudden affection I felt for him became too much to bear, that his loveliness struck a chord within me that made me yearn for something only he could give. My lips met his softly and stayed there long enough for me experience the strangest of things within. I withdrew only because my action had shocked me, because my mind started to overrule my heart, but when I saw those darkened eyes of him, gazing with a drowsy sort of confusion into my own, I knew I had no choice but to give in.
Orlando leaned in before I could, lips meeting lips again with only the sky as our witness. His hand came up to my cheek to cup it gently, his fingertips lightly touching my skin. The carefulness with which he kissed me sent tremors through my body, and although a voice in the back of my head told me that this was wrong, oh so wrong, the pleasure I received from it was stronger than my guilt. Later I would tell Vanessa that it had been a mistake, that it had meant absolutely nothing, but that was only half of the truth. Yes, it was a grave mistake to betray the mother of my children, and this kiss with Orlando fell into nothingness compared with what I had with the woman I loved, but still… still the nearness of him felt irrationally good, still the softness of his kiss sent my heart in a torrent of feelings, still the silence of the night rendered it almost magical. I enjoyed it more than I should have, endlessly more, but it was too late to reconsider. I had crossed the forbidden line.
When Orlando pulled away from me and looked at me again, his eyes widened in shock, I knew things had gone horribly wrong. He stood up quickly, perplexity painfully evident on his face, his hand running absentmindedly through his curls in a repetitive manner. His eyes darted around nervously without ever focussing and he looked so utterly lost that I bowed my head in regret.
“I’m sorry,” I said, rubbing my cheeks with my hands, unable to look at him. “I never—”
“No, no, it’s alright,” he interrupted me, confusion penetrating even his voice. “I’m just… I just…”
He trailed off helplessly, and when I dared to shoot him a look, I saw him struggling to grasp what had just happened. I myself experienced similar feelings – my mind was still busy trying to make sense out of all this.
“I don’t know why I did it,” I said softly, not knowing whether I was talking to Orlando or to myself. “I really don’t. You just looked so…” It was impossible to finish that sentence – he probably wouldn’t understand nor care. “I’m sorry,” I said again instead, feeling a need to apologize over and over again, although technically he had been the one that had initiated the last kiss, the real kiss. “I hope I haven’t brought you into trouble.”
The implications of my words hung heavily in the air. I could only wish I could take back what I’d just said, because Orlando’s distress only seemed to worsen. Apparently, the realization that he had just cheated on his girlfriend hadn’t even crossed his mind yet, which made my compassion for him run even deeper. I couldn’t stop myself from concluding that he’d been more shocked about the fact he’d kissed me than that he’d just betrayed his girl, which probably meant he had enjoyed our kiss, our little misstep, as much as I had. The satisfaction I drew from that lasted only a second.
“I have to er…”
Without another look in my direction Orlando retreated into the house again, leaving me alone in silence. Although every instinct told me to follow him inside, I forced myself to let at least a couple of seconds pass. I found him in the kitchen, where he was busying himself with tidying up the counter, a rather unnecessary task, considering the immaculate neatness of it. He tensed slightly when he heard me enter, yet he didn’t acknowledge my presence even in the slightest. I couldn’t stand this silence, this distance that had suddenly come between us, and I took a step forward, not knowing how to fix this, but willing to try.
“Orlan—”
He turned around, abruptly almost, and cut me off before I could finish his name.
“Johnny, can… would you mind leaving?”
His words stung like poison, although he hadn’t uttered them with even a hint of exasperation. On the contrary, his request was spoken with such gentleness that it almost seemed a plea. It was obvious he was trying very hard not to hurt me, but he didn’t quite succeed. The rejection I felt was as sharp as it was irrational – after all, it wasn’t like I wanted more from him, like I felt an urgency to kiss him again and bring the both of us into even deeper trouble and confusion. And yet, the knowledge that he wanted me to leave, that he didn’t have any need to have me around him anymore, made me feel incredibly unwanted.
“I’m sorry, I just… want to be alone right now,” Orlando reassured me quickly, his voice apologetic and shaking lightly. “It’s… it’s nothing personal.” He looked away, fidgeting with the cloth in his hand.
“I understand,” I said, and I didn’t even have to lie: I genuinely understood his reasons to desire solitude. He just wanted to sort things out, let the consequences of tonight’s occurrences sink in. But a part of me kept telling me that there was more to it than that, that it was personal, no matter what he was trying to make me believe. Maybe I had disappointed him, maybe I hadn’t turned out to be as good a friend as he thought, maybe he blamed me for what happened…
My mind was nearly spinning and it took me a moment to realize that Orlando was waiting for me to leave. I sent him a quick smile that wasn’t entirely heartfelt and spun around on my heels, not wanting to extend the awkward moment. I was fighting against the misery that suddenly took hold of me, but it was useless. For when Orlando escorted me to the door and smiled a little smile before I turned around and left, I knew my first visit to his apartment had also been my last.
I wish I could say that things never changed between us after that night, that our friendship only grew stronger, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. The kiss stayed a hindrance between us – we tiptoed around it, cautious not to mention it or even acknowledge it had actually taken place. It wasn’t that Orlando treated me harshly, on the contrary – he was always perfectly friendly. But it almost seemed as if he did so out of politeness, obligation even, instead of actual sincerity.
I have lost his friendship forever, and maybe that’s what hurts the most.
~The End~