About a dream

Hey there, just so you know, this story has nothing to do with "Bittersweet". It's just something that came to my mind and I wrote

it all down in one piece, but figured it wouldn't fit into the "Bittersweet" storyline.

As this was a very spontaneous inspiration it's gonna be a very short story, with only two or three chapters. It's easier anyway to

concentrate only on one story.

Now, please be so kind and review.

But for now enjoy reading it. ;-)

Laura

Disclaimer: I do not own Orlando Bloom. The story is only a result of my sometimes spooky fantasy and I do not make any money out of it.
Sexual action (without violence) is included, so be warned.

*

Chapter One

It doesn’t matter
(by Alison Krauss and the Union Station)

It doesn’t matter what I want

It doesn’t matter what I need

It doesn’t matter if I cry

Don’t matter if I pleed

You’ve been on the road

Don’t know where it goes or where it leads


It doesn’t matter what I want

It doesn’t matter what I need

If you’ve made up your mind to go

I won’t beg you to stay

You’ve been in a cage

Throw you to the wind

You fly away

It doesn’t matter what I want

It doesn’t matter what I need

Doesn’t matter if I cry

Don’t matter if I pleed

Feel the sting of tears

Falling on this face you’ve loved

for years...

I get up wearily and stretch myself. A brief gaze at the clock showes that it is getting awfully late...again. It’s not that this is

annoying me or anything, I’m really getting used to it. Just why does it have to be today? I want him. I need him. Right now, right

here. Why does it have to be this hard?

But I’m patiently waiting...again.

The food’s cold and looks disgusting now, so I throw it away. I clean up the dishes and tidy the kitchen. But still...no sign of him.

Another glance at the clock. Quarter past eleven. I’m done. I’m weary. Tired. And all I want to do is sleep now. I guess I’ll see

him tomorrow.

Slowly I make my way up the stairs towards the bedroom. At this moment, I really hate him.Why is h doing this to me? If he

really loves me, why can’t he arrive on time, just once? I know he’s working hard and very busy all the time. But I’m working,

too. And sometimes I, too, have a shity day and need some comfort in the evening. Especially on our three year anniversary.

But he probably forgot. It’s been three years now, I think, as I pass by the pictures on the wall. We were once so happy together.

He was there all the time. And he was only with me. I was his queen, ruling the Kingdom of Orlando. I can’t help smiling. He can

be such a goof sometimes. But then again, he is just the man I need. The typical shelter in the storm, the shoulder to cry on...

I can still remember when I first met him. He had only been in New Zealand for a few years. Was it love at first sight?, people

asked me. And, as sceptical as I am, I have to say yes by now. As cheesy as it sounds, I knew from the first moment I saw him,

that there was something about him. Something that made me cry, laugh and dissolve in passion in the past. Is it all gone now?

I do remember everything, every single moment I spent with him, from the first kiss, over the first dance (yes, the kiss came

first!), the first sex (which came immediately after the first dance...) until the first fight (and the sex after that....). Every single

memory is still vividly on my mind. Could it be that we lost it somewhere along the line?

What happened to us that we became so bored of our selves?

And that the other half became so insignificant?

We got caught up in our individual lives, me being busy with Med School, him being busy with the Lord of the Rings. Gosh, it’s

been goin’ on for years now...

I still can’t believe that we lost the something that has connected us all the time. I don’t want to believe. I don’t want to believe

that he is past caring for me. Was his fire blown out? Or did he just forget, the way I did, until I saw these pictures of him and his

make-up-bitch making out. It’s up to me to remind him, I guess.


He told me it was nothing, just too much alcohol at a party. Why wasn’t I invited?

Am I not a part of your lief anymore?, I asked.

You will always be a part of me, Zoe, he answered.

But which part? Which role do I play in his movie?

Am I his Arwen? Or just Eowyn who finds happiness with another man?

I’m sick and tired of it.

I don’t want to be doubting him anymore. I don’t want to feel this lonely anymore.

I want him back. After all, he is still my boy-friend.

I brush my teeth, change into my pyjamas and cuddle up in all my pillows wrapped up in my cover. His scent is all over the bed. I

inhale deeply before I switch off the light. I can feel my body relax, before sleep overcomes me, and I’m lost in my dreams.

*

Orlando pulls up the driveway. Everything’s dark already. Of course, it is, it’s half twelve. He sighed and stopped the car right

behind hers. He would hide the keys, that way she wouldn’t be able to sneak away in the morning like she sometimes does when

she’s mad at him, whether it was brunch with her brother or jogging or studying...every reason is welcome to prevent a

confrontation. He just wishes for her to scream and shout at him the way she has done it in the past, before she became so

indifferent about him and his escapades.

He looked at the flowers and the little box on the passenegers seat. How would he make her believe that he didn’t forget it?

Since when has he become so bad at being her boy-friend? She was his queen and he gladly bowed to her. He can’t help smiling

whenever he recalls those memories. The were always having so much fun together. He doesn’t wanna lose it. Ever!

When he enters the house, he switches on the light. That way she wouldn’t be scared if she was still up. Quickly he puts the

flowers, white roses, her favourite, into a vase and waters them. He climbs up the stairs along their wall of shame with all these

embarassing, but extremely funny pictures of happier times. Times when they weren’t stressed out from work and still able to

listen to each other.

He sighs again and then sneaks into their bed-room. She is already fast asleep. He can tell from the sound of her deep breath and

from the way she is lying there, all curled up around his cover. Great, he thinks, how will I get it back now. She always does that,

steal his blanket when. Every single night. He actually always hides an emergency blanket under the bed somewhere, but it looks

like she found it as he can see a corner of it in between the big pile of covers and pillows all around her. Usually it’s him, lying

their, wrapped up tight in her embrace. He wonders whether the covers are a good substitue, well definitely a reliable one. He

takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth and hops into his boxers. This is gonna be a cold night, he thought to himself, but, then

again, did he deserve better?

When he is just about to switch off the light, he suddenly hears a soft moan. He turns around. The light reflects in her hair and it

shines brighter than ever before. She suddenly moves, and he is already afraid that he woke her up, when her hand grabs the

sheet and another deep moan comes from deep in her throat. He smiles, wondering what the hell she’s dreaming. Her breath

goes faster now and can hear her says his name. “I’m right here baby, right here with you...”, he whispers into her ear, careful

not to wake her from that dream.

She gasps suddenly and her head moves abruptly. And then there it his, her ‘pleasure smile’. She always has that on her lips just

before she’s about to reachher climax. At this stage Orlando is dying to know what she’s dreaming. Maybe she’ll tell him

tomorrow... She sometimes does. Though, he has to admit, it’s been a while since her last erotic dream about him.

She hisses and erotically bites her lower lip. He’s happy that he’s still turning her on, even if it’s only in a dream. But he feels that

he not only wants to know what’s happening there now, but much more that that, he wants to feel it. He wants this dream to be

real. Gently, he lets his hand slide along her throat. She shivers and turns onto her back, her chest rising under his touch. Her

moans become louder now, but are still rather soft, compared to real action. He feels himself harden just watching her. He loves

to watch her coming. She looks so beautiful. Her mouth opens wide and he places soft kisses on her lips, not knowing if he would

be able to control himself any longer. Her hands are entangled in the sheets now and ner moevements become more and more

rapidly. Carefully his hand slides down her neck down to the curve of her breast. He feels her nipple harden through the t-shirt

and almost can’t resist taking it off. Suddenly her head falls back and she curls up and stretches in a final wave of passion, crying

out his name quietly. Her breath is still fast and Orlando knows that he himself is puffing and punping now. ‘Oh well’, he thinks and

looking down at himself notices the bulge in his pants. He switches off the light and by the time he leanes back into his pillow, Zoe

has already taken possesion of his covers again. But he knows that he won’t be cold tonight. He will keep himself warm by

imagining what she has been dreaming before.

*