Lotrips fic: Newspaper Clippings 2/? (Orlijah) PG-13
Title: Newspaper Clippings
Fandom: Lotrips
Pairing: Orlijah eventually
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Only in my head.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, romance
Story Summary: Elijah wanted a normal life. But he isn't sure he'll ever be able to have one, given his proclivities for obsession and ritual. He finally has his own apartment, his own life but everything is turned on its head when an angel walks into his life, needing a place to live.
Chapter Summary: Elijah's mother is impossible, he just wants her to leave and all she wants him to do is stay. His quest for a normal life gets a little bit harder after a short while and he's left reeling.
Warnings: Contains content about obsessive compulsive disorder.
Another huge thank you to sparkly_shiny. You are an awesome beta, and an even better friend.
Cleanliness.
Elijah raised his hand to his lips, nibbling lightly on his nails as he turned in a circle in his new bedroom and felt the anxiety begin to take him under. It wasn’t clean enough. It wasn’t clean enough and his mother wouldn’t leave so that he would get the chance to clean it.
His mother had seen his compulsions, his obsessions take form before of course, but he hated performing them with her around.
It was the look she would get on her face, one of complete helplessness and despair, before guilt settled in and caused him to feel like there was a rock in his stomach, growing bigger by the minute.
God, he just needed her to leave. Why couldn’t she leave?
“Elijah, are you even listening to what I’m telling you?” His mother, Debra asked, frowning at him deeply and crossing her arms over her chest.
Great, and now she was pissed off.
This was turning out to be such a great day. He could hardly believe how great.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I zoned out for a minute there,” he responded honestly, lowering his hand. He winced when he realized he had bitten his nails down a little too far and sharp pains struck him before he shoved his hands in his back pockets and rocked on his heels just a bit.
“I’m not entirely sure it’s a good idea for you to have a room mate honey,” Debra said for what felt like the millionth time.
It was the thirty-ninth time, Elijah had counted.
Elijah sighed heavily, wishing he could just get rid of her because at times, she was too much to deal with and now was one of those times. As much as he wanted to be let go, to have a normal life, was about as much as she didn’t want to let him go, it seemed.
“I’ve told you before, the background check was fine. He only got in trouble once with the law and it was a stupid college prank,” Elijah responded, sharper than he had intended.
At least he hoped it was just a harmless college prank, as he had told himself it was 56 times exactly.
He didn’t know what he would do if he had a room mate who liked to run around naked when the mood struck.
Orlando naked.
Drifting momentarily Elijah snapped himself back into focus, glancing at his mother before looking around the room again.
There was a smudge on one of his bedroom walls. He didn’t know what it was.
The possibilities made his skin crawl, until he remembered something about having to repair fire damage.
Debra snapped her fingers, an annoying habit.
She always did it exactly five times in a row. It was enough to make him wonder if despite her insistence his disorder was his father’s fault, that she had some form of it as well.
“That is not what I meant Elijah, and you know it,” she told him in a harsh tone, the same tone she used whenever she thought one of her children was being unruly or was unwilling to listen to what she was saying to them.
The thing was, Elijah was unwilling to listen. He had signed the lease agreement, paid for it out of his own pocket and had enrolled in part time courses at the community college.
It was a new routine, just like his therapist had recommended to him, but for some reason his mother seemed to think that Lucas was a complete idiot.
Dragging a hand through his hair Elijah rolled his eyes skyward, “It’s done.”
Debra huffed out a sigh, and for a moment Elijah thought she was going to stamp her foot like Hannah used to when she was a little girl and they wouldn’t let her watch television for more than a half hour.
“We need to find you a new therapist,” she informed her son, her cheeks slightly flushed. “He’s done nothing for you.”
Elijah sputtered momentarily, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “Are you kidding me?” he asked her, arching an eyebrow.
Debra looked like she was about to retort when there was a knock on the door and Elijah found himself thanking God or whoever else was up there for this moment of intervention between the two of them.
He hurried out of the bedroom, putting as much space between himself and his mother as he could for the time being and threw open the door, the feeling of brainlessness returning when he saw who was standing there.
Orlando.
“Hello mate,” Orlando greeted in what Elijah had come to see as his easygoing, friendly manner from their conversations. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” he said as he spotted Debra coming out of the bedroom.
“Oh, not at all,” Elijah gestured for him to come in, noticing the other man was toting an army style tote bag over one shoulder.
Debra frowned deeply, “Do you not have any consideration for the person who is going to be your room mate young man?” she asked in a sharp tone of voice.
Orlando stopped, turning toward her he seemed to falter visibly and Elijah winced, closing the door. He resisted the urge to bash his head against it repeatedly.
“Excuse me?” the angel faced young man finally responded, his tone one of forced politeness.
Elijah turned, leaning against the door he glanced between his mother and his new room mate, biting his bottom lip.
“It’s no bother,” he told Orlando, shooting his mother a glare.
Debra let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head at how nice her son always was. “It is though, you have a routine Elijah.”
Elijah flushed red as Orlando looked at him, his expression one of curiosity.
“I’m sorry Elijah, I can leave and come back at the time we arranged if you are in the middle of something,” Orlando offered, his tone warmer when he spoke to the younger man.
Smiling weakly, Elijah shook his head, “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s fine. You wanted to bring some stuff over, I get it. No sense in bringing everything at once. I’ll even take that up for you.” He grabbed the bag Orlando had set down, dragging it carefully toward the stairs. He picked it up and teetered only for a moment under its weight before striding determinedly up them and setting it down next to the bed.
“You should have more respect,” he could faintly hear his mother beginning to lecture Orlando. “Just because things are different in London or wherever it is you’re from-”
Orlando cut her off, and Elijah had to stifle a small smile and laugh. “Canterbury,” his tone was polite.
He heard his mother sputter, “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m from Canterbury, it’s quite different from London, you’ll find,” Orlando told her, his tone almost cheerful.
Elijah covered his mouth, fighting the urge to let out a bout of hysterical laughter. Orlando was enjoying this, it was enough to make him want to cheer and clap. He was toying Elijah’s mother.
“It doesn’t matter,” Debra responded sharply moments later. “Here we have respect for those who are disabled.”
Silence rang through the apartment and Elijah felt all good humour slip away from him, and resisted the urge to peek over the half wall to see the expression on the Englishman’s face.
“Pardon?” Orlando responded moments later, incredulity filling his words. “Disabled?”
“Yes,” Debra snapped, as though she was talking to someone who was lower than herself. It was entirely possible that she did think he was, Elijah figured, his mother had changed since she’d gotten money. “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.”
Orlando’s next words shocked Elijah to his core. “I’m sorry ma’am, but where I’m from, that is not considered a disability, it is a disorder which is perfectly treatable given time and patience.”
Debra made a noise and Elijah did peek over the half-wall, smiling briefly when Orlando glanced up at him and nodded, but his mother didn’t notice. The look on his mother’s face was one he’d last seen on his pet gold fish Frodo, and it was an amusing one at that.
“Considering Elijah is living on his own, and I see no signs of hoarding millions of newspapers I would say he’s well off, he must have a very good therapist,” Orlando said in that cold polite tone he’d seem to affected when speaking to Debra since walking through the door.
There were unspoken words there, “a very good therapist” which was supposed to have been followed by “despite his bad mother” or some other such combination of such a thought, Elijah figured, but Orlando had obviously held himself back.
As Debra glared at Orlando and then gathered her coat, storming toward the door and slamming it behind her so hard Elijah was certain the frame had cracked he was inclined to agree.
She wasn’t a very good mother.
Fandom: Lotrips
Pairing: Orlijah eventually
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Only in my head.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, romance
Story Summary: Elijah wanted a normal life. But he isn't sure he'll ever be able to have one, given his proclivities for obsession and ritual. He finally has his own apartment, his own life but everything is turned on its head when an angel walks into his life, needing a place to live.
Chapter Summary: Elijah's mother is impossible, he just wants her to leave and all she wants him to do is stay. His quest for a normal life gets a little bit harder after a short while and he's left reeling.
Warnings: Contains content about obsessive compulsive disorder.
Another huge thank you to sparkly_shiny. You are an awesome beta, and an even better friend.
Cleanliness.
Elijah raised his hand to his lips, nibbling lightly on his nails as he turned in a circle in his new bedroom and felt the anxiety begin to take him under. It wasn’t clean enough. It wasn’t clean enough and his mother wouldn’t leave so that he would get the chance to clean it.
His mother had seen his compulsions, his obsessions take form before of course, but he hated performing them with her around.
It was the look she would get on her face, one of complete helplessness and despair, before guilt settled in and caused him to feel like there was a rock in his stomach, growing bigger by the minute.
God, he just needed her to leave. Why couldn’t she leave?
“Elijah, are you even listening to what I’m telling you?” His mother, Debra asked, frowning at him deeply and crossing her arms over her chest.
Great, and now she was pissed off.
This was turning out to be such a great day. He could hardly believe how great.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying? I zoned out for a minute there,” he responded honestly, lowering his hand. He winced when he realized he had bitten his nails down a little too far and sharp pains struck him before he shoved his hands in his back pockets and rocked on his heels just a bit.
“I’m not entirely sure it’s a good idea for you to have a room mate honey,” Debra said for what felt like the millionth time.
It was the thirty-ninth time, Elijah had counted.
Elijah sighed heavily, wishing he could just get rid of her because at times, she was too much to deal with and now was one of those times. As much as he wanted to be let go, to have a normal life, was about as much as she didn’t want to let him go, it seemed.
“I’ve told you before, the background check was fine. He only got in trouble once with the law and it was a stupid college prank,” Elijah responded, sharper than he had intended.
At least he hoped it was just a harmless college prank, as he had told himself it was 56 times exactly.
He didn’t know what he would do if he had a room mate who liked to run around naked when the mood struck.
Orlando naked.
Drifting momentarily Elijah snapped himself back into focus, glancing at his mother before looking around the room again.
There was a smudge on one of his bedroom walls. He didn’t know what it was.
The possibilities made his skin crawl, until he remembered something about having to repair fire damage.
Debra snapped her fingers, an annoying habit.
She always did it exactly five times in a row. It was enough to make him wonder if despite her insistence his disorder was his father’s fault, that she had some form of it as well.
“That is not what I meant Elijah, and you know it,” she told him in a harsh tone, the same tone she used whenever she thought one of her children was being unruly or was unwilling to listen to what she was saying to them.
The thing was, Elijah was unwilling to listen. He had signed the lease agreement, paid for it out of his own pocket and had enrolled in part time courses at the community college.
It was a new routine, just like his therapist had recommended to him, but for some reason his mother seemed to think that Lucas was a complete idiot.
Dragging a hand through his hair Elijah rolled his eyes skyward, “It’s done.”
Debra huffed out a sigh, and for a moment Elijah thought she was going to stamp her foot like Hannah used to when she was a little girl and they wouldn’t let her watch television for more than a half hour.
“We need to find you a new therapist,” she informed her son, her cheeks slightly flushed. “He’s done nothing for you.”
Elijah sputtered momentarily, trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about. “Are you kidding me?” he asked her, arching an eyebrow.
Debra looked like she was about to retort when there was a knock on the door and Elijah found himself thanking God or whoever else was up there for this moment of intervention between the two of them.
He hurried out of the bedroom, putting as much space between himself and his mother as he could for the time being and threw open the door, the feeling of brainlessness returning when he saw who was standing there.
Orlando.
“Hello mate,” Orlando greeted in what Elijah had come to see as his easygoing, friendly manner from their conversations. “I hope I’m not interrupting something,” he said as he spotted Debra coming out of the bedroom.
“Oh, not at all,” Elijah gestured for him to come in, noticing the other man was toting an army style tote bag over one shoulder.
Debra frowned deeply, “Do you not have any consideration for the person who is going to be your room mate young man?” she asked in a sharp tone of voice.
Orlando stopped, turning toward her he seemed to falter visibly and Elijah winced, closing the door. He resisted the urge to bash his head against it repeatedly.
“Excuse me?” the angel faced young man finally responded, his tone one of forced politeness.
Elijah turned, leaning against the door he glanced between his mother and his new room mate, biting his bottom lip.
“It’s no bother,” he told Orlando, shooting his mother a glare.
Debra let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head at how nice her son always was. “It is though, you have a routine Elijah.”
Elijah flushed red as Orlando looked at him, his expression one of curiosity.
“I’m sorry Elijah, I can leave and come back at the time we arranged if you are in the middle of something,” Orlando offered, his tone warmer when he spoke to the younger man.
Smiling weakly, Elijah shook his head, “No, no,” he said softly. “It’s fine. You wanted to bring some stuff over, I get it. No sense in bringing everything at once. I’ll even take that up for you.” He grabbed the bag Orlando had set down, dragging it carefully toward the stairs. He picked it up and teetered only for a moment under its weight before striding determinedly up them and setting it down next to the bed.
“You should have more respect,” he could faintly hear his mother beginning to lecture Orlando. “Just because things are different in London or wherever it is you’re from-”
Orlando cut her off, and Elijah had to stifle a small smile and laugh. “Canterbury,” his tone was polite.
He heard his mother sputter, “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m from Canterbury, it’s quite different from London, you’ll find,” Orlando told her, his tone almost cheerful.
Elijah covered his mouth, fighting the urge to let out a bout of hysterical laughter. Orlando was enjoying this, it was enough to make him want to cheer and clap. He was toying Elijah’s mother.
“It doesn’t matter,” Debra responded sharply moments later. “Here we have respect for those who are disabled.”
Silence rang through the apartment and Elijah felt all good humour slip away from him, and resisted the urge to peek over the half wall to see the expression on the Englishman’s face.
“Pardon?” Orlando responded moments later, incredulity filling his words. “Disabled?”
“Yes,” Debra snapped, as though she was talking to someone who was lower than herself. It was entirely possible that she did think he was, Elijah figured, his mother had changed since she’d gotten money. “Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.”
Orlando’s next words shocked Elijah to his core. “I’m sorry ma’am, but where I’m from, that is not considered a disability, it is a disorder which is perfectly treatable given time and patience.”
Debra made a noise and Elijah did peek over the half-wall, smiling briefly when Orlando glanced up at him and nodded, but his mother didn’t notice. The look on his mother’s face was one he’d last seen on his pet gold fish Frodo, and it was an amusing one at that.
“Considering Elijah is living on his own, and I see no signs of hoarding millions of newspapers I would say he’s well off, he must have a very good therapist,” Orlando said in that cold polite tone he’d seem to affected when speaking to Debra since walking through the door.
There were unspoken words there, “a very good therapist” which was supposed to have been followed by “despite his bad mother” or some other such combination of such a thought, Elijah figured, but Orlando had obviously held himself back.
As Debra glared at Orlando and then gathered her coat, storming toward the door and slamming it behind her so hard Elijah was certain the frame had cracked he was inclined to agree.
She wasn’t a very good mother.