awritinglilypea: (Newspaper Clips: Elijah)
[personal profile] awritinglilypea
Title: Newspaper Clippings
Fandom: Lotrips
Pairing: Orlijah eventually
Rating: PG-13
Complete: Only in my head.
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, romance
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.
Warnings: Contains content about obsessive compulsive disorder.

Note: This is a fic I began writing back in 2010, but ended up losing track of. It's been on my mind as of late, so this is my rewrite of it. The original can be found in its unfinished entirety here. My plan is to finish it within the month.

Trigger warning: Talk of mental illness and obsessive compulsive behaviour patterns

Also, a note on the OCD behaviours. I understand that not every person, with this disorder is the same, these are just based on individual experiences and not representative of the community as a whole.


His life, had, at one point been completely, utterly, boringly normal. Elijah Wood had possessed that ability, the ability for normalcy. He’d gone to school, he’d played baseball, made fun of his younger sister and he’d been a good son.

It wasn’t something he liked to think about, having been so long ago and from what his therapist told him regularly it probably wouldn’t reoccur anytime soon. At the same time he didn’t know what he would do with himself if it didn’t.

Everything had started small, the rituals that is. Apparently they always did, or at least that’s what he’d found when researching his disorder.

And that was a word that amused him. Disorder, for someone who needed, who craved an orderly life in a world amidst chaos.

Elijah’d been fourteen, his parents divorced for four years and his mother had decided she was going to marry her boyfriend on April 4th.

It might be silly to some, but the number four had seemed to haunt him ever since.

The first rituals, when they began, had involved cleanliness. Not too long after Roy and his mother’d married he’d moved into Roy’s house, and his room had just never seemed quite clean enough. It wasn’t enough of a haven from the messy outside world.

It was old, the basement smelt of rotting wood, and he’d always thought it might come down around their ears if they weren’t careful. It didn’t have the almost sterile look of a new home, or an updated home.

He’d loathed every second of it. He’d never felt clean in that house, dirt brown carpet in his room that made his skin crawl. It had him running for the sink to wash his hands, to scrub them until they turned red from the heat, then white from the cold.

The skin had cracked, and bled, and after a time he’d given up trying to hide it. It had seemed pointless, as he felt like his world, the world he felt safe in was slipping away.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

And now? He was 23 years of age, living on his own for the first time in forever, and his life fairly resembled shit, as his best friend reminded him on an almost daily basis.

She worried, his mother, and hadn’t wanted him to move on with life, to move out even though he knew his compulsions and rituals nearly drove her mad. She was embarrassed of him, of her mentally ill son, marring her perfect life.

And so, here he stood, in the middle of his new apartment, looking around and already planning the layout which would make him feel the most comfortable.

“Excuse me?” There was a soft voice from the open door and he whirled around, surprised to find a man standing there. It was rare though, for someone to catch him off guard and his heart beat just that little bit faster.

“I heard there was a person looking for a roommate, I hope I’m in the right place,” the man continued, lifting the newspaper and squinting lightly at the small print.

Breathless Elijah managed to jerk his head in a nod. This was not the type of person he’d imagined sharing a place with.

It was quite possible he was not a man at all, he was a fucking angel.

That golden, almost honey kissed looking skin, soft, mussed curly hair and deep brown eyes.

“Are you Elijah Wood?” And his angel had an accent.

“Yes, yes I am,” Elijah managed to choke out, dragging his fingers through his hair he then shoved his hand in his pocket. “I uh, I can show you the room I’m renting out,” he waved a hand, gesturing for the guy to follow, before he walked up the small flight of stairs to the loft bedroom. “I know it’s uh, not exactly private but…”

The other man looked around, eyes huge as he did so before he turned to Elijah expression one of curiosity. “You don’t sleep here?” His voice was filled with amazement.

Elijah’d heard it before, but he hated wide open spaces. He ignored the question, moving on. “If you want to live here I’ll need a copy of your criminal record, for precaution’s sake.”

Those brown eyes widened again, but instead of getting offended his angel seemed faintly amused. “Very well then, if it takes a couple days will I lose the space?” He seemed more worried about that than anything else and Elijah felt his affection grow slightly.

Elijah shook his head quickly, managing a small smile. “No, I’ll hold it. It’s the last day the add was supposed to run anyway. But let me know if you’re certain about the space.”

“Of course, wouldn’t want to leave you hanging,” The angel beamed at him and offered his hand. “That was rude of me, my name is Orlando, Orlando Bloom.”

Staring down at the offered hand Elijah took a step back, not stopping until he bumped into the dresser, fingers curled around one of the drawer knobs.

“I don’t touch people,” he said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to offer further explanation. He didn’t think he could handle it, not today at least.

Orlando’s brow furrowed in confusion and he frowned momentarily before a smile flitted across his face, obviously having decided that he’d done nothing wrong.

“That must make dating awfully hard mate,” he commented lightly, glancing into Elijah’s eyes.

“Uhm yeah, I don’t do that either,” Elijah said softly, looking down shyly. He sucked in a deep breath. “So I will hear from you soon?”

Orlando frowned again, his expression one of concern when Elijah glanced back up at him.

“Yes, you will,” he responded, shooting his new roommate a smile before he headed for the door, stepping over boxes as he left.

Elijah made his way over to the bed, sinking down onto the frame the springs bounced him slightly. He bowed his head and covered his face, rubbing his hands over it he sighed.

How was he going to try and have a normal life when he found himself falling for the first angelic face that walked in the door? Especially when that man certainly had no idea of what he would have to live with.

Why couldn’t his life just be…be…Not fucked up for once.

Letting out a bitter bark of laugher Elijah resisted the urge to weep as he pressed his palms into his eyes. It’s not like Orlando would be one to stick around anyway, few people did when they realized how fucking crazy he was. Why would they?

Chapter Two

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