awritinglilypea: (Newspaper Clips: Orlando)
[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 doesn't know how to deal with his mother at times, but luckily Orlando seems to have just the touch needed.
Warnings: Contains content about obsessive compulsive disorder.

Chapter One or AO3



Cleanliness.

He raised his hand to his lips, nibbling lightly on his nails as he turned in a perfect circle in his new bedroom, the anxiety of being there almost enough to take him under. It wasn’t clean enough. And his mother was refusing to leave so that he would get the chance to clean it. He tried not to imagine that she was doing this out of pure spite. Just because she could.

His anger rose, and ebbed and he shoved it away.

She had after all seen his compulsions, his obsessions take frenzied form before but he hated performing them with her around. She would get this look on her face, one of utter helplessness and despair before guilt and anger would war in her eyes and cause him to feel like there was a rock in his stomach. Weighing him down and growing bigger by the second.

God, he just wanted her out of there, why couldn’t she leave? He needed her to leave. As soon as possible.

“Elijah are you even listening to me?” His mother asked, frowning as she crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow as she studied him.

Great, and now she was pissed off.

This was turning out to be such a great day. He could hardly believe how great.

“Sorry mom, what were you saying?” He responded, “I zoned out for a second.” He lowered his hand, a wince taking him when he realized his nails had been bitten down too far and pain sung through them before he managed to shove his hands in his back pockets. He rocked on his heels just a little bit, looking at anything but her.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have a roommate honey,” Debra said for what felt like the millionth time, though it was only the thirty-ninth time. Elijah had counted after all.

It was all that was going to keep him from screaming.

Sometimes he wished he could get rid of her at times, just bar her from parts of his life and let her in when he was up to dealing with her. She was hard to be around, too much to deal with, and this was one of those moments. As much as he wanted to be let go, to have a normal life she didn’t seem to want to let him go.

“I told you before, Orlando seemed like a really nice guy he only got in trouble with the law once and it was a stupid, childish college prank for some frat,” Elijah replied, hating how sharp his voice came out as he wasn’t really one to take his anger out on others but his mother seemed to bring out the worst in him at times.
At least he hoped the reason Orlando had gotten in trouble was just a harmless college prank, or that’s what he’d told himself it had been, at least 56 times exactly.

He wasn’t sure what he would do if he had a roommate who liked to dance around the apartment naked, or something like that.

Orlando naked.

Which was unclean, or at least that was what he would try to convince himself. He drifted away momentarily then snapped back into focus glancing at his mother before he took another look around.

There was some sort of smudge on one of the bedroom walls, he didn’t know what it was and the thought of it expanding took him over for a moment.

The possibilities of what it could be slipped into his mind, making his skin crawl until he remembered something about having to repair fire damage.

A smudge of charcoal, perhaps. That was all it was.

Regardless he didn’t want it there.

Her fingers snapped, five times in a row as per usual. It was as annoying as it always was, and as it always did made her wonder if despite her insistence that his disorder was his father’s fault that she was the one who caused it.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Elijah,” her tone was harsh, biting. She thought he was being unruly and he hid a smile resisting the urge to shake his head. Sometimes the only solace he had in life was knowing that sometimes despite everything she would treat him as she did his siblings.

But he wasn’t willing to listen to her right now, not today, when he was supposed to be starting his new life. He’d signed the lease agreement, paid for it out of his own pocket and enrolled in part time courses at the community college.

It was the new routine that had been recommended to him, by his therapist no less, but despite her lack of degree in psychology his mother seemed to be under the impression that Lucas was an idiot.

He rolled his eyes skyward, turning away from her. “It’s done,” he told her simply, keeping his tone a little harsh and hoped she wouldn’t argue.



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. He’d never felt so happy to see another person in his life.

Debra frowned deeply, “Do you not have any consideration for the person who is going to be your roommate 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 with 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. Great, just great, that was all he needed, was his new roommate finding out that he was a freak before he had actually even moved in.

Because his life wasn’t fucked up enough already, this would just make it that little bit better.

“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.”

Elijah cringed, and resisted the urge to cover his eyes with his hands, or march right out of the apartment as something inside of him shook.

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 then, unable to help himself, 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 was something unspoken there, but Elijah could hear it quite clearly. “A very good therapist,” possibly followed by something along the lines of “though his mother’s not much” or some other combination of words. But Orlando was holding back.

Part of Elijah wished he wouldn’t, but then if he wasn’t going to say anything he couldn’t very well convince his roommate to, especially since they didn’t know each other all that well.

As he watched them, peeking out from his hiding place he sighed as his mother glared at Orlando then gathered her coat. He opened his mouth to say something, and it remained open as she stormed toward the door and slammed it so hard he was certain the frame cracked.

He was inclined to agree with the unspoken though. She wasn’t that good of a mother. She hadn’t been since he’d lost himself, and he didn’t know if she ever would be again.

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