![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aleathielViggo/Orlando. I do apologise but this little thing has been in my head for days. I had to let it out. 200 words.
Orlando slammed the door, familiar furious tears threatening to fall. He rested his forehead against the cool magnolia wall of the corridor and closed his traitorous eyes, slowly willing his angry breath to calm. He fumbled with his cell, not needing to open his eyes to see the numbers he hit as he lifted it to his ear. He wanted Viggo now.
The soft click and whirr of the hated answering machine informed him his lover wasn’t in and Orlando nearly crumpled to the floor. I won’t marry her he wanted to scream as the message. Yet he knew he had to be more discrete, there were other people around who were within hearing distance. It was bad enough that they’d seen him leave Robin’s office in this state. They wouldn’t gossip, they were paid too much. But he couldn’t take the risk anyway. He had to tell Viggo the Kate issue had come up again but without making it too obvious.
The answering machine beeped and began to record and from the dark depths of somewhere Orlando dredged up his boys’ school education.
“It’s 1485 again,” he growled down the phone. “Please call me.”
1485. The Battle of Bosworth.
Orlando slammed the door, familiar furious tears threatening to fall. He rested his forehead against the cool magnolia wall of the corridor and closed his traitorous eyes, slowly willing his angry breath to calm. He fumbled with his cell, not needing to open his eyes to see the numbers he hit as he lifted it to his ear. He wanted Viggo now.
The soft click and whirr of the hated answering machine informed him his lover wasn’t in and Orlando nearly crumpled to the floor. I won’t marry her he wanted to scream as the message. Yet he knew he had to be more discrete, there were other people around who were within hearing distance. It was bad enough that they’d seen him leave Robin’s office in this state. They wouldn’t gossip, they were paid too much. But he couldn’t take the risk anyway. He had to tell Viggo the Kate issue had come up again but without making it too obvious.
The answering machine beeped and began to record and from the dark depths of somewhere Orlando dredged up his boys’ school education.
“It’s 1485 again,” he growled down the phone. “Please call me.”
1485. The Battle of Bosworth.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-03 01:52 am (UTC)