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January 8th, 2008
![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) crimson_bride | 07:10 am
I love this story so much.
“Can we be friends?”
Viggo’s chest hurt, and his lungs were tight, too tight to breathe. “If you want,” he managed to say, his voice scratching. He should pretend his plane was due to leave, or he had to be somewhere else, anything to let him escape. Only his body wouldn’t move, and he couldn’t get his mouth to say anything—all he could do was curl his hand more tightly around Orlando’s.
Orlando’s lips moved, shaping ‘Viggo?’ but no sound came out.
They're both struggling here, poor guys: all the halting, squirmy awkwardness is so horribly real. Nevertheless, they manage to get hold of the opportunity this fortuitous meeting has brought them.
One thing that I'm very aware of on reading this again is how most of the action takes place in bustling public locations, with constant distractions and interruptions---barmen, fellow passengers, airport staff, flight attendants---but this gradually diminishes into the background; by the time we get to Orlando's apartment, we're only hearing the vague sounds of other occupants of the building or traffic outside. And finally they arrive at the house that was just for them, a refuge from the world, so peaceful and silent, cocooned in fog.
You made a fairytale ending that's not unrealistic; they're going to live happily ever after. :D
"You can go home again, ... so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been" (Ursula K Le Guin, The Dispossessed).
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