Have you ever been so happy to see someone that you literally wanted to leap into their arms and shower them with big kisses? I hadn't until I see Viggo get off the plane, wandering dazedly out into the international terminal at Heathrow. The fatigue of such a long flight is evident on his face, his clothes are rumpled and his hair is a mess, but I still want to kiss him senseless.
But I restrain myself, drawing on whatever amount of stiff British reserve I possess (which is barely any) and simply take him into an embrace. His tired body leans heavily against me and his arms wrap around me tightly. "Happy early birthday," he murmurs. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too."
He doesn't have any luggage other than a knapsack and a carry-on duffel bag, so we skip the baggage claim and head straight for my flat. It's modest but homey, and Viggo smiles as he looks at the mess cluttering the living room. "You're worse than I am," he laughs.
"Debatable," I grumble. At a particularly loud yawn, I glance over to see him sheepishly covering his mouth. "Tired?"
"The jet lag fucks up my internal clock. Maybe I should just get some sleep so that I can be running on all cylinders tomorrow. It would be terrible if I passed out in the middle of dinner."
I laugh and we go to the bedroom, his arm heavy and comforting around my waist. The bed is still rumpled, as I always deem making up the sheets a complete waste of time. We both get changed quickly and crawl into bed, sleepiness beginning to wash over me as well.
"I love you so much, Orli," he says softly after kissing my neck.
"I'm so happy to be here with you."
"Yeah, this is all I really wanted for my birthday," I sigh.
"Just to have you in my arms. And in my bed."
Viggo chuckles. "Down, boy. We'll have plenty of time for that."
"You should get your sleep, old man. I don't want to tire you out in the morning."
"When have I ever gotten tired during sex?" A good question. I've come to the conclusion that Viggo's libido has superhuman powers. So much for the myth of the aging process sapping a man's stamina.
"Okay, never." I kiss him gently, his arms sliding around my body as my hands roam his chest. "That's just a preview," I say with a wink.
"Mmm, well then I'm going to sleep. That way, the morning will come quicker."
"I'm going to refrain from making a dirty joke about your choice of words," I inform him.
His body shakes with laughter as I lay in his embrace. "You do that."
After a few minutes, his breathing settles into a familiar steady rhythm, and I know he's asleep. I kiss the warm skin of his cheek and smile. I've missed this so much.
*****
The annoying trill of my phone jolts me out of a pleasant slumber. "Bloody hell," I grouse.
"Ignore it," comes the sleepy refrain from the man next to me.
I would, except that it's now on ring seven and it's driving me crazy. My hand fumbles around until I find the receiver and pick it up. "'Lo?"
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Orli, happy birthday to you!" Lij's singing may be off-key, but it's sweet nonetheless.
"Elijah," I say patiently, a smile spreading across my face, "do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Well, it's midnight here in L.A., so it's eight in the morning where you are. I didn't think I'd wake you, Orli. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I laugh. "Really, it's wonderful of you to remember."
"Hey, you're one of my best friends."
"Thanks. I ah!" I yelp in surprise as Viggo's fingers start playing with my nipples under my tee-shirt.
"Are you okay?" Lij asks, concern lacing his voice.
"No, I'm fine," I stammer. "Just got a cramp."
"Yeah, a cramp named Viggo," the Ringbearer snickers. "And no, I don't want to know what he's doing to you. You've already traumatized me enough with your stories." I blush, remembering the time I got drunk and told Lij in great detail about the time Viggo and I had sex seven times in the span of a day. "So please, nothing about you and the pervy elf fancier."
"Lij sends his love," I inform Viggo, who's beginning to nibble at the ear that's not attached to the phone.
"Hey, Lij," my lover murmurs, his attention obviously not focused on the phone conversation.
"I can hear kissing!" Lij protests as Viggo laces a string of kisses down my neck.
"Yeah. Um, can I call you back later?" I ask as Viggo's morning erection brushes against my side through the thin cotton barriers of his boxers and my shirt.
"Sure. Just take the time difference into account."
"Okay. Bye, Lij."
"Happy birthday, man," he says.
After I hang up the phone, Viggo kisses me slowly and deeply, his tongue making lazy patterns inside my mouth. "Happy birthday, love," he breathes when he pulls away.
"Are you my gift?" I ask cheekily.
"Part of it," he laughs.
"Good."
"You're so beautiful, Orli," he marvels, a fingertip tracing my lips. "I still can't believe you're mine."
"Well, I am. I truly belong to you, body and soul. Do with me as you will."
"Is that a challenge?" His voice is deeper and huskier suddenly.
"Yes," I shiver. All I can think about is how long it's
been since we've made love. Viggo is always so incredibly sexy to
me, but when it's early in the morning and his hair is all tousled and
his body warm from the blankets, he's absolutely perfect.
"Enough talk," he says. He kisses me again, at first with the same lazy pace, but our hunger for each other quickly makes itself known as our tongues entwine and my hand tangles in his hair. Desire overcoming me, I push him to his back and pull off his sleep shirt.
"Need you." I begin assaulting his neck with quick nips of my teeth.
"It's *your* birthday," he protests weakly.
"Maybe this is what I want, Vig. To see you come undone." He always says that I undo him during sex, that he always feels so free. I love that I have the power to make him feel that way.
Viggo moans as I lick a nipple, teasing it to pebbly hardness before taking it with my teeth and pulling gently. The silky hair on his chest brushes against my face and I rub my cheek into the softness of it, feeling his heartbeat grow faster under his ribcage. The other nipple receives the same treatment, my teeth pulling a little bit harder this time.
I kiss back up to his mouth, sucking at his tongue. His hands clumsily pull at my shirt, and I pull away so I can quickly divest myself of my clothing. His boxers are similarly discarded, and we both groan as our naked bodies entwine, my cock jumping when it touches his own. Our mouths meet again and he's as hungry as I am, drawing my bottom lip between his teeth and biting it.
Once more, my mouth blazes a trail downwards, this time moving past his chest to briefly skim over his navel before taking the head of his weeping erection into my mouth and suckling it gently. Viggo's loud groan makes my blood just a little warmer and I take more of him inside; his flesh is hot and pulsing between my lips and is arousing me even further. I wrap a hand around my own erection, needing the friction.
"So good," Viggo says in a strained voice, but I pull away when I feel his palm on my stubbly scalp.
"No hands,"I instruct. "Just lie back and feel."
He grimaces but complies. Instead of sucking him again, I press open-mouthed kisses along the length of his cock, letting my tongue flick out against the thick shaft. Viggo is actually whimpering now, and as much as I'd like to let him come, I'm not ready for him to spend himself yet.
"Oh God, why are you stopping?" he moans when I pull away.
"I have something else in mind," I tell him, rummaging around
in the drawer of my bedside table until I find the small tube. He
grabs the it from me and pours some lube onto his shaking fingers.
"Let me." His fingers work deftly on my cock, applying the cool gel in a maddeningly tantalizing manner. "I've missed this so much," he says huskily. I take the lube and put some onto my own fingers, then slide the slick digits into his body. Viggo moans and pushes his hips down onto the intrusive fingers, wanting more. Pressing a quick kiss to his mouth, I throw the tube onto the floor and wrap his legs around my waist.
"I'm yours," I repeat. "And you're mine."
"Yes," Viggo confirms, the word ending in a gasp as I slowly push into his body, filling him inch by inch until I'm all the way inside. For a minute, all I can do is close my eyes and revel in the sensation of being trapped inside of him. When I feel Viggo's hips rocking in small circles under me, I force my eyes open and look at his face, made even more beautiful by desire. "Orli . . . move, please."
I pull back and thrust into him again, making us both gasp. Angling my hips differently, the second thrust hits that tiny gland inside of him and he groans loudly. His legs are still tight around my waist, preventing me from pulling back very far, but my shallow thrusts are all he needs right now. I'm absolutely lost in the feeling of the tight heat that's clinging to my cock, and I move faster.
Viggo is now thrusting his body up at me, still obeying my request to not use his hands, which are gripping the sheets so tightly I fear he'll rip them. His eyes are struggling to remain open, but they flutter closed for a second whenever I deliver a particularly hard thrust. My cock is now moving over his prostate with every stroke, and I know he's been close to orgasm ever since I entered him. My own climax is creeping up on me as well.
"Fuck," he gasps as he literally writhes under me. I put a hand on his cheek to still him, and he kisses my palm. When I see the love mingling with desire in his steel-blue eyes, I begin to lose control.
Not wanting to come before he does, I brush my fingers over his nipples, which are still sensitive from my earlier ministrations. That simple touch is what undoes him this time, and his eyes widen as he comes. I hear my name interspersed in his stream of words, an unintelligible mix of English and Danish. The look on his face is amazing, his eyes never leaving mine despite the intensity of his orgasm.
Just knowing that I've caused him such pleasure is enough to push me
over the edge, and I cry out his name as I release myself into his body.
Exhausted and completely satisfied, I fall onto him, using his chest as
a living pillow. I sigh contentedly as his arms wrap around me in
a possessive manner, and I could care less about the pool of stickiness
between us or the need for breakfast I can feel building in my stomach.
"Now that's what I call Elven hospitality," Viggo remarks.
I laugh loudly, causing him to chuckle as well.
"Do you mind if we don't move all day?"
"Well, *I* wouldn't, but I don't think it would be a good idea for your mother, sister, and best friend to find us in this position."
"Mmm. I suppose you're right." I slowly sit up, stretching my limbs and cracking my back. "Breakfast?"
"Shower," he says firmly.
Glancing down at the sweat and cum on our bodies, I laugh. "Yeah, a shower sounds good."
*****
Okay, so we make love in the shower. And after breakfast. It's not as if anyone could blame me, though. If *your* boyfriend was as bloody gorgeous as Viggo, wouldn't *you* want to spend most of your time naked and pressed against him? Besides, absence may make the heart grow fonder, but it also makes the lust burn brighter.
We go out to a small local restaurant for lunch and sit in the back, where no one looks at us. He tells me all about what Henry's been up to, and I talk about the new film I've signed on for. After lunch, we stroll around my neighborhood, and I show him all of the local places I love.
When we get back to my flat, there's a bouquet of flowers waiting at the door from Ian, along with a card wishing me good birthday sex. He's a cheeky old queen. Viggo helps me make the pasta dish I've selected, since any attempt to make dinner completely on my own would most likely result in a call to the fire department.
The bell rings, and I bound to the front door. Throwing it open, I grin and launch myself at my sister, kissing her cheek before giving a slightly less hyper embrace to my mum. "Happy birthday, Orlando," she says.
"Thanks, mum." I get the same greeting from Sam, and I stand back so they can enter the flat. Viggo comes out of the kitchen, looking slightly nervous. "Mum, Sam, this is Viggo. You know, the man I've been madly in love with for more than a year."
Viggo blushes and extends a hand to Sam, who shakes it with a smile. My mum, however, hugs him and kisses his cheek. "It's wonderful to meet you, Viggo."
"Well, it's wonderful to meet both of you," he says.
"Damn you, Orli," Sam sighs. "You just had to get a cuter
boyfriend than me."
And with that remark, the ice is broken. Viggo laughs and relaxes, and we all go into the living room to talk. Predictably, my mum and sister ask Viggo a million questions about himself, and also about Henry. They've both looked through my copy of Recent Forgeries and are curious about how he's able to do so many things so well. Neither of them had any problem with my sexuality, or with the age difference in the relationship, and are truly happy to finally meet Viggo.
Sam is in the middle of telling Viggo about what I was like as a child when I hear an insistent pounding on the door. "Open up, OB!" Atti cries.
"Well, it wouldn't be much of a night if Andre wasn't here," my mum says dryly. Luckily, she's used to Atti's antics and adores him.
I grin and open the door. "Hey, you daft cunt."
"That's the greeting I get? Fine, then you don't get a birthday kiss."
"Get your arse in here, Atti," I laugh.
He grabs me and kisses me square on the mouth before walking past me and swatting my behind on the way to the living room. "Oh, and happy birthday," he calls back to me.
By the time I rejoin everyone, Atti has deposited himself on Viggo's lap and is giving him a hug. Having already met my wonderful but completely insane best friend when he visited me in New Zealand, Viggo isn't exactly shocked. "So, when's dinner?" Atti asks.
"Shit, the pasta!" I cry. Sure enough, the water is bubbling over and spilling onto the floor, and I dive to turn off the stove. "Vig, you were supposed to help me with this!"
"I told you to set the timer," he chuckles. "It's not my fault you forgot."
"Is it ruined?"
"No." He pulls out a colander and drains the noodles. "Relax, we don't have to get take-out. But when you come visit me, you're not allowed in the kitchen without supervision."
*****
As it turns out, dinner is really good, and Atti is on his best behavior for the most part. There is a little comment he makes about the shape of my lips as I suck the pasta into my mouth that makes Sam kick him under the table, but other than that he's okay. Mum has supplied the dessert strawberry shortcake, the same as every other year. She always goes through hell trying to find strawberries in England at this time of year, so I smother her with kisses to show my appreciation.
"Okay, a toast," Atti proclaims as my mum dishes out the cake. "To OB, for not having killed himself skydiving or bungee-jumping just yet. May you have many more years of insanity ahead of you." Everyone raises their drinks and smiles at me.
"Thanks, I think." I take a bite of the cake and give my mum a thumbs-up.
"And to Viggo," Sam adds with a grin. "For making my brother happy. It means a lot to me."
"Thank you," Viggo says. "His happiness means a lot to me, too."
"Enough with the warm and fuzzy stuff," I declare, trying to hide my blush. "Where are my gifts?"
"Christ, you're worse than a two-year-old," Atti grumbles playfully as he hands me his gift. "Enjoy."
"Danke," I tell him. The card is laced with extremely obscene instructions for how to have fun on my birthday, and I don't dare read it out loud. The gift itself is wonderful two beautiful shirts for when we go clubbing.
"I know you're not trying to catch anyone's eye now that you're monogamous," Atti says, giving Viggo a wink, "but you still need to look good."
"Hey, I'm just glad they're not ruffled," Viggo laughs. "And remember, Atti, I'm depending on you to fend off those who proposition Orli when you two go to a club."
"Yeah, I'll have to beat 'em off with a stick. That pretty face is a magnet for drag queens and Eurotrash."
"But Atti, *you're* Eurotrash," Sam reminds him.
"Exactly," Atti explains, putting an arm around me and leering suggestively.
"Okay, moving on," my mum says, handing me a wrapped box. "Happy birthday, dear."
"Thanks, mum." Inside of the box is a scarf and a pair of gloves, and I know she must have ESP because I hadn't told her that my old winter gear is becoming threadbare. I give her a kiss and wrap the scarf around my neck, despite the warmth of the room.
"And here's my contribution," Sam tells me. It's two pairs of boxer shorts, one with dancing squirrels and one with smiley faces.
"Apparently no one trusts me to dress myself," I laugh.
"What, do you blame us?" she asks with a grin. "I mean, I've never seen your underwear collection, but if it's anything like the rest of your clothes, it needs serious help."
"You know, I don't have to take this abuse. It's my birthday, and you people are supposed to care about me."
"That's why we're working to improve your wardrobe," my mum says with a smile. "Now I think it's Viggo's turn."
"Okay," my lover says, putting a small pile on the table. "First, this is from Henry."
"He got me a gift?" I ask, grinning widely. "I absolutely love that kid." There's a really cute card that he made himself, obviously having inherited some of his dad's artistic talent. Under the shiny wrapping paper is a small stuffed dog that looks a bit like Maude.
"It's for when you go to film Black Hawk Down," Viggo explains. "So you don't miss your dog too much."
"That is *so* sweet of him. I have to call him later; don't let me forget."
"I won't. And *this* is from me." Opening the paper, I find three very small framed paintings, one a brilliant riot of bright colors, one a mix of swirling lines, and one a slightly abstract version of my face, my features blurry but still recognizable. All three are absolutely beautiful.
"Wow, these are just unbelievable," I say softly.
"They're based on my first impressions of you," he tells me as I pass the paintings around so everyone else can admire them. "The really bright and colorful one was the incredible energy you projected when we met, just hugging me and talking a mile a minute." I smile sheepishly, remembering how hyper and nervous I had been when I first met this incredibly beautiful man. "Then, the one with the swirls and contours is based on the grace and fluidity you projected when you became Legolas later that day. The third one is, well, your outer beauty, which I couldn't help but notice. I never do portraits, but I just had to paint this vision of you out of my head."
"Vig, they're really incredible." Everyone seconds my assessment, with my mum practically beaming at the love contained in the paintings.
"Thank you." He blushes a bit, uncomfortable with praise, and I kiss him.
"I love you."
"I love you, too."
"Orlando Bloom, a happily committed man," Atti says with a grin. "What has the world come to?"
*****
We clean up the dishes, and mum and Sam say goodbye, each giving Viggo a big hug before leaving. I keep my promise and call Lij, as well as ringing Henry and Ian to thank them for their gifts. Atti is talking enthusiastically about something or other with Viggo when I join them in the living room and sit down next to my lover, wrapping my arms around him.
"Should I leave so you two can get it on?" my best friend asks with a sly grin.
"Do you mind?" I joke.
"Actually, I had another gift to give you that I doubted you'd want your mum to see." Ignoring my glare, he pulls a small tube from his pants pocket and tosses it to me. "Strawberry-flavored lube. I figured since you always have strawberry shortcake on your birthday, these will be the berries, and I'm sure you'll both supply the cream."
"Oh for God's sake," I laugh, handing the tube to Viggo, who's grinning broadly. "You know, this is the second year in a row I've gotten lube for my birthday."
"Well, that's what happens when you have twisted fucks for friends," Atti says. "I should get going, though. I leave you boys to enjoy my gift."
"We will," Viggo assures him.
I stand and walk Atti to the door. "Thanks for coming."
"What, like I'd miss it?" he snorts. He hugs me tightly and gives me a kiss. "I know I've said it before, but he's a keeper. Don't fuck this up, OB."
"I'm not planning to. Love you, Atti."
"Ditto. Happy birthday."
When I return to the living room, Viggo's not there, but he's left a small note on the couch. "Bedroom," I read with a grin. Practically skipping to my room, I literally tackle him once I'm inside, kissing him hard and making us tumble onto the mattress. "You're the best," I tell him emphatically, my hands tugging at his sweater. "Fuckin' clothes," I growl as I fumble with the zipper of his jeans.
"Overeager, are we?" Viggo asks with amusement. "I'm not going
anywhere, love."
"Yeah, but it's my birthday, and I want you naked this minute."
I smile as the zipper complies with my haste, and his pants and boxers
join his sweater on the floor. Viggo kicks off his socks and starts
undressing me, his hands straying deliberately over sensitive areas in
the process.
"What do you want, Orlando?" he murmurs, his voice raspier than usual. "Anything you want" he squeezes my growing erection "you get."
"I want you . . . doing things." My I.Q. always drops about fifty points when Viggo gets me into bed.
He laughs and presses a soft bite to the underside of my chin. "Doing things? What kind of things?"
"Fuck, Viggo, you *know* what kind of things! Don't fucking torture me!" The slight shifting of his weight on the mattress is the only warning I get before my cock is completely surrounded by the wet warmth of Viggo's mouth. "Holy fuck," I hiss, willing myself to be still.
I'm surprised when he reaches up and takes my hands, guiding them to the back of his head. Understanding what he wants me to do, I begin to thrust up into his mouth, moaning as he lets me set the pace. Even as I push myself deeper, his tongue is somehow working around my cock, driving me even more crazy. My fingers tangle in his long hair and I move faster, my climax crashing down on me way too fast.
With a loud cry, I let myself go and he keeps sucking, welcoming my come as it hits his throat. "Jesus Christ, Vig," I gasp, staring at the ceiling and trying to catch my breath.
He kisses me deeply, and I slide a hand down his body to grasp his cock. "Orli," he moans as I begin to stroke him. "Not yet, love."
His lips and tongue begin a torturous descent down my body a nip here, a lick there, and so on. Skilled hands work me to hardness once again, and I gasp as I feel a lube-slicked finger circle my entrance, then push in. "Is that the strawberry-flavored stuff?" I manage to ask.
"Yeah." He stretches me with his fingers, then adds some more lube, pushing it inside of me and then smearing some around the edge of the opening. When I feel his hot breath at the entrance to my body, my breathing becomes shaky from the anticipation of his next move. A talented tongue moves in circles around the hole before the tip darts inside. "Open for me, love," he says soothingly.
I relax my muscles and try to stay calm, which is pretty much impossible when I have Viggo's tongue doing absolutely wicked things as it delves into my body. Gripping the headboard so hard that I'm sure it's going to break off, I push myself down onto the tongue that's fucking me. It ends too soon, Viggo pulling away despite my whimpered pleas for him to continue.
"Put it on me," he rasps, handing me the small tube. I grin and coat his cock with the lube, unable to resist flicking my tongue out for a quick taste.
"Hmm. I like," I tell him before licking the head of his erection, tasting strawberries along with Viggo's precum.
"Orli, if you keep doing that, this'll be over before it begins." I give him my best pouty look but lie back anyway. After all, I *am* looking forward to what comes next. Viggo takes my legs and hooks them over his shoulders, lifting my arse slightly off of the mattress. The first push makes us both moan as he fills me slowly, moving forwards until he's in completely and his hips are pressed firmly against my body.
"God," I whisper, twisting the sheets beneath my fingers.
"How do you want this?" he asks in a breathy voice. "Slow?" He pulls out and gently slides back in again. I shake my head no. "More like this?" The next stroke is hard and fast, and I nod furiously. "That's what I thought."
It always feels so good to lie back and just let Viggo lose control and drive as deeply into me as he can. In some weirdly comforting sense, it's almost as if he's branding me as his, like he's putting a sign on my arse that says "Property of Viggo Mortensen; Do Not Enter". Slow and gentle is wonderful, but when we get passionate to the point of combustibility . . . well, that's pretty damned nice, too.
Combustible is an apt description of the pace we're at now, Viggo doing the sexual version of reckless driving with hard and deep thrusts, hitting my prostate with almost every stroke. His hands are gripping my arse, holding it aloft at a perfect angle. Amazingly, this position never hurts my back; or maybe I'm just too lost in the pleasure to notice any achiness.
"Viggo," I whimper. "Feels so good."
He presses a kiss to one of my calves and smiles at me. "You're incredible." I can't hold back the cry that escapes me as he reaches for my cock and begins to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Collecting some of the fluid that's gathering at the head, he brings it to his mouth and sucks it off his fingers. The sight of that only drives me closer to the edge, and when he strokes me again, his own cock still pounding into my arse, I lose it and come on his hand and my stomach while shouting a string of obscenities.
Seconds later, Viggo reaches his own orgasm and cries my name while coating my insides with warmth. He slumps bonelessly onto me, and I wrap my arms around his body, feeling nothing but absolute bliss. My fingers thread through his hair and I kiss his forehead lovingly.
"Well," I finally say when I trust my voice enough to speak. "*That* was intense."
"Did I hurt you?" he asks, worry creasing his brow.
"You never hurt me," I assure him. He smiles and leans up to kiss me. "Thank you so much, Vig. I had the best birthday."
"I'm so glad." We separate just long enough to get cleaned up, and then settle back into a warm embrace. "I love you, Orlando."
"I love you more."
"We're *not* having this argument again," he laughs.
"Fine," I say, feigning annoyance. Viggo chuckles again and I nuzzle his neck. "G'night, Vig."
"Good night, Orli."
*****
Surprise, surprise we spend the day in bed on Sunday. Well, I mean not the *entire* day; we do go to the bathroom and grab some food from the kitchen, but other than that, we stay under the sheets, shagging, reading, and just talking. When Monday comes, I don't have the strength to go to the airport with him. We don't want to say goodbye in a place where we can't fully express our feelings.
"Are you all set?" I ask as he slings his duffel bag over his shoulder.
"Yeah." Viggo smiles sadly. "Don't forget to read the journal. I'm going to read yours on the plane" We've each finished our first relationship journal, and exchanged them this morning.
"I'm going to read it as soon as you leave," I promise. We stand there silent for a second. "Go on, you need to catch your flight."
"Okay. I'll see you in April, then."
I nod. "April." Three bloody months. I don't know how I'll be able to survive it. I can see the headline now: "Lovesick Lord of the Rings star goes crazy and jumps into the Thames."
"I love you, Orli," Viggo says fiercely, hugging me tight. "And
I had such a wonderful time this weekend."
"Me, too." I close my eyes, not wanting to cry in front
of him. "You really need to get going, Viggo."
"I know." We kiss for the hundredth time this morning, and I can see he's fighting tears as well.
"Call me when you get in, okay? And don't forget to give Henry a hug for me."
"I'll remember to do both." He smiles as I smooth his long hair. "Bye, Orli."
"Bye, Vig." I open the door for him and watch him walk out, turning to give me one last grin. "Bye," I say again, even though he can't hear me anymore.
Keeping my promise, I go into the living room and pick up Viggo's journal.
I look at the small paintings he's given me that are sitting on the table
and smile, their presence making me feel better. With Maude lying
content at my feet, I begin to read Viggo's words of love.
