Emy (thefrenchgirl2) wrote,

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All of them, lies - Domlijah

So this is a sequel to Empty, which you can find in my journal. :)

[My writing is kind of odd at some points in the story... I think it was maybe because of the bad mood I was in when I wrote this... But in the end, it doesn't turn out too bad!]

Title :
All of them, lies

Author : Emy (thefrenchgirl2)

Pairing : Domlijah implied, Pam/Elijah, Dom/Evie

Rating : R

Warnings : Angst

Summary : Things are not always what they may seem.

Disclaimer : Never happened… Although, I like to think it did. :)

(Feedback would make my day, as always!)




All of them, lies




Things are not always what they may seem, people say. Because, yeah, we all know twenty-nine-year-old Elijah Wood seems happy, but if he had to tell the truth, he would say his whole life was just a mess…a lie – lies, that’s what he’s all about…a bunch of lies.


“You okay ‘Lij ?”

Nothing ever gets him out of his train of thoughts.


…No, that’s not true; just another lie. He only ignores the question, as usual.


“I’ll see you tomorrow, baby, okay ?”


This time he does answer : a small yeah, faintly breathed. She kisses him lovingly on the cheek and walks out the door.


Suddenly, everything feels better; but, blankly, he continues to stare at his cup of coffee : he likes it black, very black, very strong, and with a pack of cloves thank-you-very-much. It’s the best breakfast he can have; keeps him going more than anything else, especially after a bad night’s sleep. However, Elijah never sleeps peacefully, and he knows it.


A vibrating noise tears him out of the new fascination he has developed for the ashes falling from his cigarette - where was the fucking ashtray ?

It’s a text-message from Pamela – didn’t she leave like five minutes ago ?

He doesn’t even bother reading it.




When Dom wakes up that morning, he knows something’s going wrong but can’t figure out the meaning of it all. For a matter of facts, he doesn’t even know why he has this sinking feeling he has anything to do with it. And then it hits him -


“Where did you get that t-shirt, Evie ?”


“Uh… It was in your closet, the only clean one which didn’t have a stain or hole. You should do your laundry more often, it’s kinda gross.”


She was beautiful in the morning light, and the shirt was perfect on her : far too big, exposing tender flesh from her neck to her left shoulder and falling slightly under the round globes of her amazing ass… But this was so wrong -   


“I think you should take it off…”


“Oh, come on Dom ! Don’t start playing that game, it’s only ten !”


“Um… Evie, I’m serious. Take it off…”


It was an order, and Evie knows it this time, Dom is serious. She looks at him questioningly - what’s wrong ? But she obeys, slowly removing the fabric, exposing her naked body, and then throwing it at him in a rough movement. He catches it with one hand, the soft material caressing his skin, and, without any second thoughts, paying no attention to the suspicious stares Evie gives him, he brings the light piece of cotton to his nose. The scent fills his nostrils and he breathes fully, deeply… Oh God… he remembers.


“I had this really weird dream last night.”




Elijah doesn’t know how the knife ended up in his hands. Maybe the blade was appealing; it glowed, caught in the string of light coming in through the small kitchen window above the sink. It’s not the first time he finds himself in this delicate situation; it’s even becoming casual these past few months. Elijah never dares.




“Talk to me…”


Silence. That’s the only thing it has been since Dom had fell into the kitchen chair and had started staring blankly at his hands, his face tight and drawn, a look of concern painted on it. She, in the mean time, couldn’t stop her nerves from boiling while pacing around the kitchen, watching him in a sideways glance every ten seconds.


“I had this really weird dream last night.”


“Fuck Dominic ! What’s wrong ?”


Silence. Evie sighs, finally letting her body rest by leaning against the counter across the room from Dom. And then, he answers :


“Um, – God this is going to sound really really stupid and surprisingly fake to you but – I kind of have this strange… spiritual connection, with this guy…”


He pauses, catching Evie’s frown stare.


 “…A friend of mine. We sort of… communicate in our sleep.”


Evie wants to laugh – what was the point ? But she doesn’t, having the feeling this is too serious to laugh at.


“Elijah talked to me last night… I couldn’t remember it until I saw you.”


She doesn’t understand… Nevertheless, he doesn’t either.




“You talk in your sleep, you know that ?”


“Do I ?!”


“Yeah… I like it; you look like a little child, it’s cute !”


“What do I talk about ?”


“Many things… Me included !”


“Oh, fuck…”


“Elijah ! There’s nothing to be ashamed of ! I told you, I like it.”




“Shut up, kiss me.”




“What’ve I got to do with this ?”


Evie has always enjoyed playing Dom’s mind games. Yet, it irritates her this time, and frustration is clearly visible in her eyes and on her furrowed brow.


“I only realize it now…”


“Realize what ?”


Silence. Does he ever respond to the most important questions ?


“I’m sorry…I… I have to go !”


Ten seconds later, Evie’s left alone in the kitchen… She wants to cry, although she doesn’t know why. She hears the front door slam – he didn’t even bother taking his coat.




It’s raining in L.A. – how absurd ?


Elijah’s lying on the kitchen floor, Beatles’ music filling his ears. He’s bored… indeed, his whole life is boring. He had thought, after New-Zealand, he’d change; he had thought he’d become the person he’d always dreamed of being – sure of himself, a bit less geeky and boyish. Unfortunately, in the end, he was just the same Elijah Wood, even maybe a worse version of himself, but with enough money to live a peaceful lifetime. He laughs – or maybe it’s more like a bitter chuckle : a peaceful lifetime with the one I love… in your dreams kiddo !


However, for now on, all he wants is another cigarette… except he has chain-smoked the last three packets, one per hour, and is now too lazy to get up, run down to the nearest store and get some more.


His mother always said he smoked too much… She was right; his sister, his friends were right… Maybe he’ll die of cancer after all. It’ll even be some kind of relief. Because Elijah wants to die, and the quicker would be the best.




“Hey ‘Lij ! It’s me… Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call since you got back from filming but – this is gonna sound ridiculous – I’m worried about you. Call me, please.”


When Elijah doesn’t answer his phone, it means he doesn’t want to. Dom knows him well enough to anticipate his every move, each of his reactions, of his deepest feelings. Nonetheless, this time, he’s startled.


From the moment he woke up, Dom has known something’s been going wrong. He remembers Evie, dressed in Elijah’s favourite shirt. How could’ve she known…


And then, memories flow : Elijah, wearing the shirt and plane white boxer shorts, entering his kitchen with an I’ve-just-been-shagged morning hairdo, his eyes bright, simply looking beautiful; Elijah, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow; Elijah, underneath him, pleading him, begging him to go harder, faster.


Dom shakes his head and tries to concentrate back on the road before him. He doesn’t want to remember – not now, at least.




At some point, it occurs to Elijah he might as well check his cell phone. Just in case, you know. Because he’s not completely heartless, and he’s aware many people care about him, such as girlfriend-Pamela…


It’s already four in the afternoon and he has barely moved from the kitchen floor. After many thoughts, he reckons it might be the room he prefers apart from his bedroom. The tiles are cold on his skin, but they heat up after a while; there’s food, although he doesn’t even try to eat anything; there’s the fridge packed with beer, but most of all there’s a stereo and he doesn’t have to leave the room because his favourite CDs are always carelessly thrown in a pile next to it.


The Beatles are still playing… It’s been hours, the disc repeating itself over and over. Elijah doesn’t mind; he loves the Blue Album… simply loves the Beatles actually. Most of the songs speak to him, unconsciously reminding him of Dom and Billy – you couldn’t have worse Beatlemaniacs, especially Dom – and somehow, it makes him feel slightly better.


Helping himself up with a chair, Elijah crosses the hall to the living-room. Looking around, he finds proof yesterday evening indeed happened : the left-over dinner on the table, still waiting to be cleaned up, the wilting flowers… his shoes, discarded in the middle of the doorway. Perhaps the only intriguing fact is he doesn’t even remember what it felt like – kissing her, whispering declarations of love to her… fucking her. It seems Elijah’s senses have disappeared when it comes to this one word : love. Because we all know Elijah doesn’t love Pam – although it doesn’t occur to her; after all, he’s an actor, he can fool her easily – no, he cares for her… She’s a nice friend to rely on; she comforts him, makes him forget all of his troubles and worries… his desires, his jealousy…


He picks up his phone, impatiently waiting for his grasp, on the coffee table. Three messages – oh, well, less than I expected. The first one was from Pam, still unread from the morning.


“Elijah… You seem so sad lately, and I don’t know how to get you out of this state of blankness. You talked in your sleep last night, a lot more than usual. I think you should know you were speaking to your friend Dominic. Maybe he’ll be able to help you much more than I can.


I thought quite a lot last night – about us, about you. Indeed, I care very much about you ‘Lij, but how can I be sure of our love when you don’t let me in ? I have been trying to cope with it since the beginning of this relationship, yet, I can’t anymore. I’m worried, Elijah. I’m worried about your sanity, about how you spend all of your free days locked inside your house, – Yeah, I know about this –  how you don’t try eating anything and last night, I was shocked to see how your body changed in the past few months.


I know you Elijah, much more than you think I do and despite the fact you lock me out of your heart. And although I don’t know who, I know someone hurt you ‘Lij. But it’s been years now, and if you want my advice, I think you should face this pain, get rid of it, and stop hiding it under overwhelming work because it won’t stop pursuing you in any other case.


I love you Elijah. But please, push it away, and we will be beautiful.”





“Dom…Dom… Empty…So empty…”


“I know Lij’… I know…”


“It’s hard, Dom… I can’t do it anymore… Can’t…”


“You don’t have to, Elijah…”


“Miss you…Can’t hold it…”


“I miss you too…I need you.”


“Where are you ? ... She... Her... with you ?”


“I’m right here, ‘Lij… Right here…But yes, you have to face the truth, she is with me…”


“Leave… Empty… Not here, always empty… Always.”


“I had to leave…but I’m back now, I’ve been for a long time.”

“Go back… Wanna go back…”


“We can’t go back ‘Lij… It’s over now, New-Zealand’s over.”


“Exhausting… Can’t breathe…”


“You can breathe ‘Lij… You just don’t want to.”


“No…I don’t want to…”


“Please, Elijah, stop doing this to you… to me…”


“I love you… Not her… Never her… Only you… Only you, Dom… Always.”


“I know… I love you too…Always have.”




The man in the mirror always seems to be a better sight. Elijah is lost in himself, lost in his own reflection. He’s finally abandoned the kitchen for the bathroom – it’s warmer, and there’s this possibility of seeing this other image of himself. He never was a handsome man, was he ? His oh-so-pale skin glows in the bright light of the bathroom cabinet and his eyes, huge and round, don’t hide his emotions – for once, all of them are not lies.


Pam’s words resonate in his mind – he didn’t even bother reading his other messages, too disturbed by this first one. Will he make a change… make it right, one day ? For her ? Elijah knows he doesn’t have the strength to. He feels so small, so powerless.


Elijah never cries… but the tears force their way out, rolling down his smooth cheeks. Holding his own gaze, he feels himself disappear, little by little, becoming a shadow; his reflection only growing stronger, sucking him up and slowly out of this world. It’s worse as the years go by.


He remembers the knife he’d held earlier. Maybe he will dare someday…


He never heard the insistent knocking on his front door.







Tags: domlijah, fic

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