After all, it wasn't every day that Orlando fell in love. And with a co-star, at that. And not just any co-star, but Sean Bean. It wasn't like Orlando could help himself, really. There wasn't a more beautiful man alive than Sean. And it went far beyond his staggering, rugged good looks. It wasn't even his shy, gentle nature or his wicked sharp sense of humor. Every single thing about Sean appealed to him. Orlando watched Sean constantly, on set and off. Loved watching him move, loved watching him act, loved watching him cheering on his favorite team when they would get together to watch tapes of the matches. Every single day he was around Sean, he found new reasons to fall in love all over again. From watching him joke with Ian and Dave between takes, to taking pride in drinking John under the table during nights at the pub. From listening and soaking in every word as Sean held incredibly varied and colorful conversations with Viggo, to admiring Sean's cleverness when he played practical jokes on Dom or Billy – and the bright sound of Sean's laughter every time one of his jokes worked always made Orlando's heart race. Not to mention the teasing remarks, the light flirtations Sean leveled his way had him blushing, stammering, feeling like a mere schoolboy. Sean was so free, so open with everyone, had that incredible talent of looking at a person when they talked, instead of through them. It was the headiest sort of intoxication. And Orlando was so in love, his soul overflowed with it. But it was his secret – his own, precious, fragile secret – to keep. Maybe one day he might share it with Sean (and no one else), but for now, Orlando was content to keep it close to his chest.
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