“If you don’t like it…”
“Are you kidding me? I love it!”
“Good,” he says.
See what I mean? As ridiculous as it seems, I’m falling for an orc.
Well, not a real orc. A man behind an orc character. Sometimes it occurs to me that Grak might not be a man at all. Would I still have these feelings? I don’t know. It’s not a switch I can turn off, now that I know so much about him.
I watch our characters exchange vows on the screen, followed by a chorus of cheers from half a dozen chipmunks and rabbits. Some gnome and halfling characters have shown up, too.
“Before we kiss, I have a few words to say,” Grak says.
Oh no. Oh dear. Am I really going to let him do this?
I close my eyes and get lost in the sound of his deep, soothing voice.
“Ginger468, we orcs are lonely people where I come from. Outwardly, we are grateful to work as protectors, guardians, and laborers in Santa’s village. But I’ve always wanted something more.”
Okay, so he’s perpetuated the whole mythology he’s created around his game character. Apparently, he’s an orc who works as a laborer at the North Pole and hasn’t been treated well. He enjoys working with his hands, but desperately wants to do so to take care of a family, not because it’s demanded of him.
“Well, I have news. After tonight, I won’t be in the game anymore.”
“Wait. What?” I say. “Why?”
He says, “I’m leaving all this behind for good, to spend Christmas how I please. With a sturdy woman warming my bed. That is my wish. That is my wish. What is your wish?”
Honestly, I’m still reeling from the sturdy woman comment. How would he know I’m sturdy? And why does it sound kind of hot coming from him?
What do I wish? He’s poured his heart out to me, in character, that is. I might as well get it out of my system so I can stop thinking about him.
“I wish for us to live a long and happy life together, Grak. But I will miss seeing you in the game.” And furthermore, I don’t want this poor person to live in a delusion that we’re going to be together in real life, either, but one step at a time.
“It’s settled then,” he says. “I will come to you tonight.”
My gosh, he sounds sincere. He should pursue acting instead of this North Pole gig, or whatever he does for a living in real life.
“I should warn you, it kind of feels like the North Pole here sometimes,” I joke with him. Living in Upstate New York is no picnic in the winter.
See that? He’s got me buying this fantasy again.
An elf cleric declares us married after a sweet hand-fasting ceremony, and then I watch as our characters kiss.
I could be crazy, but right at that moment, I feel something brush my lips.
I gasp.
Grak’s character pulls away from mine, and he says, “Is something wrong, my wife?”
I squeeze my legs together at those words. His wife? This isn’t real, Ginger. It’s an orc in a game. Get a grip.
I’m gentle with him because he has been my best friend—my only friend—for many months now.
“It’s weird,” I say. “I think my basement apartment is haunted because I felt something when you kissed me.”
“Soon you will feel more than a ghost of a kiss. I will be warming you with my entire body.”
“Oh,” I breathe, imagining what it would be like to have a giant green monster in my bed. He’d probably break the boxspring, if he were real.
