Disclaimer: I Don't own Moulin Rouge… no mullah… yada yada yada. Doesn't mean I don't want Ewan McGregor.
Author's Note: This is my first Moulin Rouge Fic. I thought it would be interesting to get inside Christian's head before and after Satine. Please, no Flames. CC is ALWAYS welcome; I'm always open up for ideas and corrections. That and my beta is on a break right now.
I know this is short, but it's in honor of someone I know who shall remain nameless.
So this Is What Love is…
So this is what love is.
It's the urge to spin around until you get so dizzy you feel faint. It's wanting to scream your lungs out and leap for joy. It's not caring if anyone thinks you're an idiot or flat out crazy no matter what you do.
It's your cheeks flushing and your head reeling, while your stomach is doing flips, and you desperately need a glass of water, or you feel as though you'll die. It's your heart beating faster than the speed of light, though your trying to remain as calm as possible.
Love:
An infectious disease of which no antidote can be found, nor which the ill wants to be cured of.
Note: there will be a second chapter where Christian counters himself after Satine's Death. I know Christian would never be really bitter, but still…