Title: Cuts and Bruises
Disclaimer: I don't own anything in here except the story, Baz does.
Dedication: Madi, we are NEVER EVER fighting again. Ice cream will make it all better.
The notes she struck were high but clear and beautiful, like always. She was enchanting the men, taking them to a new world where their wives didn't matter. Only she mattered. She flipped her hair, the earrings jangled, making noise that was drowned out by the men. She used to thrive of their love for her, now she thrived off her love for him. She shifted her eyes across the dimly lit dance hall, she had to find him, risky she knew but she would do anything just to see him.
After minutes that seemed like hours of looking, she found her beloved. He was gazing at her, had been all the time she was onstage. She wanted to shout out how much she loved her poet, but she couldn't, the Duke was there too. She kept sight of him, he would be waiting for her after the show. She hurried her song, cutting short some of the longer notes, the band struggled to keep up with her. But the Duke would be waiting too. She would only have a few precious moments with him before she had to go to the Duke. She slowed down and caught a few dirty looks from the orchestra pit. She shrugged them off; she was the reason they were here after all. Without the Sparkling Diamond they would be on the streets.
A boy, young around 18, held out a necklace. It was diamonds. Her fingers were immediately attracted to it, they lingered over the cracks and curves of the jewels, why she began to wonder how they could afford such beautiful things. She smiled a sparkling smile. He was putty in her hands, play-dough she could mold into anything she wished.
Her song was winding down. She didn't want it to. She held onto the last note, making each note longer than the last. Only until she saw her beloved slip away did she end the song. She got on her swing and waited to be hoisted up, blowing kisses here and there. The men made their objections clear.
As soon as her feet touched the floor of the canopy above all the men, she ran to her dressing room, he was waiting. She stumbled up the stairs, tripping over her high heels. Since when were there so many stairs? They kept going on and on. After what seemed an eternity of the never-ending steps, she reached the landing and flung open the door. She quickly scanned the room.
He wasn't there.
She gasped and collapsed on the floor. Why wasn't he here, she thought, sobbing into her hands. She was shocked. He was always there. He would be standing in the doorway before she even finished climbing the stairway.
He doesn't love you anymore. The voice said inside her. It was taunting her. He was using you, and now as run away. He has no reason to stay.
"Shut up," She whispered.
He never loved you. It said, growing stronger and louder inside her head.
"No, no that's not true." She said, clutching her head.
It is you know it is.
"Shut up!" She said louder, clapping her hands over her ears. "SHUT UP!" She shouted.
"Satine!" She turned around, red eyes and all.
There he was. He was beaten. His eye was bruised, his forehead cut, his left arm a little limp and there was a bleeding scar across his chest. But… his first concern was Satine.
He rushed over and put her in his lap, cradling her head, smothering her with tears.
"When you weren't here…" She whispered. "I thought-"
"That I left you?" Satine choked and nodded.
"Darling I would never leave you. It hurts when I'm not around you. It pains me when I can't feel your lips against mine. And when I see you with the Duke," He shivered. "You can't imagine the agony I'm put through."
Satine sat up and gazed into his eyes, trying to find the truth, trying to decide if this was all an act.
"I love you, darling. I love you." She smiled then a sigh of relief. He kissed her. Passion enveloped them, for just a moment there was no Moulin Rouge or the Duke. There was only them, Christian and Satine.
Suddenly, Satine pulled away. She took one look at Christian and cursed.
She got up and walked to her vanity, taking cotton balls and a glass bottle in her hand.
"Sit." She commanded him. He sat down on the bed. She walked towards him, tipping the bottle over so the cotton on top of it grew wet with the liquid.
"What happened?" She asked him, toying with the cotton.
"I got mugged in the streets." He laughed. "Some thug thought I actually had money." He looked over her shoulder, somewhere past her. Satine knew he was thinking of the life that they could have if he did have some.
"It's doesn't matter Christian. We have each other, that makes us happy." She got up to get more cotton but he caught her hand.
"I don't have much money, but oh if I did. I'd buy us a big house where we both could live." He sang softly.
She nodded and leaned to his forehead. "I know," She whispered against it. "I know." She kissed his brow and got up for the cotton.
"Now," She turned around and looked at him. "I'm going to clean that nasty cut on my baby's chest." She sat down and leaned on his legs, poising the cotton.
"Wait." He pulled away from her. "Will it hurt?" He asked, looking into her eyes with surprising innocence, reminding her of an eight-year-old.
She laughed. "Not one bit."
He tilted towards her and waited. She smiled and brushed the drenched fluff against his skin. He cringed.
"Liar." He hissed.
"Would you have let me do it if I said otherwise?" She asked. He shook his head. "Now, come here, I'm almost through." He wouldn't come closer. "Christian, come here!" He slowly crawled away from her. "Get your butt back here." She grabbed his feet and yanked him back. He yelped but let her pull him.
"You know," He said. "I think I like it when you're aggressive." Annoyed Satine pushed the cotton into his skin; the liquid seeped through the cut, and Christian flinched in response. "Maybe not."
"There now," Satine said, putting the bottle and cotton back on the vanity. "All done. That didn't hurt to much did it?" He nodded. "Baby."
"Am not!" He yelled.
"Are too!" She yelled back. He stood up and scooped her into his arms. "Christian put me down." He didn't. "Christian if you don't put me down I swear I'll never ever talk to you again." He shrugged, she could feel it.
"OK." She was thrown onto the bed.
"Humph!" She told him. "You ruined my hair." She tried to fix it from the bed using the mirror.
"I." He said stepping onto the bed. "Am." He lay down beside her. "Not." He slithered an arm around her waist. "A." His face came closer. "Baby." His lips were on his, kissing her, making her feel wanted, making her feel loved. This is what she always wanted. How could she have doubted that he didn't love her?
She pulled away. She had not forgotten about the Duke. She stood up and walked to the mirror, leaving Christian alone on the bed.
Hastily she tried to fix her hair.
"Look what you did!" She exclaimed and looked at him.
He was propped up on his arm and looked adorable. She didn't want to leave.
"What are you going to do?" He asked coming to stand next to her.
"I'm going to tell him that I had womanly problems that have delayed me and will cut my meeting with him short. That way it will prove that I'm not pregnant from a certain penniless writer." She turned to face him.
"We can fix that." He said, smiling like a madman.
"No, we can't." She kissed him on last time she moved to the door.
When she left Christian was at the mirror.
"Is that a zit?" She heard him ask.
She shook her head. What would she do without him?