Disclaimer: I don't own the movie Moulin Rouge, sadly, but I do own all my original characters, and this story.
Je t'aime (I love you)
Chapter 1
She sat alone in her bedroom, trembling. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. She had to do something, to get away. She made a decision, to get out of there. She reached for her dusty old suitcase that was on the bottom of her closet. Her rage was so immense, that she just threw a few cloths in there, and a few dollars. She didn't think about the long term effects, but at that precise moment, she didn't really care. All that mattered was her getting away from him. He was a beast, a monster, and every time she saw his face she wanted to strike him so hard, that he wouldn't wake up. After all, he deserved something of that nature. What right did he have to attack her? She never did anything wrong, but he still felt that it was ok to force her to do things she didn't want to do, and that it would be ok to hit her as often as he pleased.
She walked down the steps, very quietly, so she wouldn't wake him up. He was passed out on the couch, holding an empty drink in his hand. He needed a drink after his failed attempt at her. She knew this too, and thought she was home free, but when she turned the handle, she knew she was wrong. His eyes snapped open, and he stood up, and once she heard him coming she ran out the door. He, of course, followed her, and was yelling for her to stop. She knew what would happen if he caught her, but she wouldn't let it happen. Not this time, this time she was determined to leave; for good.
She kept running as fast as she could with a suitcase, but it proved to slow her. She got to the market, and she thought she was in luck. A lot of people were around, and maybe he'd lose sight of her. But she didn't estimate his determination to get her. She tried to run faster, but when she sped up, he sped up, and he was always hot on her tail. She was weaving in and out through the crowd, but then looked back to see how far behind her he was. Her eyes were welled up with tears by this point, because she was scared that she wasn't going to make it. When she looked front again, she ran straight into another man. He fell on the ground, and she fell next to him, and her suitcase flew open. She didn't even stop to pick up her suitcase; she just got up and almost started to run again, when someone caught her hand.
"Hey, what's the rush?" Said the man who she knocked down. She was severely crying now, because she knew he was getting closer.
"Please help me, please, he's coming, and he's going to hurt me, please you have to help me." She said frantically crying, and trying to get him to run with her. He stood up, and tried to hold her back.
"Calm down, no one is going to hurt you. Here, come with me." He said leading her to a back alley, and away from sight. They waited there for about 10 minutes; just to be sure he was not around. She was just sitting there, slowly drying her tears, and calming down. "Let me take you to my home, you can get cleaned up, and rest if you want." The man said to her. She looked up at him, and dried her eyes with her hand.
"Thank you." She said with a slight tremble in her voice. They walked for a while, when they came to the village of Montmartre. They started climbing up the hill, when they stood in front of this huge white church.
"It's beautiful." She said gazing at its entirety. He looked at her face.
"Haven't you ever been to Montmartre before?" He asked. She was still looking at the church when she replied,
"No. I haven't been much of anywhere." He pondered this for a moment, but then said,
"Come on, it's not much farther." She and he walked until they came to an old looking apartment building. They went in the door, and walked up the creaky old stairs to the sixth floor, and he took out a key, and unlocked the door to his not so stunning apartment.
He swung the door open, and it made a loud bang when it hit the opposite wall. The tossed the key onto his nightstand. She slowly walked into his room, unsure of what to think. She noticed a bathroom, a desk, one bed, a nightstand, a closet, and a rocking chair; and that was it. Everything looked very old, except for the shiny new looking typewriter resting on the desk. The desk also had many papers just strewn about in a random order all over it. When the man saw her looking over the room, he blushed slightly.
"I wasn't expecting anyone to be joining me home, so I'm afraid it's a bit untidy." He said briskly moving to the desk and straightening out the papers. She took a few more steps into the room.
"It's ok," she said, "anything's better than out there."
"Would you like to sit down?" He asked motioning to the chair. She nodded, and took a seat, and began rocking back and fourth. She took a deep breath in, and let it all out. The man sat on the bed, and just looked at her.
"So, what's your name?" She asked him breaking the silence.
"Christian; and you?" He asked her politely.
"I'm Stella, and I really appreciate you helping me out." She said with a very sincere look in her piercing blue eyes.
"It was not a problem; I hate to see people in trouble. I'm sorry you lost all your clothes." He said apologetically. She glanced down at her hands, and started fiddling with them.
"It's not your fault, only now I have no cloths and no money and no where to go." She said, trying not to make it sound like she was begging for pity. Christian looked around his room for a minute, and then looked at Stella again.
"You could stay here if you like. I could sleep in the chair." He said.
"Oh, no I couldn't, you don't even know me." She said trying not to impose upon a perfect stranger.
"No, really, it's perfectly alright. Please, it would mean the world to me." He said, trying to be suave.
"Well, alright, but the minute you want me to go, then just say so." She insisted. There was another awkward silence between the two.
"Excuse me, but if you don't mind me asking, why were you running from the man?" He asked hesitantly.
"Oh, well…" She said shakily "He was a friend of mine, and he got a little rough with me a few times, and I decided I needed to go away, but I guess he didn't like that idea too much." She said not revealing everything to Christian. He nodded in acceptance. "How old are you?" She asked Christian, being very blunt. He slightly laughed.
"I'm 28, and yourself?" He asked smiling.
"22." She replied. "Well, Christian, it's nice to meet you." She said smiling for the first time in a while.