Here I am, invading another fandom! Huzzah! This time it's Moulin Rouge, one of my all time favourite films.I've loved it for 3 years and this has been circulating around in my head for a few months now, so I figured I'd finally get it out. I wrote this on holiday in France actually! LoL.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Moulin Rouge, except the DVD and a Tolouse La Treac postcard print.

Absinthe Dreamer

Absinthe, Christian had discovered, was a pretty poor substitute for a lover. It gave him the most incredible headaches, it burnt his throat and caused hallucinations so vivid, he'd often embarassed himself by acting upon them. However, despite the downsides of the lethal emerald liquid, he found it infinitely preferable to facing the pain Satine's death had caused him.

For many months now, he'd been turning to the highly potent drink to relieve the indescribable ache he'd felt ever since that fateful day in the Moulin Rouge. The day his lover had been snatched from his arms by the only force greater than love, death.

This night was no different. Laid back on his moth-eaten, dirty bed, Christian was already hallucinating. The Green Fairy was trying to seduce him. He didn't even want to contemplate the dynamics of that situation, especially not in his current situation and so was attempting to reject her advances, somewhat unsucessfully.

It was as the fairy danced upon his crotch, whispering dirty sentiments, that Christian first saw her. The mouth, the body, the sparkling blue eyes, the woman that had driven him to this in the first place. Satine. He saw her as clear as day.He half expected her to tell him that her death was a fake, a way to get away from the Moulin Rouge so they could live a long and happy life together. He knew as a sad expression fell across her flawless features that this was not the case.

"Christian..." She began, her voice nothing more than a disappointed whisper, "Oh Christian..."

Christian tried to respond but found no words leaving his lips. The disappointment in Satine's voice had shamed him into silence.

"I told you to go on. To keep living." Satine said, "I see you and I have very different ideas of just what that entails."

"I'm sorry." Christian replied, almost inaudibly.

Satine approached him, "You can't keep doing this to youself Christian. This life will kill you. What good will come of that?"

"What good will come of my living?" Christian spoke up, carefully avoiding her eyes, "I've lost the only thing that has ever mattered to me. My life has no purpose!"

Satine held his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"You promised me you'd tell our story, Christian." Satine replied.

"I..." Christian choked, a stray tear falling across Satine's hand, "I can't."

"You promised me, Christian. Will you deny me my dying wish?"

Once again, Christian was shamed into silence. Satine smiled and leant in towards him, planting a light kiss upon his lips.

"Tell our story, Christian. Help the world see that true love still exists."

Satine pulled slowly away from Christian. His face felt cold were her ghostly hands had been.

"I will always be with you." were the final words Christian heard before he blacked out.

It could have been hours, or maybe days later when Christian finally came to. He didn't know and he didn't particularly care. He knew only one thing. He climbed slowly off his bed, clutching his aching head and sat in front of his long abandoned typewriter. He couldn't disappoint Satine. He began to type, pouring his heart out. Emotion fell into every word as he recounted the painful events which had brought him to where he was now.

As he removed the final sheet from the typewriter, he smiled. He looked up to the heavens and whispered: "This is for you, my love."

Love it? Hate it? Completely indifferent? Let me know:D