He spotted them on the stairwell. Her laughing filled his ears, and he had
to look away. It was all so. risky. They both could be ruined. They could
both could end before they had even started.
It was all his fault. Before him, she did her job. She acted like she was supposed to. Never as good with her lines than she was now, but that was normal.
It was all his fault.
The Argentinean looked back at them, Satine resting her head on the wall, her arms draped over Christians. He smiled at her and leaned in, closer, closer, and then suddenly dipped her toward the ground. She let out a loud, playful scream as he lost his balance and they both toppled to the ground.
"Get up," she giggled, playing with his hair. "I told you I couldn't stay very long."
"I think I broke something," her murmured, smiling. "I think it'd be best if I didn't move and worsen my condition."
"Yes, I suppose it would. And we wouldn't want that." She struggled with a serious face, but a smile crept up along the corners. "You're not so bad to have around."
" 'Not so bad', huh?" he laughed, kissing her hair. He sighed. "Darling, do you really have to leave?"
She rubbed his cheeks with the back of her hands. "Yes," she whispered, the laughter gone from her eyes. "He's expecting me at eight. Harold said there was some surprise from the Duke and-"
He silenced her, leaning down and kissing her lips feverishly. When Christian lifted his head, his eyes still closed, he laid his head on her chest. "Don't say his name. don't say anything right now."
Satine smiled, complying, and smoothed back his hair. They stayed that way for a long time, lying in the middle of the hall in each other's arms.
Satine sighed, closing her eyes on the small tear that was forming in her eye. She touched Christian's arm lightly and whispered his name. He nodded slowly and got to his feet, extending his hands out for her.
He brought her in close. "I love you," he whispered, his lips pressed against hers.
She slowly blinked. "I love you," she breathed, resting her cheek against his. Her face leaned away and she took a deep breath.
Christian held her chin. "Come what may, remember?" he said. She stared into his sky-blue eyes and nodded. "What ever happens, we love one another. We'll get through this."
"I know. It's just. hard." She forced a smile and kissed him slowly. "I better go," she whispered.
Christian nodded, not able to say anything else, and held her hand until they were outside on the street. Their fingers slowly untwined as she started down the street. Christian watched her go through the gate of the Rouge and close it behind her, turning back to him and blowing him a kiss, and disappearing behind the many bushes and shrubs.
Christian rested his head on the doorframe, wondering why such a perfect thing had to be so hard. They were meant to be together - it was their destiny. If there wasn't only the Duke of Monroth.
Even his name sent chills up Christian's spine. That rat bastard kept Satine on a tight leash, clipped her wings, and still had the nerve to say they were in love. Everyday he wanted to tell him the truth, and in his dreams he did do it, and the Duke's wide-eyed expression was priceless.
Christian shook his head, turning away from the doorway and making his was up the stairs. What was he kidding? It was all so. risky. The maharaja could ruin them both. Their lives could both end before they had even started, thanks to the jealous maharaja.
But, Christian mused with a smile, he loved her. He loved her with every fiber of his being. Every night, watching her sleep in his arms, he wondered how he had lived at all before her. "How wonderful life is, now you're in the world," he sang softly, a smile playing on his lips.
A loud stamp returned Christian to his senses and he looked into the steel- colored eyes of the narcoleptic Argentinean.
"Oh, hello," Christian whispered, waving his hand, signaling the Argentinean to move from the stairwell.
The Argentinean just shook his head. "Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. it always ends BAD!"
"What are you talking about?" Christian asked.
"This play will make both of us. a star," he whispered, kissing his fingers and opened his fist with a pop. "If the real maharaja were to find out." He shook his head. "You will ruin my career!"
"I-" Christian started.
"That prostitute of yours. this is all she is. If he finds out. see if love lasts when dreaming ends!"
The Argentinean shoved past Christian, and the penniless poet stood paralyzed. The biting words echoed through his head.
When he finally found enough strength to talk, it was too late because he was gone, but Christian yelled it anyway. "What about your ideals, huh? Truth, beauty, freedom. but above all things love!" Christian shook his head, resting his forehead on the wall. "If you could only see," he whispered, pumping his fist into the wall.
He turned away and stepped into his doorway, glancing where the Argentinean, in one of his narcoleptic spills, broke through his ceiling. "If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love, and what I must do."
He walked over to his fireplace mantel and picked up a picture - a photograph of Satine in one of her many dazzling costumes. "If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says. when she says she loves me."
The Argentinean. what did he know? He had his career on the line, but what about what he believed in? What about love? "Well you got your reasons. And you got your lies. And you got your manipulations. They cut me down to size."
A courtesan isn't supposed to love. but it's too late. They can't let go, no matter how bad things got. "Seems the road less traveled. Show's happiness unraveled." He was in love. everything he touched, every breath told him so. Nothing could make him keep away from her, the most perfect woman in the world. "And you got to take a little dirt, to keep what you love. That's what you gotta do."
Christian straightened up and smiled at the picture, gingerly putting it down, but the Argentinean's words still stung. All his believes. were they just for show? "Sayin' you love but you don't, you give your love but you won't. You're stretching out your arms to something that's just not there. Sayin' you love where you stand, give your heart when you can."
Christian sighed, sitting on his bed and glancing toward the Rouge. "If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love and what I must do. If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says."
He saw the blur of red hair, tamed under a black hat, walking in the garden inside the Rouge gate. Next to her was a man with straw-colored hair, his arm securely around her waist. Christian looked away and back to the picture on the mantle. ".When she says she loves me."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Um, well, 'If You Could Only See' is on my Now 1 CD and I thought it was a PERFECT 'Roxanne' type of song. But I decided to use it for this anyway. I am not quite sure what feeling this story ends on - I guess it depends on how you think about it. I hope you guy's enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And please review! It means a lot to us authors.
SONGS USED: 'Come What May' written by David Baerwald 'Your Song' by Elton John 'If You Could Only See' by Tonic
It was all his fault. Before him, she did her job. She acted like she was supposed to. Never as good with her lines than she was now, but that was normal.
It was all his fault.
The Argentinean looked back at them, Satine resting her head on the wall, her arms draped over Christians. He smiled at her and leaned in, closer, closer, and then suddenly dipped her toward the ground. She let out a loud, playful scream as he lost his balance and they both toppled to the ground.
"Get up," she giggled, playing with his hair. "I told you I couldn't stay very long."
"I think I broke something," her murmured, smiling. "I think it'd be best if I didn't move and worsen my condition."
"Yes, I suppose it would. And we wouldn't want that." She struggled with a serious face, but a smile crept up along the corners. "You're not so bad to have around."
" 'Not so bad', huh?" he laughed, kissing her hair. He sighed. "Darling, do you really have to leave?"
She rubbed his cheeks with the back of her hands. "Yes," she whispered, the laughter gone from her eyes. "He's expecting me at eight. Harold said there was some surprise from the Duke and-"
He silenced her, leaning down and kissing her lips feverishly. When Christian lifted his head, his eyes still closed, he laid his head on her chest. "Don't say his name. don't say anything right now."
Satine smiled, complying, and smoothed back his hair. They stayed that way for a long time, lying in the middle of the hall in each other's arms.
Satine sighed, closing her eyes on the small tear that was forming in her eye. She touched Christian's arm lightly and whispered his name. He nodded slowly and got to his feet, extending his hands out for her.
He brought her in close. "I love you," he whispered, his lips pressed against hers.
She slowly blinked. "I love you," she breathed, resting her cheek against his. Her face leaned away and she took a deep breath.
Christian held her chin. "Come what may, remember?" he said. She stared into his sky-blue eyes and nodded. "What ever happens, we love one another. We'll get through this."
"I know. It's just. hard." She forced a smile and kissed him slowly. "I better go," she whispered.
Christian nodded, not able to say anything else, and held her hand until they were outside on the street. Their fingers slowly untwined as she started down the street. Christian watched her go through the gate of the Rouge and close it behind her, turning back to him and blowing him a kiss, and disappearing behind the many bushes and shrubs.
Christian rested his head on the doorframe, wondering why such a perfect thing had to be so hard. They were meant to be together - it was their destiny. If there wasn't only the Duke of Monroth.
Even his name sent chills up Christian's spine. That rat bastard kept Satine on a tight leash, clipped her wings, and still had the nerve to say they were in love. Everyday he wanted to tell him the truth, and in his dreams he did do it, and the Duke's wide-eyed expression was priceless.
Christian shook his head, turning away from the doorway and making his was up the stairs. What was he kidding? It was all so. risky. The maharaja could ruin them both. Their lives could both end before they had even started, thanks to the jealous maharaja.
But, Christian mused with a smile, he loved her. He loved her with every fiber of his being. Every night, watching her sleep in his arms, he wondered how he had lived at all before her. "How wonderful life is, now you're in the world," he sang softly, a smile playing on his lips.
A loud stamp returned Christian to his senses and he looked into the steel- colored eyes of the narcoleptic Argentinean.
"Oh, hello," Christian whispered, waving his hand, signaling the Argentinean to move from the stairwell.
The Argentinean just shook his head. "Never fall in love with a woman who sells herself. it always ends BAD!"
"What are you talking about?" Christian asked.
"This play will make both of us. a star," he whispered, kissing his fingers and opened his fist with a pop. "If the real maharaja were to find out." He shook his head. "You will ruin my career!"
"I-" Christian started.
"That prostitute of yours. this is all she is. If he finds out. see if love lasts when dreaming ends!"
The Argentinean shoved past Christian, and the penniless poet stood paralyzed. The biting words echoed through his head.
When he finally found enough strength to talk, it was too late because he was gone, but Christian yelled it anyway. "What about your ideals, huh? Truth, beauty, freedom. but above all things love!" Christian shook his head, resting his forehead on the wall. "If you could only see," he whispered, pumping his fist into the wall.
He turned away and stepped into his doorway, glancing where the Argentinean, in one of his narcoleptic spills, broke through his ceiling. "If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love, and what I must do."
He walked over to his fireplace mantel and picked up a picture - a photograph of Satine in one of her many dazzling costumes. "If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says. when she says she loves me."
The Argentinean. what did he know? He had his career on the line, but what about what he believed in? What about love? "Well you got your reasons. And you got your lies. And you got your manipulations. They cut me down to size."
A courtesan isn't supposed to love. but it's too late. They can't let go, no matter how bad things got. "Seems the road less traveled. Show's happiness unraveled." He was in love. everything he touched, every breath told him so. Nothing could make him keep away from her, the most perfect woman in the world. "And you got to take a little dirt, to keep what you love. That's what you gotta do."
Christian straightened up and smiled at the picture, gingerly putting it down, but the Argentinean's words still stung. All his believes. were they just for show? "Sayin' you love but you don't, you give your love but you won't. You're stretching out your arms to something that's just not there. Sayin' you love where you stand, give your heart when you can."
Christian sighed, sitting on his bed and glancing toward the Rouge. "If you could only see the way she loves me, then maybe you would understand why I feel this way about our love and what I must do. If you could only see how blue her eyes can be when she says."
He saw the blur of red hair, tamed under a black hat, walking in the garden inside the Rouge gate. Next to her was a man with straw-colored hair, his arm securely around her waist. Christian looked away and back to the picture on the mantle. ".When she says she loves me."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------- Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, not even Christian. ::sigh::
Author's Note: Um, well, 'If You Could Only See' is on my Now 1 CD and I thought it was a PERFECT 'Roxanne' type of song. But I decided to use it for this anyway. I am not quite sure what feeling this story ends on - I guess it depends on how you think about it. I hope you guy's enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And please review! It means a lot to us authors.
SONGS USED: 'Come What May' written by David Baerwald 'Your Song' by Elton John 'If You Could Only See' by Tonic
