"It's late." "Yes it is." Christian and Satine sat quietly, in the darkened room, with nothing between them now but a breath. Out side, the lights blared and the music blinded all those drowning in it. Swirling colors of pouty lips and long eyelashes mixed with the shadows of hungry fingers and lustful eyes. They danced together the colors and shadows, violently, deliriously, with total sexual abandon. Hips ground with hips, inviting the highest bidder. Nimble hands caressed erect attentions. These were the sights of le Moulin Rouge. The red palace was always ready and open for willing customers.

But above the hazy world where a cold wind of reality blew, inside the decadent "Indian pachyderm" sat two figures, two lonely lives trying to find a link. They had talked, they had talked for so long, and now the night was hastily dripping and melting away to expose the daylight, taking with it the magic of darkness, and the time for talking was done. The lights were off. It had been hard enough for them to talk to each other. They were so scared and yet so eager. But the extravagant setting with its bright reds of Indian silks and afghans, gold trinkets, and décor that was overtly sexual and passion inducing had made it nearly impossible.

Christian had blushed deeply until the immodest Satine had turned out the lights. They had lit a few candles to make sure they had some light. He now stared at her, his blue eyes like writer's ink curtained by his dark hair boyishly ruffled. His was the face of truth and freedom. He had the world at his fingertips like grapes on the vine and with his talent and idealistic naiveté he was going to change the world. Or change her life, Satine thought. She laughed inwardly. Isn't that what she'd wanted forever? Her flame red hair shielded her face from him and it was filled with fear. Her lips, stained with the blood of her lost innocence were smeared slightly. Her smoky charcoal smudges framed her eyes blue as tears. She was beauty in all its saddest form, a bird beating her wings madly against her cage, trapped by obligation, a low sense of self worth, and choking, maddening fear.

She looked up and the silence was broken like a dam. His face made her head scream with songs. It deafened her, it was a euphonious cacophony(if there is such a thing) of … she couldn't tell. It wasn't clear. Maybe she didn't know yet. Nevertheless, she had to interrupt the din.

"Perhaps you should go." She said quietly eyes focused on the floor. She was hiding her struggle. She didn't want him to go, but she knew he had to. Didn't he? "Yes, yes", she thought, he did.

Christian's heart sank. "To leave her, alone here, without anyone, without me?" he thought. He knew he should go, it was a dangerous game they were playing. The consequences for not paying and eating up the courtesan's time at the Moulin Rouge was severe, especially when a client as important as the Duke was there. Still, he couldn't, it was as if something would not let him. He had to stay, he had to be with her.

"I can't." he blurted out, his hands shaking.

"What?" Satine questioned with feigned irritation, while her heart soared higher than the Parisian fog.

" I can't leave you. Not after all that's happened. Look I know that what we're doing is wrong and that what I did earlier was dangerous and could have gotten us both into trouble. I know that although things have worked out so far, you said that we couldn't be together, but I can't leave. I feel that I shouldn't, I feel that this moment feels more right than any moment I've had since I've been alive. And its because I'm with you. I think-"

" You think what?" Satine whispered. He wanted to say it, he wanted to with all his heart. "I think I love you." How hard could it be? He feared her response. What would she say? If she said yes…would she mean it? Would it all be another act? Another great role for the talented courtesan. The thought that she had said those three words for other men drove him mad. But he couldn't say it, could he? Did he dare. His eyes trembled, his hands went icy and ached for her.

" I think, I don't want to leave," he said hastily, losing the courage at the last moment.

"Oh." Satine sighed her breath caressing the last sounds. She was disappointed and joyous at the same time. The effect of their words slowly flittered out of the air. Now again came the deafening silence. Their gazes wandered for a moment around the dimly lit room. This was Christian's first time at the Moulin Rouge and he did find it breathtaking. Satine had been in this room many times before and now she just stared at it in contempt. She shivered as she realized that she was sitting on the bed. Sitting on the bed that she had used to service the cold impersonal businessmen who came here for her body. They came so quickly, ushered in by Harold Zidler's elaborate words.

"She's so beautiful that I'm sure that you'll never be able to think of another woman like you think of my little Satine." He then presented her to the men, who ravished her with their dirty gazes. When the door closed they drooled over her and came for her. Most of the time they wanted to play the game of master over slave, and she did it well, mechanically, and they never noticed. She had learned to separate herself from it all. As they took what they wanted she went somewhere else, a place where she knew someone would love her just for her, and would treat her like a person, instead of a slave. Someone who would never want to hurt her, or run away, or be to rough with her when they were in bed and then receive pleasure from her yips of pain. She would find someone who loved her, totally. And want absolutely nothing else than to be with her. "But it'll never be real," she thought to herself coldly " it will never be real. I can't fall in love with anyone. I have to stay here." She snapped out of her thoughts and realized that Christian was staring at her, with curious eyes.

"I liked your song." She blurted out, after looking up into his gaze and hearing the songs scream in her head.

"Thank you. I thought of it as I looked at you."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Yes." Christian blushed. " I just felt inspiration."

"Inspiration from what?"

"Your beauty." Christian was dying inside. "How could I say that?" he thought, " Now she's going to think your pathetic."

Satine's mind exploded. He made it up, after just looking at me? She felt her chest swell and get tight at the same time. A burst of nervous energy made her flush. "Me? Me? Just because of me?" she thought.

"Thank you so much." She said. Her smile was wide and genuine.

"You mean, you don't think I'm pathetic?" Christian asked in surprise.

"How could I ever think that? You're wonderful, I've never met a man like you Christian."

" You've only just met me."

"Yes. But it feels like I've always known you exist, somewhere in the back of my head." Now it was her turn to blush. Damnit, what was wrong with her? She hadn't blushed in forever. Blushing didn't become her anymore. Blushing was for girls who hadn't seen the things she'd seen.

" I feel that way too." Christian replied. He looked at her, desire now clouding his eyes. His body heat was so great it permeated her skin. He had the look of pure want on his face, like her clients, but there was no cruelty, no dirtiness, just pure lust and love and sexual frenzy. It excited her in a way like she thought in never would.

"You're my muse."

She blossomed, then quickly shoved it down. Why was he so hard to resist? He called to her so blatantly, with his body, with his eyes, with his words. Was this the reason? That he had no pride or arrogance. That he seemed so…alive. Unrehearsed, unlike anything she had known. "But I can't fall in love," she thought to herself, I can't fall in love. Love is for those who can afford it. Everything I've ever had was given to me by satisfied patrons." But she wanted to. She wanted to give herself completely. She wanted to stop pushing all the good things away.

"What is she thinking?" Christian thought. "God she's so ethereal. I need her now." He wanted to fall at her feet and tell her he loved her. He wanted to give her everything he had. He wanted to tell her that it didn't matter what she was, he would take her away from all that, start a future with her, and dare anyone to try to stop him. He wanted to tell her he'd always protect her. He looked at her. She was staring into space, pain etched in her features. Her lips were smooth and called to be touched. Her body was cold and he wanted to warm it so, to make it glow with heat and passion. He couldn't take it anymore.

Christian pushed himself towards Satine and lay his head on her knees. She yelped in surprise.

" Satine I love you," he whispered furiously,"I love you so much. I want to give you everything. I know this sounds insane, especially because we barely know each other, but I love you. I never want to hurt you and I don't care about your past life, all that matters is our future," he stopped gushing and looked at her intently, "I want all of you. And I promise that I'll protect you, and never let you go…"

'I had the sense to recognize that I don't know how to let you go,

I don't know how to let you go.

My hearts a burning ember, burning hot and burning slow,

deep within I know I'm shaken with the violence of suddenly existing for only you.

I know I can't be with you, I do what I have to do,

I know I can't be with you I do what I have to do.

But I don't know how to let you go.'(McLachlan/Wolstenholme)(A few words added by author)

" Oh Christian!" Satine fell to the floor. " I never thought, I never could think that…"

"What?" he asked worriedly.

" That someone like you could ever find me here in this place."

" I would have gone to the ends of the earth, if I had known I would find you." As they hugged, their lips brushed together. They were soon kissing, long and deep, with no thoughts but each other. They both knew what was going to happen next, and they wanted it so desperately.