Chapter 13

Playing With Fire

Back in Clopin's cabin, Coralie sat heavily in the bench next to the table. Esmeralda was outside dancing with Clopin and Djali, celebrating life, once again.

"Come out and dance with us Coral!" Clopin called.

She took the wine bottle on top of the table and drank from it. The rough liquid slid inside warming her spirit.

"What are you doing, Djali? Come back here!" Esmeralda shouted, outside.

Coralie heard her voice grow thinner and thinner, and she calculated that she was now pursuing he goat. She took another sip from the bottle and burped.

Clopin showed up in the entrance laughing and joking. He took Coralie's hair and scrambled it playfully, making her look like a savage animal.

"How did you know how to do all that stuff?" he said picking the bottle and drinking from it.

"I'm the clumsiest person in Paris, remember?" she growled, taking the bottle back from his hands. "If I didn't know a couple of things, I would be dead by now," she took a long sip. "Besides, my father surly got hurt just as easily. I used to watch maman cleanse his wounds."

"You saved Gerome's life, ma belle. I can never thank you enough."

"Actually, you're thanking me just by being alive. That's enough for me."

Clopin looked puzzled as she ended the wine in the bottle.

"I still don't get it. Why shouldn't I be alive?" he asked.

"Do you have any more of these around here?" she said handing him the empty bottle.

"Oui chatonne. But why should I be dead?" he insisted.

"Because Monsieur fils de pute said he was going to kill you if I didn't–" she paused and hiccupped. "If I didn't do as he said. I thought he had you Clopin," she said.

He grabbed a full bottle and handed it to her.

"So, you let him do all that to you because of me?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes. But don't be excited about it. I did it because I know how these people need and love you. They look up to you Clopin," she drank a little more.

His eyes were sparkling, or was it the wine effect? She got up and waved a bit, losing balance.

"Whoa, chatonne! You can't hold your liquor, eh?" Clopin said reaching and holding her before she fell, again.

"Oh, shut up," Coralie said. "Hey! Why don't you teach me how to dance? I'm fulfilling my part of the deal. Why aren't you?"

Clopin looked at her and laughed.

"Because when I tried, you hit me in the head," he said.

"Yes, right. But I was sober then, so I didn't really know what I was doing, right?"

"I don't see how being drunk is going to help," he mocked.

"Stop that, will you?" she said taking another long sip from the bottle before putting it down on the table. "Here, put your hand right here, no wait, here. Oh God, I can't find my waist."

Clopin rolled his eyes and put his hand on the curve of her waist.

"I don't think this is a good idea," he said.

"Shut up and grab, Monsieur Rainbow. You talk too much."

"Ah, ma petite chat–"

She silenced him putting a finger on his lips.

"No talking, just dance, alright?"

Clopin smirked and started to move with her in short circles. Her steps, obviously unsteady, were growing more and more irregular, as he swirled around the tent. She started to hum a melody, giving music to their dancing.

Everything was going surprisingly fine, until Coralie tripped on her own feet and fell forward using Clopin as a mattress. She rolled of him and laughed out and joyfully.

"You are terrible, chatonne," he said leaning on his elbows.

"My foot hurts, and you are a terrible professor, Monsieur Trouillefou. But you are an amazing mattress, I can assure you that," she laughed, and then laid her head on his chest.

"Esmeralda learned everything from me, so I know I'm a great instructor," he sighed. "You know, you are quite impossible when you drink," he said.

"Lucky you. You are impossible pretty much all the time, and you don't hear me complain, do you?" she said with a bitter tone.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"You heard me. You are always singing like a nightingale and dancing like a– uh–"

"Like a gypsy?"

"Yes, exactly. You are being perfect all the time and making me want you. Why do you make me want you? Oh, where did I leave that bottle?"

He sat up on the floor and looked down at her. 'She wants me?' he thought. Her head had descended from his chest to his lap as he got up. Her long hair was like a dark blanket, covering his legs.

"Chatonne?"

"Quoi?"

"What do you mean when you say that I make you want me?" Clopin asked.

"I mean that you make me want you. What's the doubt?" she said with her eyes closed.

"You are drunk, ma petite, you don't know what you're saying," he joked.

"I'm saying what I don't have the courage to say while sober, mon coeur," she whispered.

He bent over her and brushed a lock of dark hair from her face, revealing her freckles and rosy cheeks. He smirked at the sight, feeling a tight knot in his stomach.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much, ma chatonne," he said. "It's not proper for a lady to drink like that."

"You are doubting me, aren't you?" she said sitting up and looking deeply in his eyes.

"Well– I'm not completely convinced that–"

"I told you once Clopin Trouillefou, I am not a liar," she said.

Then, much for Clopin's surprise, she got up and prepared to walk out of his cabin, grabbing the wine bottle on her way out. He jolted up and followed her, grabbing her arm.

"Chatonne, wait. Don't be offended please. I'm just sceptical about this," he said tenderly.

"Oh, go sing that song in another parade, Clopin. You are always sceptical about something. Why should this time be any different? I don't even know why I'm so surprised," she said.

"You shouldn't play with a man's heart like this, you know Coral?" he yelled.

"Don't yell at me! And let go of my arm!" she demanded.

He turned to her and held her shoulders.

"I am going to kiss your lips now. And I am going to give you time to back up if you don't want. But I am warning you, ma petite chat, if you let me start, I don't know when I'm going to be able to stop," he whispered.

He leaned towards her slowly, giving her time just like he promised. Coralie's eyes were fixing his closely, as her head battled through the question. 'Back up? Don't back up? Back up?' she mumbled. 'Oh, what the hell, don't back up,' she though as she leaned forwards closing the space between them.

He gladly held her against him, letting go the sheet that gave entrance to his cabin. She put the bottle down and embraced his shoulders and tangled her hand in his shoulder-length dark hair. He took a couple of steps inside the tent, never letting go of her lips. The kiss was hard and passionate and he heard her moan huskily.

Coralie felt the floor beneath her fail as she fell back into Clopin's bed. Her anklet jingled mockingly as her leg curled with his in a full body embrace. Finally, the need for air became pretty much hard to ignore and they had to part. She adjusted her head on his many pillows and he rolled of her, lying by her side.

He brushed her hair softly and kissed her freckles and lips, caressing her golden skin. She closed her eyes savouring his touch and cuddled up against his chest, losing herself in his embrace.

A/N: God. Was that fluffy or was that fluffy?

Anyway, don't forget to Review por favor.

Music suggestion: Damned If I Do - Jace Everett

Next: A Man In Pain

*Bloo*