Mine
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Big surprise there.
Author's Note: My first evil Duke ficcy. He's so nasty... yuck! In this fic, the Duke thinks of his relationship with Satine.
* * *
The Duke watched as Satine danced gracefully and yet seductively across the stage, preparing for the big show. She was constantly working on the production, with little time for anything else. But for now he didn't mind, as long as he could watch her lithe body spin and her red hair shine in the stage lights.
She wasn't aware that he was watching, which was exactly how he wanted it. With her oblivious to his presence, she would be free to dance without feeling that she had to please him at the same time. Silly girl. She didn't know how she pleased him.
He had wanted her from the very moment she had descended to the dance floor on her swing. She had been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and to think that he had discovered her in a brothel!
A smile crossed his face. He had discovered her. He would be the one responsible for finding the next Sarah Bernhart. And she would be on his arm, ever the sweet and talented mistress. Marriage had never crossed his mind when thinking of her. After all, she was just a prostitute, not someone he could love. The thought made him laugh. Who could love a girl like her?
Though he didn't love her, he was still immensely jealous of his new found toy. He didn't even like it when the Argentinean touched or kissed her during rehearsals. He knew it meant nothing. After all, the Argentinean preferred to spend his time with the less expensive prostitutes. Satine was hands off outside of rehearsals, and everyone knew that.
Everyone knew, that is, except for that writer. Maybe it was paranoia, but it seemed to the Duke that everywhere Satine went, the writer tagged along like a lovesick puppy. He spent more time with her than the Duke did, which infuriated him. Of course, they did always have the excuse of working on the play, which the writer... what was his name... was constantly working on, writing as they went along. It seemed a strange thing to the Duke, to write a major production right off the top of one's head while it was being practiced and performed.
But that wasn't to say that he didn't like the play. He did. He especially liked that maharaja. He seemed like a capital fellow, not at all evil like the writer made him out to be.
Still, his beautiful Satine wouldn't have fallen for that pitiful creature, would she? The boy was just a penniless writer, not a duke like yours truly. Money was all that mattered to a prostitute, after all, and he had plenty of it to buy her love. After all, diamonds are a girl's best friend.
With that thought, he assured himself that nothing could possibly come between him and his Sparkling Diamond. He contented himself to watching the beautiful woman twirl and sing her way across the stage. After a moment, she happened to look up glance at where he was seated.
She looked slightly surprised for a moment, but then smiled and winked suggestively in his direction. He smiled back, trying to give her his best bedroom eyes. He had never realized that he bedroom eyes made him look like a constipated weasel. He didn't notice that Christian was standing slightly behind him, also watching Satine, so he also didn't realize that the seductive smile had been aimed at the writer, not the Duke.
But innocence is bliss, some say. He let his mind wander to another dinner in the Gothic Tower that he had planned and wander even further on to... dessert. He chuckled at his own pun. Tonight was the night, he was sure of it. "She is mine."
END
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Big surprise there.
Author's Note: My first evil Duke ficcy. He's so nasty... yuck! In this fic, the Duke thinks of his relationship with Satine.
* * *
The Duke watched as Satine danced gracefully and yet seductively across the stage, preparing for the big show. She was constantly working on the production, with little time for anything else. But for now he didn't mind, as long as he could watch her lithe body spin and her red hair shine in the stage lights.
She wasn't aware that he was watching, which was exactly how he wanted it. With her oblivious to his presence, she would be free to dance without feeling that she had to please him at the same time. Silly girl. She didn't know how she pleased him.
He had wanted her from the very moment she had descended to the dance floor on her swing. She had been the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and to think that he had discovered her in a brothel!
A smile crossed his face. He had discovered her. He would be the one responsible for finding the next Sarah Bernhart. And she would be on his arm, ever the sweet and talented mistress. Marriage had never crossed his mind when thinking of her. After all, she was just a prostitute, not someone he could love. The thought made him laugh. Who could love a girl like her?
Though he didn't love her, he was still immensely jealous of his new found toy. He didn't even like it when the Argentinean touched or kissed her during rehearsals. He knew it meant nothing. After all, the Argentinean preferred to spend his time with the less expensive prostitutes. Satine was hands off outside of rehearsals, and everyone knew that.
Everyone knew, that is, except for that writer. Maybe it was paranoia, but it seemed to the Duke that everywhere Satine went, the writer tagged along like a lovesick puppy. He spent more time with her than the Duke did, which infuriated him. Of course, they did always have the excuse of working on the play, which the writer... what was his name... was constantly working on, writing as they went along. It seemed a strange thing to the Duke, to write a major production right off the top of one's head while it was being practiced and performed.
But that wasn't to say that he didn't like the play. He did. He especially liked that maharaja. He seemed like a capital fellow, not at all evil like the writer made him out to be.
Still, his beautiful Satine wouldn't have fallen for that pitiful creature, would she? The boy was just a penniless writer, not a duke like yours truly. Money was all that mattered to a prostitute, after all, and he had plenty of it to buy her love. After all, diamonds are a girl's best friend.
With that thought, he assured himself that nothing could possibly come between him and his Sparkling Diamond. He contented himself to watching the beautiful woman twirl and sing her way across the stage. After a moment, she happened to look up glance at where he was seated.
She looked slightly surprised for a moment, but then smiled and winked suggestively in his direction. He smiled back, trying to give her his best bedroom eyes. He had never realized that he bedroom eyes made him look like a constipated weasel. He didn't notice that Christian was standing slightly behind him, also watching Satine, so he also didn't realize that the seductive smile had been aimed at the writer, not the Duke.
But innocence is bliss, some say. He let his mind wander to another dinner in the Gothic Tower that he had planned and wander even further on to... dessert. He chuckled at his own pun. Tonight was the night, he was sure of it. "She is mine."
END