Days went by, and before long almost two weeks had passed since Alyse first came to the Moulin Rouge. The cast was well into rehearsals for the play and things were going well. The sets were being built, the costumes sewn, the actors were learning their lines. The play had finally been finished, with the promised romantic ending. Alyse was slowly losing her nerves each day. Each time she stepped onto the stage was easier than the previous time, and she had to owe a large part of that to Christian. He worked with each member of the cast, as a group and one on one, to make sure they understood his visions of the characters. He was patient and helpful with everyone, answering questions and rewriting whatever was necessary to make the role fit the actor. It seemed to Alyse that he spent a lot of time with her, but perhaps she felt that way because they spent almost every evening together.

It had started with the night she'd told him about her family, and continued from there. After she came home at night--because Christian usually left before she did--she'd change her clothes and wander across the hall to see what he was doing. He was almost always at his typewriter. Once he'd finished the play, he'd decided he wanted to try his hand at writing a novel. He'd been feeling inspired lately, more than he had in years, and so each night he sat at his table, tapping away at the keys with his two-fingered method, his brain coming up with ideas faster than he could get them onto the paper. Alyse would come over and sit, read what he'd written, listen as he tossed ideas at her, rejecting the bad ones and enthusiastically nodding at the good ones. Sometimes she would look through his books and pick one out to read, curling up on his bed while he wrote. The silence was never uncomfortable, and they both enjoyed having someone around. Each had lived too much of their lives alone--having someone to share a quiet evening with was almost like a blessing.

One night, Alyse crept quietly across the hall. She could hear Christian typing and thought for a moment of turning back and just forgetting her idea. But she mustered up her courage and stepped into his room, walking up to his table and standing by his side until he looked up from his writing.

She looked uneasy, he thought, and she was clutching a small sheaf of papers in her arms. "What's this?" Christian asked, gesturing at the papers.

She stood for another minute, and then thrust the papers at him, turning and fleeing back across the hall as quickly as she'd come. He stared after her for a moment, and then was looking at her closed door as it slammed shut behind her. He glanced down at the papers in his hand, wondering what could have her so worked up, and realized he was holding a stack of paper that bore her handwriting. He began paging through, and then moved over to the bed to read in earnest when he realized that these pages were poetry she had written, and it was very good poetry, at that.

As he read, he realized he had to change his views of her. He knew she was a talented actress, a fabulous singer, and a lovely person--but now he had to add talented writer to the list. One of the poems stuck out especially to him, one titled "Today". He felt as though he could have written it himself at one point in his life, back when the world was new and open to all possibilities.

Today is the greatest
day I've ever known
Can't live for tomorrow,
tomorrow's much too long
I'll burn my eyes out
before I get out

I wanted more
than life could ever grant me
Bored by the chore
of saving face

Today is the greatest
day I've ever known
Can't wait for tomorrow
I might not have that long
I'll tear my heart out
before I get out

Pink ribbon scars
that never forget
I tried so hard
to cleanse these regrets
My angel wings
were bruised and restrained
My belly stings

Today is
Today is
Today is
The greatest day
That I have ever really known

Christian finished reading, but held that one aside. It took him a while to make his way through all of the pages, but finally he finished, and got up to cross the hall.

Alyse had been puttering about her room, trying not to bite her fingernails, wondering what on earth had possessed her to give Christian her poetry, when there was a knock at her door. She answered it quickly and found Christian, holding her papers in her hands, wearing an unreadable expression on his face.

"When did you write this one?" he asked, handing her "Today".

She took the paper with shaking fingers, mentally berating herself for being so jumpy, and managed to say through the knot in her throat, "Umm…the day I left home…"

Christian smiled and nodded knowingly, his eyes lighting up as he said, "It's really, really good."

She stared at him. "You think so?"

"Yes," he replied, and had to laugh at her surprise. "It's excellent. I figured that was when you wrote it, but I wanted to be sure. When I read it, I could just sense how you must have felt that day."

She nodded and smiled back at him. "Yes, oh, I was so happy to finally be leaving! I sat on the train and the words just came to me…" She sat down on one of the two chairs in her room, and he took the other. They spent the rest of the night discussing her poems, and Alyse was glowing with the praise he handed her as he left to go back to his room. She told him as he went that he was the only person who had ever read her poetry, and he looked at her seriously. "Then I'm very honored," he responded, and hesitated a moment before raising a hand to her face and touching her cheek briefly. Then his hand fell away and he smiled softly before turning and crossing the short distance between their rooms.

***

Two days later Alyse was a nervous wreck once again. Harold Zidler had called for a dress rehearsal the next day--"to see how we're coming along, cherubs, we've only got a few weeks left! We need to be sure we all know what we are doing!" Alyse figured she was in better shape than some of the other actors--Jerome certainly didn't know all of his lines and songs, and many of the others were in the same boat--but nonetheless she was still worried.

Zidler had let them out early that afternoon so that, as he put it, they could all go home and get plenty of rest and be back the next morning, ready to get right down the business of being brilliant. Alyse stopped on the way home at a café and had a small meal, then went straight to her room and picked up her script. She was relieved that she'd memorized most of her lines, and the dancing and singing weren't all that difficult for her. She sighed and looked out of her open doorway into Christian's room. She couldn't see or hear him, and decided she'd go over and find out what he was doing. Maybe he had something to say that would help calm her down a bit.

Alyse peered in the doorway and found him sitting in his chair, a glass of wine in one hand, his feet propped up on his table as he read a book. His green eyes were furrowed in deep concentration as he turned the page, and she suddenly thought that maybe he'd like to have an evening alone to himself for once. She turned to leave, and he said, without looking up from the book, "Alyse, don't go."

She turned back to him, and he was marking off the page and closing the book. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" he asked her, setting down his glass. "Big day tomorrow and all."

She sighed. "I don't think I could," she said. "I can't relax. I've never had a dress rehearsal before, nothing like this, anyways…"

Christian looked at her. She was wearing a long, simple dress of pale pink, and her feet were bare. If not for the tense look on her face, he'd have thought she was just popping in to say good night. But he could tell she needed to talk, and dropped his feet down to the floor. "You know your part," he pointed out. "I know you do, I've worked with you."

"Yes," she said. "It's not that, really, I guess. I just…I'm nervous, is all. It's new for me. It's kind of scary."

He nodded. She was twisting her hands the way she did when she had a lot on her mind. "Do you want to talk about anything? Are there any scenes that are giving you trouble?"

She thought for a minute, then admitted, "Well…I guess I have the most trouble with the scene where Julia agrees to marry Henri." She looked at Christian, and he motioned for her to sit down on the bed. She walked over and curled her legs beneath her before she continued. "I just don't understand why, if she loves Pierre so much, she would agree to marry someone else. Even if she's never seen him, don't you think she would wait to be with the man she really loves?"

Christian pulled his chair closer to the bed so he could face her, taking his well worn copy of the script off of the table and thumbing through it as he spoke. "She loves Pierre, but she doesn't want to be alone forever. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to find him, to convince him of her love, and here is Henri, who so clearly loves her. He's willing to give her everything, and love her completely. She enjoys him, thinks of him as a good friend. So that makes it easier for her to say yes to him. At least she won't be marrying someone she hates, and she'll have someone to build a life with, have a family with."

Alyse thought over his words and took the script he handed her. She read through the scene once more, with Christian's words running through her mind. Yes, she thought, she could understand the need for love, the desire to not be alone. If that was how Julia was feeling, that would make it much easier for her to play the part and pull off that scene realistically. She read for a few more minutes, playing out the dialogue in her head.

Christian watched her as she studied the script. He couldn't help thinking how beautiful she was, and for once he didn't feel like telling himself not to think that way. It couldn't hurt to think things like that every now and again, because it was only the truth, and he was growing so tired of not letting himself feel anything. He couldn't stop looking at her hair--it fell over her shoulders as she read, like sunlight spilling down from a cloudless sky, long and wavy. He was telling himself not to touch her even as his fingers reached out and brushed a strand of that hair. Just one touch…it won't hurt anything…

Alyse glanced up, startled, then looked into his eyes and was lost. She suddenly couldn't remember how to think, or what she was doing, or why she was there. All she knew was his face, and that his hand was in her hair, so gentle, like a butterfly resting on a flower. She watched his eyes move over her features as his fingers trailed through her hair. His eyes fell to her lips for a brief moment, and then met hers once again. One thought was instantly clear in her mind. He's going to kiss me.

He was going to kiss her. He couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to, and he didn't want to, not this time. Just one kiss, it won't hurt anything…

Christian didn't take his eyes from hers as he lowered his head. Alyse's eyes fluttered shut right before his lips brushed hers, tender and firm all at once. He tasted like wine, and she didn't think she'd ever be able to drink any again without remembering his kiss. It was like drowning in a sea of emotions and feelings. She'd never known the meaning of the word bliss before, but she was sure that this had to be it, with Christian's hand tangled in her hair and his lips pressed so gently to hers.

By the time he drew away from her, they were both breathless. Christian pressed his forehead to Alyse's. If she'd pushed him away, or told him to let her go, he would have. He'd have apologized profusely and prayed to God that he hadn't ruined his friendship with her. But all she did was raise a small hand and press it to his chest, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt, as if she was trying to pull him closer. He slipped his other hand around to the base of her neck, holding her head in both of his hands as if she was a work of art to be cherished. He looked into her eyes, such a rich blue color, focused so intently on him, and lost the last small shred of self control he'd been hanging onto. Just one more kiss…it won't hurt any more than the first…

There was such little space between their lips, and he touched his to hers once more, eliciting a sigh from her as she tightened her hand in his shirt. He slid to the edge of his chair, his knees brushing hers as she turned her body to his. The kiss deepened by degrees, her other hand coming to rest on his shoulder, his fingers rubbing the soft skin of her neck. He couldn't believe how she made him feel--he'd never felt anything quite like her presence. She was a soft, trembling heat that wound around his senses and muddled his thoughts. He couldn't think, all he could do was feel. I could stay like this forever…

A clattering on the stairs had them breaking apart abruptly.

Footsteps and laughter grew louder and then receded as the people passed the landing and continued down. Christian and Alyse were left staring at each other once it was quiet again, both wide eyed with shock. She could see reality slam into him at the same moment she felt it hit her. His eyes were panicked, and it seemed that neither of them could move. Then they both jumped up at the same moment and began speaking.

"I'd really better be going--" Alyse began.

"We should both get some sleep--" Christian said.

They both stopped and stared at each other again. The silence was deafening, and inside her head words swirled, desperate to come out. I could lose my heart tonight, if you don't turn and walk away…'cause the way I feel I might lose control and let you stay…'cause I could take you in my arms and never let you go…

Christian stepped back. "Right," he said, his voice sounding strained to his own ears. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

Alyse nodded and fought to keep her composure. "Yes," she replied. "I guess I…I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Right," Christian said again, and she somehow managed to make her legs work and move toward the doorway. She paused as she reached the hallway, and turned to find he was right behind her. She met his eyes once more and wished her heart would stop pounding, wished she'd stop hoping he'd kiss her again. "Good night, Christian," she said softly.

"Good night, Alyse," he said, and they stared at each other a moment longer before she finally tore her eyes from his and made it to her room.

Christian shut his door and immediately began pacing the small space. He ran his hands through his hair, holding back the scream that tore at his throat. It won't hurt anything…what rubbish! What in the world had he been thinking? He hadn't been thinking, he knew that, and that was the problem. He'd let his feelings get the best of him…oh, God, he couldn't even take the time to ponder the fact that he actually had feelings for Alyse, that would just be too much for one night. This was why he didn't allow feelings anymore. They could ruin everything. Yet once the thought entered his mind, it wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

"No, no," he said aloud, hoping that he could talk some sense into himself. "I'm not in love, so don't forget it, it's just a silly phase I'm going through. And just because I call you up, don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made. I'm not in love, no, no, it's just because…I like to see you, but then again, that doesn't mean you mean that much to me. So if I call you, don't make a fuss, don't tell your friends about the two of us. I'm not in love, no, no…"

Christian stopped pacing and pounded his fists against his temples. If he just kept repeating that over and over…

Alyse hadn't made it past the door once she'd shut it. She stood against it, her body tired even as her mind was in overdrive, her fingers touching her lips. She could still taste Christian, still feel his mouth against hers. The words kept coming in her head, and fell from her mouth without her even realizing she was singing. "I could fall in love with you, I could fall in love with you…and I know it's not right, and I guess I should try to do what I should do, but I could fall in love, fall in love with you…"

----------------------------

[ songs used:

Today-Smashing Pumpkins

I Could Fall in Love-Selena

I'm Not in Love-10cc ]