Disclaimer: I don't own the Moulin Rouge. Not even the L'amour sign! (Wow,
I have a sad excuse for a life, don't I? Lol!)
A/N: Okay, I'm so so sorry about this chapter. I'm insanely sorry, and you'll see why! It gets a little freakish and odd, but hopefully it'll turn out okay. I have to say that the Duke does not know where Christian lives in Montemartre. All he knows in this story, is that he lives very close to the Moulin Rouge.
Thank you to the great Elizabeth, as always! And of course the lovely reviewers who keep on leaving such nice reviews! I love you guys! Thank you so much!
A Love Suprême Chapter 7 - Wrapped in the Warmth of You
Christian lit a fire in the fireplace as Satine snuggled up in a few blankets closely. "Are you warm enough, Darling?"
"When you crawl into bed alongside me, I will be." She shot a striking smile at Christian.
"Well then, Here I am. And I'm not going anywhere." He gazed straight into her blue eyes after climbing into the covers with her, and kissed her passionately on the lips. He was never going to her go.
It wasn't long before Christian and Satine had fallen asleep at home, huddled together closely. The air was so much colder than it was before now, which was sure to leave a morning frost when the sun would eventually rise. There was no one to say the sun would forever rise every morning, even though it is eternally constant. A sunrise could have been so out of reach, or too far away. There was no promise that there would even be a tomorrow. But they were asleep, so nothing else was ever expected, other than waking up to find that the sun is still there. It was obvious though, that the lovers would not wake up to sun on their faces. They'd have to unlock the sealed windows (There was no telling in what the Duke was capable of when he was angry. Satine had known this best.). Christian made sure no one was getting in by anyone during the night.
The air was too bitter. The sky became simply black. No stars that were seen hours before continued to show. One might think that it was storm clouds passing over head like they always did, but there were no clouds. A carriage arrived before the Moulin Rouge.
The Duke easily had gotten through the gates. He had never given up the key he was issued after investing in the Moulin Rouge. He walked straight in, as if he owned the place. He made his way down the corridor and knocked on the door. It was dark, and it must have been two in the morning. Zidler opened the door quickly, assuming it was Christian or Satine. "What's the ma--. Duke?"
"And who did you suppose it was? I came here for your help, Zidler." The Duke hastily walked past Harold, who was in his nightclothes, to the table, and sat himself down.
"And what would that be, Dear Duke?" His eyes were still adjusting to the unwanted surprise that sat before him.
"I want you to tell me where she is," He smirked and began looking around the room, searching things over, for something maybe, or even nothing.
"Who?"
"Satine! My wife!" 'His wife? Since when? Maybe jealousy has driven him mad.' Harold thought. He had not noticed the note with large print on the table along with herb mixes for tea.
The Duke glanced at the note, nosily. It read 'For Satine'. She was somewhere near. That proved it all the more. He was about to open his mouth, on the fake yet so dumbfounded Harold -- who seemed to forget who his once head Courtesan was, all together --, but he hadn't. The Duke had kept his ratty mouth shut, waiting for the right time to spring it on Harry. But Harold cracked. He wasn't about to lie. He didn't lie anymore. It just wasn't possible for Harold Zidler to tell a fib. He stood up from his chair angrily.
"Get out of here. Stay away. Do not ever return!" He pulled the Duke up to his level by the collar. The Duke hadn't even flinched. He pulled away, straightening himself out. He smiled at Zidler, as he always did, which unknowingly made him look ridiculous as usual.
"Fine." He threw the keys to the Moulin Rouge down to the table, grinned evilly (which was more of a snarl), and left the room, just before exiting the Moulin Rouge altogether. .
'It was that easy? He would just get up and leave? It couldn't be that easy. Nothing was ever *that* easy.' Harold wondered to himself. But what else could he do? He thought about going after him, but then he thought that he should leave it well alone. Unless the Duke came back, then he'd do something about his presence. But for now, it was nearly half past two in the morning, and no threats had been made. Still not noticing the note and tea Marie had set on the table, he went to bed.
-+--~*~--+--~*~--+--~*~--+-
The Duke still had that somewhat snarl glowing on him as he walked out into the street, outside the Moulin Rouge, and below Christian's Garret. 'Satine is here. So is that poet.' He had obsession in his eyes, and revenge in his heart. He also had an idea.
He found abandoned petrol in an alleyway nearby. Matches. He always had matches handy. Everyone did though, they were needed to light the paraffin lamps that almost everyone had at the time. He was keen on what he was about to do. He looked up at a few buildings, standing directly below one that had "L'amour" quite boldly placed, and "Fou" lying almost hidden beside it. Whoever lived there, and next to it, and next to that would have known who Satine was. Everyone in town knew the head Courtesan of a raunchy nightclub right outside their homes. Somewhere near, Satine was with Christian. The Duke could sense it. "If I cannot have 'The Sparking Diamond', then no one will." He poured the Petrol, and lit the match. .
A/N: Cliffhanger. Oops. Sorry! I know that was really super crazy! Well, in some cases it makes you guys actually want to keep reading. But please do excuse this chapter, it's really short, and again really demented. There's a reason for everything though, I assure you!
This chapter, I really had to research on. I had to look at what caused fires in France in 1900, (the reasoning for the petrol.. lol. And yes, they did have matches back then.. I didn't know that.. but then again that's me and I lack common sense. If they didn't they wouldn't have the paraffin lamps either, right?) I really don't want to make big inaccuracies or anything.
Next up, is of course Chapter 8. I'm not sure, but it may be a big one!
A/N: Okay, I'm so so sorry about this chapter. I'm insanely sorry, and you'll see why! It gets a little freakish and odd, but hopefully it'll turn out okay. I have to say that the Duke does not know where Christian lives in Montemartre. All he knows in this story, is that he lives very close to the Moulin Rouge.
Thank you to the great Elizabeth, as always! And of course the lovely reviewers who keep on leaving such nice reviews! I love you guys! Thank you so much!
A Love Suprême Chapter 7 - Wrapped in the Warmth of You
Christian lit a fire in the fireplace as Satine snuggled up in a few blankets closely. "Are you warm enough, Darling?"
"When you crawl into bed alongside me, I will be." She shot a striking smile at Christian.
"Well then, Here I am. And I'm not going anywhere." He gazed straight into her blue eyes after climbing into the covers with her, and kissed her passionately on the lips. He was never going to her go.
It wasn't long before Christian and Satine had fallen asleep at home, huddled together closely. The air was so much colder than it was before now, which was sure to leave a morning frost when the sun would eventually rise. There was no one to say the sun would forever rise every morning, even though it is eternally constant. A sunrise could have been so out of reach, or too far away. There was no promise that there would even be a tomorrow. But they were asleep, so nothing else was ever expected, other than waking up to find that the sun is still there. It was obvious though, that the lovers would not wake up to sun on their faces. They'd have to unlock the sealed windows (There was no telling in what the Duke was capable of when he was angry. Satine had known this best.). Christian made sure no one was getting in by anyone during the night.
The air was too bitter. The sky became simply black. No stars that were seen hours before continued to show. One might think that it was storm clouds passing over head like they always did, but there were no clouds. A carriage arrived before the Moulin Rouge.
The Duke easily had gotten through the gates. He had never given up the key he was issued after investing in the Moulin Rouge. He walked straight in, as if he owned the place. He made his way down the corridor and knocked on the door. It was dark, and it must have been two in the morning. Zidler opened the door quickly, assuming it was Christian or Satine. "What's the ma--. Duke?"
"And who did you suppose it was? I came here for your help, Zidler." The Duke hastily walked past Harold, who was in his nightclothes, to the table, and sat himself down.
"And what would that be, Dear Duke?" His eyes were still adjusting to the unwanted surprise that sat before him.
"I want you to tell me where she is," He smirked and began looking around the room, searching things over, for something maybe, or even nothing.
"Who?"
"Satine! My wife!" 'His wife? Since when? Maybe jealousy has driven him mad.' Harold thought. He had not noticed the note with large print on the table along with herb mixes for tea.
The Duke glanced at the note, nosily. It read 'For Satine'. She was somewhere near. That proved it all the more. He was about to open his mouth, on the fake yet so dumbfounded Harold -- who seemed to forget who his once head Courtesan was, all together --, but he hadn't. The Duke had kept his ratty mouth shut, waiting for the right time to spring it on Harry. But Harold cracked. He wasn't about to lie. He didn't lie anymore. It just wasn't possible for Harold Zidler to tell a fib. He stood up from his chair angrily.
"Get out of here. Stay away. Do not ever return!" He pulled the Duke up to his level by the collar. The Duke hadn't even flinched. He pulled away, straightening himself out. He smiled at Zidler, as he always did, which unknowingly made him look ridiculous as usual.
"Fine." He threw the keys to the Moulin Rouge down to the table, grinned evilly (which was more of a snarl), and left the room, just before exiting the Moulin Rouge altogether. .
'It was that easy? He would just get up and leave? It couldn't be that easy. Nothing was ever *that* easy.' Harold wondered to himself. But what else could he do? He thought about going after him, but then he thought that he should leave it well alone. Unless the Duke came back, then he'd do something about his presence. But for now, it was nearly half past two in the morning, and no threats had been made. Still not noticing the note and tea Marie had set on the table, he went to bed.
-+--~*~--+--~*~--+--~*~--+-
The Duke still had that somewhat snarl glowing on him as he walked out into the street, outside the Moulin Rouge, and below Christian's Garret. 'Satine is here. So is that poet.' He had obsession in his eyes, and revenge in his heart. He also had an idea.
He found abandoned petrol in an alleyway nearby. Matches. He always had matches handy. Everyone did though, they were needed to light the paraffin lamps that almost everyone had at the time. He was keen on what he was about to do. He looked up at a few buildings, standing directly below one that had "L'amour" quite boldly placed, and "Fou" lying almost hidden beside it. Whoever lived there, and next to it, and next to that would have known who Satine was. Everyone in town knew the head Courtesan of a raunchy nightclub right outside their homes. Somewhere near, Satine was with Christian. The Duke could sense it. "If I cannot have 'The Sparking Diamond', then no one will." He poured the Petrol, and lit the match. .
A/N: Cliffhanger. Oops. Sorry! I know that was really super crazy! Well, in some cases it makes you guys actually want to keep reading. But please do excuse this chapter, it's really short, and again really demented. There's a reason for everything though, I assure you!
This chapter, I really had to research on. I had to look at what caused fires in France in 1900, (the reasoning for the petrol.. lol. And yes, they did have matches back then.. I didn't know that.. but then again that's me and I lack common sense. If they didn't they wouldn't have the paraffin lamps either, right?) I really don't want to make big inaccuracies or anything.
Next up, is of course Chapter 8. I'm not sure, but it may be a big one!
