Summary: Christian has a moment of doubt concerning the sincerity of Satine's love. Set after Elephant Love Medley and before the snippets of rehearsal scenes - you know, like Christian nearly falling out of the balcony, Toulouse rehearsing his *line* over and over again, lol.
Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to Baz Luhrmann - All hail his musical genius!
Author's Note: This is not a jealousy piece. I wanted to remain true to the storyline, so Christian is not jealous of the Duke 'cause that doesn't come until later, during the 'Come What May' song. Keep that in mind and tell me later if I did a good job in conveying his insecurity.
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It was going to be a nice, warm sunny day. Christian could feel the heat of the sun's early morning rays on his body as he languorously drifted into awareness. A sleepy smile murmured his contentment as the first stirrings of consciousness began to permeate his brain. Christian stretched, eyes still shut, and rolled over, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him.
It was empty.
His face fell and he opened his eyes, unable to hide his dismay.
He was alone. Satine was gone. Again.
Don't be such a baby, his mind whispered angrily. You knew this had to be done. She told you, remember?
Yes, she did. Satine had cautioned him on the sacrifices they would have to make if they were to be together, told him over and over again in the week they had been a couple. Still, that didn't make the ache any less. Christian sat up and rested his forehead on a bent knee. Was it selfish to want her to be in his arms when he awoke? Was it selfish if he wanted her face to greet him in the morning?
He didn't know. He'd never felt so confused.
A part of him wanted to scream and shout and cry. But he had promised, had told Satine he wouldn't ask for more than she could offer. She loved him and he loved her with every fiber of his being. The Argentinean called it infatuation, but he knew better. He was in love, with the most beautiful woman in the world and she loved him in return, which exceeded his wildest expectations.
So if it meant living without little nuances of affection, then so be it. It was a small price to pay for being able to love Satine. Whispers of 'I love you' would just have to suffice. It was really all that mattered. Christian swallowed the lump of disappointment in his throat and set about getting ready for work.
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The midday break found Christian still diligently tapping away at his beloved typewriter, oblivious to the sounds of relaxation around him. So engrossed was he in his work that thoughts of eating had completely slipped his mind. And because no one was the wiser, nobody cared to tell him otherwise.
Christian paused for a moment, leaning back and cracking his knuckles. He let his gaze and mind wander, unseeing, down idle lanes of thought.
"Awful comfy, aren't they?"
The voice came out of nowhere, causing Christian to jump forward in surprise. The startled motion knocked the brim of his hat over his eyes.
"Hard at work, eh, Shakespeare?"
Christian peered up from under the felt material, only to come face to face with one of the Rouge's leading dancers. Well, more like face to chest. A rather busty chest. He gulped hard, craning his head a little higher. "Oh, hello, Nini." He stammered, disconcerted by her proximity. He shifted back a bit. "You-you were saying?"
The can-can dancer preened, obviously pleased he'd remembered her name. "I said," She leaned closer. "Awful comfy, aren't they?"
Christian blinked. "Who?" He asked blankly.
Nini let out a short, shrill bark of laughter and jerked her head to her left. "Why, our Sparkling Diamond and her precious duke, of course!"
Against his better judgment, Christian cast a surreptitious glance over his shoulder. And what he saw made him turn away.
Satine was seated on the other side of the theater, perfectly at home in her perch on the Duke's lap. They looked so natural, so comfortable, so in love it made him ill. But what made it worse were the adoring gazes they were locked in, like they lost in their own little world. That and the way Satine kept brushing the Duke's floppy hair back, whispering every so often into his ear and giggling when he replied. It was these small gestures that made his throat constrict.
Satine had never acted that way towards him.
Christian stared blindly at his typewriter, trying not to throw up. Blood pounded in his ears and he fought against the bitter bile rising in his throat. He was so busy trying to get himself under control that he was no longer listening to Nini's conversational words. But he heard them anyway.
"What did you say?" He whispered hoarsely, slowly, trying to sound normal despite his heightened breathing.
Nini stared at him for a long moment. If she saw how upset he was, it didn't show. "I said," She pronounced again in her fake Cockney accent. "I'm surprised Satine's going all out for the Duke. She's never done it before." She leaned down, lowering her voice confidentially. If Christian had bothered to look up, he would have seen the malevolent glint in her dark eyes. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she's gone and fallen in love with the man." Christian nearly choked. "But that's impossible," She added dismissively. "Everyone knows we can't fall in love. It's unthinkable."
Oh, God, now he couldn't breathe.
"Hey, Shakespeare, you all right?"
Somehow, Christian managed to nod jerkily while keeping up a semblance of normality. He was only dimly aware of Nini drifting away to rejoin her fellow dancers. Voices echoed in his swirling mind, bringing with them unwanted feelings of doubt and insecurity.
I can't fall in love with anyone...anyone...If I didn't know better, I'd say she's gone and fallen in love with the man...fallen in love with the man...I can't fall in love with anyone...can't fall in love...it's unthinkable...fallen in love with the man...fallen in love...
No! Christian clenched his eyes shut. It wasn't true. Satine could fall in love and she had, with him. She'd said so. The Duke was just an act, a necessary act that she'd warned him about. Nothing more.
Christian clutched that thought like a lifeline, trying not to slip into the abyss so soon. He unconsciously clenched his jaw with the effort. His eyes were open, but unseeing, the blue orbs shifting erratically into a frightening array of blue, gray, and green shades that reflected his inner turmoil.
"Cwistian, are you okay? Are you cold?"
With a start, Christian came back to his senses. He realized he had his arms wrapped tightly around his torso, hugging himself in a vice-like grip that threatened to tear his shirt apart. He lifted his gaze and met Toulouse's concerned brown eyes. "To-Toulouse, um," He slowly disentangled himself, flexing his fingers before placing them on the desk, well out of reach. "I was, err...umm..." Christian thought fast. "Visualizing! That's it. I was visualizing the umm...p-penniless sitar player's conflicting emotions so I could...properly put them on paper." He flashed Toulouse a charming smile.
Toulouse's eyes brightened. "Oh, I get it! In that case, I'll leave you to your 'talent' then, Christian." The little man winked at him, slapped him generously on the back and toddled off.
Christian breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. He opened his eyes and spotted Satine by the stage. She was staring at him, looking obviously concerned. And as he gazed into her worried blue eyes, all his fears and insecurities melted away at the blatant love shining his way.
He was acting like a silly idiot. Satine loved him, she'd said so. And who was he to doubt her word?
Broad grin firmly in place, Christian fairly bounded out of his chair and across the floor to his love's side. Before he spoke, he made careful certain that his features spoke nothing but wary respect for the lead actress. "Mademoiselle Satine," He ventured hesitantly. "I'm having...trouble...writing the second act of the play and I-I was wondering if it could go over it with you tonight."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the Duke popped out of nowhere, fixing him with a deadly glare. "I'm afraid Mademoiselle Satine will not be available tonight." He gave Satine a gaze that could only be described as blind infatuation. "I have a magnificent supper arranged for us tonight at the Gothic Tower and I was hoping you would come."
Satine looked from one man to the other, her features uncertain, but a much deeper battle waged behind her eyes. Christian waited with bated breath. Finally, she turned, decision made.
"My dear sweet Duke," She purred. "I would be honored to join you."
It was all Christian could do not to fall to the ground. "But-but, Mademoiselle Satine-" Satine rounded upon him with a mixture of annoyance and frustration. "Not tonight." She reiterated firmly, much to the Duke's pleasure. "Christian, you are the one being paid to write, not I, and it's time you started acting like it. I can't hold your hand all the time, you know."
Shocked and stunned at her words, Christian could only stare at her in disbelief. He automatically reached out for her, but she had already turned away and taken the Duke's arm. His own fell limply at his side, as useless as he felt. They walked away, unknowingly leaving him standing there with his world crumbling at his feet.
And unbeknownst to them all, a sly figure cackled to herself in self-congratulation.
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end chapter 1
A.N: So? What do you think so far? Love it, hate it? Keep going? *holds up a sign that says 'Will write for reviews'*
