Thank you for the wonderful reviews, they make me feel so much better. This story is almost over, I think I have just one chapter after this one. Oh yeah, and I apologize in advance for the cheesiness and shortness of this chapter. I promise the next one will be better.
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Chapter 11
"Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and then on one not so very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down, and I wrote our story. A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people. But most of all, a story about love. A love that will live forever. The end."
Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I had been reading Christian's book non-stop the entire night. I couldn't put it down. It was honestly the most wonderful book I had ever read. I felt as if I personally knew all of the characters; Satine, Toulouse Lautrec, Harold Zidler, and I even felt that I understood my brother more than ever. The joy and the pain that he went through were described so vividly that I felt as though I also had gone through the whole experience myself.
As I wiped my face with a handkerchief, I quietly walked out into the hall and checked the clock. 1:30 in the morning! It had all gone by so fast, and I wasn't even a bit exhausted. Without even thinking, I crept down the stairs. Before I knew it, I was out the front door and heading for Christian's hotel. I suppose I was still in shock from the effect of the book, because the walk to the hotel was a complete blur. I didn't even knock on the door; I just burst in to find Christian awake, gazing out his tiny window. He didn't even look my way when I entered. It was as if he was expecting my arrival.
"Christian? W-what are you..."
"I can't sleep," he said before I could finish. "Too much to think about."
I wiped a tear from my cheek. I had to find out the truth. "Was it true?"
He turned his head and looked into my eyes. "Yes. Every word."
"Oh, Christian." I ran over to him and leapt into his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder and sobbed.
"Shh, Becca, it's alright," he attempted to soothe me, but soon he too was crying.
I picked up my head. "It was so beautiful," I said, making more tears fall down his face.
"I-I miss her...so much," he choked, trying desperately to swallow his sobs.
"You should publish the book," I said sincerely.
He shook his head. "No. I was planning to, awhile back, but . . . no. I can't."
"You should share it with others," I continued. "Satine would have wanted you to."
That seemed to make him think about it. "I...don't know," he replied tentatively.
We sat there in silence for a few minutes, reflecting.
"I should go," I said softly after awhile. "I need to get some rest."
Christian nodded. "Yes, of course."
"You should, too. You need sleep." I advised. "Are you going to be alright?"
He nodded. As I opened the door to go out, he spoke up. "Becca."
I turned to find him staring at me with a dead serious expression on his face. "Yes?"
"Thank you," he said, "for coming over. You don't know how much it means to me."
I stared at him, wondering why I was so important to him now. I simply smiled and replied, "You're welcome."
And then I left. The way Christian was feeling and thinking was still a mystery to me. I worried about him. I could only hope that someday he would be the cheerful, spirited brother that I knew so well.
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Please don't desert me! I was in a corny mood, therefore I wrote a corny chapter. I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise!