A/N: I changed a few things in the last paragraphs of Chapter 3, to better explain some things. Nothing huge, but read it if you wish.

Now the point of view switches to someone else for a while, only temporarily. It's the "tall, dark figure" described in the previous chapter.

CHAPTER 4

            I was on my way back home from a friend's house one night. I was awfully late coming home – I knew my mother would have fits as it was. "Be careful . . . and come back ON TIME!" she always warned. When I was young, she was always worried that someone would snatch me up. Her strict rule made sense then, but now that I was older, it became somewhat unreasonable. Whenever she told me to be careful, I joked with her that no one would want to kidnap a broke 16-year old boy. She would just ball up her fists and place them seriously on her hips in response, as if to warn me not to say another word. I knew what she was afraid of now – that I would endure the same fate as my father. Eight years ago, my father had been murdered by a man trying to rob him on the street. Ever since then, my mother had become very overprotective of me. Though her controlling attitude was an annoyance and the cause of many quarrels between us, I knew it was only because she cared so much for me. We were all each other had in the world.

I hurried down the familiar streets, trying to get home soon so not to worry my mother, when I heard the faint sound of woman crying. Curious, I slowed down to a fast pace to see if I might discover where the crying was coming from. I squinted down a dark alley and stopped mid step as the shape of a girl huddled against a wall became clear. In spite of the fact I was intrigued why the girl was in such distress, I looked forward, knowing I should be on my way. But, hearing the girl's miserable sobs, I could not help but feel sorry for her. My conscious got the better of me and I decided that if I could help the lady out, it was my duty to offer my assistance.

As I got closer, I noticed her clothes were old and worn. She was probably just like me, poor and stressed out. The worst combination - I knew what that was like: working hard every day knowing that it never really pays off. Thoughts raced through my head as I grew closer. The girl's hair tumbled down over her face as she wept into her arms, oblivious to the fact that I was watching her. I wasn't sure how to approach her – what could I say? "Hello. You don't know me, but I noticed you crying and I wanted to know why. I hope you don't think I'm being nosy . . . " No, that wouldn't work. However, I didn't have any time left to think it over, as I was now right in front of her. I kept a reasonable distance, though – after all, I didn't know her and she didn't know me.

 I cleared my throat and an accidentally too loud and too rough "Mademoiselle?" was what came out of my mouth. I clearly frightened her, as she jerked her head up in alarm. God, you idiot! I thought, you sound like a monster! My attempt to comfort her was failing. "Sorry, " I apologized, lowering my voice. "I didn't mean to scare you . . . " She still said nothing, only stared at me in silence. I felt foolish talking to her from so far away and moved closer, out of the shadows.

My mouth dropped slightly in astonishment. I had never seen her before - she was very beautiful, her face so young and flawless. Her lovely red curls cascaded over her shoulders and back. Her eyes were what captivated me most – a stunning shade of light blue and shaped so perfectly. I had never seen such beauty before in real life.

I suddenly became extremely embarrassed, realizing that I was practically gawking at her. I composed myself and attempted to finish what I was saying. "I just . . . heard you crying and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

The girl sighed heavily, seeming somewhat relieved. She smiled weakly and nodded. "Thank you," she spoke. "I'm fine." Her voice was soft and sweet, but her tone was miserable. I wished I could help the girl in some way, but she didn't seem to want to talk about whatever was bothering her.

"Can I walk you home?" I asked.

"I don't have a home," she confessed, her gaze averting to the ground.

"Don't have a home?" I echoed.

She nodded sorrowfully. "I've just arrived in Montmarte. I don't have an apartment yet."

"Where are you staying for the night?"

She shrugged. "Out here, I suppose."

"Here? Outside?" I asked in effort to confirm that we were both thinking the same thing. Surely she wasn't planning on sleeping outside! The wind was picking up and it would only get colder. The girl nodded, to my surprise, and left me in disbelief.

"That won't do, you can't sleep out here," I insisted. "Why don't you come stay at my house?"

She seemed taken aback by my offer, but resisted. "No, I couldn't . . . "

"Well you certainly can't just sleep out here in the cold."

"Don't worry about me. Besides, I'd feel guilty. I don't have a job and I'd never be able to repay you."

"Just consider yourself a guest, you won't be indebted to me in any way," I assured her. I'd hoped she would accept, but again refused.

"I'm sorry, I can't . . . " her sweet voice trailed off.

"Just for tonight, tomorrow you can look for a job," I promised. She sighed at my persistence and looked up to me.

"Okay," she said, smiling slightly. I hadn't thought it possible, but she was even more beautiful when she smiled. I beamed at her, pleased she would accept the offer. I held out my hand and helped her off the ground. "Thank you so much," she expressed gratefully. "For letting me stay in your home, I mean."

"Think nothing of it," I smiled, putting my hands in my pockets and beginning to walk. "So what's your name?"

"Satine," she responded, catching up with me. "What's yours?"

"William."

FROM BEETLE: More soon. PLEEEEASE review!! Thanks!  :o)

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything from the Moulin Rouge.