Christian sat on the window ledge, typewriter in hand and staring
dreamily at Satine's elephant. He was unknowingly clad in just a white pair
of briefs. A hangover from the previous night's drinking escapade had made
him completely oblivious to the world, including his self-image. Footsteps
echoed behind him as Satine, clad in a deep red chemise, came up and
slipped her arms around him.
"The Bohemian Revolution seems to have taken over my life, and a beautiful bohemian writer has stolen my heart," she said, putting her head on his shoulder. Christian took her hand and squeezed it tightly and sighed.
"I seemed to have lost the writing part of my bohemian self. 'Spectacular Spectacular' seems to be going completely down the drain. What can I do? I give up," he said, tossing his typewriter on the floor with a loud "ching!" Satine rubbed her hands on his shoulders as he leaned his head on his hand.
"Oh Christian. you just need time for inspiration. It'll come! Harry says that you have until the end of the week to perfect it-"
"Which is only 2 days! What am I going to do? What am I gonna do." his voice trailed off as Satine pulled his face into her shoulder. She ran her hands through Christian's hair as he muttered to himself. The inaudible words were stabbing Satine's heart; she knew how depressed he was.
"You are a true Bohemian Revolutionary, remember? Do you believe in truth?" Satine said looking into his eyes, which were reflecting red from her chemise"
"Yes," he muttered.
"Beauty?"
"Uh-huh,"
"Freedom?"
"Yup,"
"Love? Tell me you believe in love."she said stroking his head again. He sat up and looked into Satine's deep, blue eyes.
"Love? Love. Above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many-splendoured thing, love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love. and I feel as if I am losing it." he collapsed into Satine's arms; he had fainted.
"I told you not to have so much to drink last night," she carried Christian over to his bed and spread him over it. She looked at him and sighed.
"If only you knew Christian. You wouldn't give up on me." and she quietly slid out of the room, closing the door behind her.
------
Christian awoke to the sound of Satine coughing violently beside him. He slowly opened one eye and glanced over at the source of his awakening. She was leaned over in her chair hacking into a kerchief; sputters of blood visible through the snow colored cloth. His eyes widened as he hoisted himself upon his hands, one of which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. It stung as if white hot wires had been placed on his skin. Christian gave a yell in pain.
"God! What is all this?" he said, examining the blood-stained cloth. Satine took a sip from a small flask of copper colored liquid and breathed deeply. She slowly looked into Christian's eyes and became fearful of her lover.
"Christian. you. I couldn't. it happened so quickly. so strange," she stuttered under her breath. He strained his ears to hear what she had said, for he longed to know. Satine coughed a bit and looked at him again. She sighed.
" It was. so strange, Christian. I was out of the room getting my flask and I heard a shatter of glass. I-I-I ran in to see what had happened and you. you had slammed your hand on the bottle and you were unconscious the entire time. You bled and I treated it. you never woke up. It was so strange." Christian thought for a moment. He looked at his bedside table; the shattered pieces of glass. His green drink was dripping slowly down the side of the wooden cabinet, making a small spot on the floor.
"You're not being honest with me Satine," he said, breathing deeply. "What really happened? You saw, I know you did,"
"I. am."
"Satine! Don't play with my emotions, please! Tell me what happened!"
"Christian! Don't!" Christian had grabbed a hold of Satine's arms, pulling her down so she was so near to his face, she could see his eyes dilating. She squealed in fear as he threw her aside and rose from the bed. She curled into a corner and watched as Christian went into a tantrum, throwing a chair across the room.
"What happened?!?! TELL ME!" he suddenly picked up his typewriter and threw it with all of his might down.
"Christian, stop!" she said, trying her hardest to get up from her corner, but failed. The typewriter went through the floor and crashed into the kitchen below. Christian suddenly stood completely still, breathing deeply.
"The Bohemian Revolution seems to have taken over my life, and a beautiful bohemian writer has stolen my heart," she said, putting her head on his shoulder. Christian took her hand and squeezed it tightly and sighed.
"I seemed to have lost the writing part of my bohemian self. 'Spectacular Spectacular' seems to be going completely down the drain. What can I do? I give up," he said, tossing his typewriter on the floor with a loud "ching!" Satine rubbed her hands on his shoulders as he leaned his head on his hand.
"Oh Christian. you just need time for inspiration. It'll come! Harry says that you have until the end of the week to perfect it-"
"Which is only 2 days! What am I going to do? What am I gonna do." his voice trailed off as Satine pulled his face into her shoulder. She ran her hands through Christian's hair as he muttered to himself. The inaudible words were stabbing Satine's heart; she knew how depressed he was.
"You are a true Bohemian Revolutionary, remember? Do you believe in truth?" Satine said looking into his eyes, which were reflecting red from her chemise"
"Yes," he muttered.
"Beauty?"
"Uh-huh,"
"Freedom?"
"Yup,"
"Love? Tell me you believe in love."she said stroking his head again. He sat up and looked into Satine's deep, blue eyes.
"Love? Love. Above all things I believe in love. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many-splendoured thing, love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love. and I feel as if I am losing it." he collapsed into Satine's arms; he had fainted.
"I told you not to have so much to drink last night," she carried Christian over to his bed and spread him over it. She looked at him and sighed.
"If only you knew Christian. You wouldn't give up on me." and she quietly slid out of the room, closing the door behind her.
------
Christian awoke to the sound of Satine coughing violently beside him. He slowly opened one eye and glanced over at the source of his awakening. She was leaned over in her chair hacking into a kerchief; sputters of blood visible through the snow colored cloth. His eyes widened as he hoisted himself upon his hands, one of which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. It stung as if white hot wires had been placed on his skin. Christian gave a yell in pain.
"God! What is all this?" he said, examining the blood-stained cloth. Satine took a sip from a small flask of copper colored liquid and breathed deeply. She slowly looked into Christian's eyes and became fearful of her lover.
"Christian. you. I couldn't. it happened so quickly. so strange," she stuttered under her breath. He strained his ears to hear what she had said, for he longed to know. Satine coughed a bit and looked at him again. She sighed.
" It was. so strange, Christian. I was out of the room getting my flask and I heard a shatter of glass. I-I-I ran in to see what had happened and you. you had slammed your hand on the bottle and you were unconscious the entire time. You bled and I treated it. you never woke up. It was so strange." Christian thought for a moment. He looked at his bedside table; the shattered pieces of glass. His green drink was dripping slowly down the side of the wooden cabinet, making a small spot on the floor.
"You're not being honest with me Satine," he said, breathing deeply. "What really happened? You saw, I know you did,"
"I. am."
"Satine! Don't play with my emotions, please! Tell me what happened!"
"Christian! Don't!" Christian had grabbed a hold of Satine's arms, pulling her down so she was so near to his face, she could see his eyes dilating. She squealed in fear as he threw her aside and rose from the bed. She curled into a corner and watched as Christian went into a tantrum, throwing a chair across the room.
"What happened?!?! TELL ME!" he suddenly picked up his typewriter and threw it with all of his might down.
"Christian, stop!" she said, trying her hardest to get up from her corner, but failed. The typewriter went through the floor and crashed into the kitchen below. Christian suddenly stood completely still, breathing deeply.