Title: Love Me Back To Life
Summary: Will Satine's memory keep Christian from moving on with his life?
Disclaimer: The title is a Bon Jovi song, so I give em' their rights. Christian, Satine, Zidler, and all the Bohos belong to Baz and Craig so here's their recognition. Although, Adrienne is mine. =0)
Feedback: Yes, please! PLEASE! I want to know what you guys think! Everything's accepted.
Chapter One: Memories
Christian's feet ached as he slowly trudged back to his flat, having been out all day, selling their story. He had finally found a good publisher, and was promised positive results, but that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that he'd fulfilled his promise to his deceased lover, Satine.
Even after a year and a half, he still smelled her perfume hanging in the air of his flat. He still saw her iridescent blue eyes when he closed his own. Her thick, soft hair left memories on his hands, and he remembered them embedded in her locks.
It was almost as if...she was still with him. He absentmindedly wiped a tear away, used to the emotions. She has been real; a genuine love. His first everything. He knew he'd been touched by an angel to have her in his life at all, and would probably never feel that way again.
He skipped the alley leading to the stairwell and crossed to the gates of the Moulin. There were a few loose boards here and there, and Christian had found a way to get into her old dressing room. It was his sanctuary. It was the place he went to fall into a dream, and not have to face reality.
He retraced his worn path and collapsed on the moth-eaten lounger. He stared into a portrait everyone had decided to keep where it was. It was Satine, but not like her usual self. She was youthful and vibrant, all her features shining through the photograph. In that portrait, she was a human being, not some beautiful woman men came to in order to feel better about themselves, leaving her with nothing.
Since the first time he saw it, Christian was enthralled. He knew she'd look like that once she was out of this life and with him...but his dreams never had a chance. They had faded with her legacy. In the picture, she was smiling, visibly younger. Her hair was straight and as red as ever, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight all around her. She even seemed to glow. She wore a nice dress that seemed to gently move in a light breeze. He often wondered what she was thinking at that moment.
He then looked around the room, all in shambles. He knew he was the only one that had ever revisited, besides Toulouse who moved shortly after her death. The Duke had closed the club the day after the play, and Christian wasn't certain of he knew Satine was dead.
"Good riddance," he muttered as he remembered many evenings ruined because of him; precious moments he could've been with her, but was busy putting on a show for him. He did feel a twinge of sympathy. Satine leaving his life was unbearable for him, but even though the Duke didn't share his exact feelings...Losing Satine was like loosing your sight. You know everything is there still, but you can't see it. You're oblivious to the world and it is to you. Her memory was blazing, but no one could actually be near her anymore.
He remembered the night she had come to him sobbing, and wished bitterly that he'd just taken her to the station and spent her last few days together. If only he knew what was happening...If only he didn't let her go.
He felt himself crying and allowed himself to fall into his deep depression, looking at the picture once more before falling into a restless sleep.
Summary: Will Satine's memory keep Christian from moving on with his life?
Disclaimer: The title is a Bon Jovi song, so I give em' their rights. Christian, Satine, Zidler, and all the Bohos belong to Baz and Craig so here's their recognition. Although, Adrienne is mine. =0)
Feedback: Yes, please! PLEASE! I want to know what you guys think! Everything's accepted.
Chapter One: Memories
Christian's feet ached as he slowly trudged back to his flat, having been out all day, selling their story. He had finally found a good publisher, and was promised positive results, but that didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that he'd fulfilled his promise to his deceased lover, Satine.
Even after a year and a half, he still smelled her perfume hanging in the air of his flat. He still saw her iridescent blue eyes when he closed his own. Her thick, soft hair left memories on his hands, and he remembered them embedded in her locks.
It was almost as if...she was still with him. He absentmindedly wiped a tear away, used to the emotions. She has been real; a genuine love. His first everything. He knew he'd been touched by an angel to have her in his life at all, and would probably never feel that way again.
He skipped the alley leading to the stairwell and crossed to the gates of the Moulin. There were a few loose boards here and there, and Christian had found a way to get into her old dressing room. It was his sanctuary. It was the place he went to fall into a dream, and not have to face reality.
He retraced his worn path and collapsed on the moth-eaten lounger. He stared into a portrait everyone had decided to keep where it was. It was Satine, but not like her usual self. She was youthful and vibrant, all her features shining through the photograph. In that portrait, she was a human being, not some beautiful woman men came to in order to feel better about themselves, leaving her with nothing.
Since the first time he saw it, Christian was enthralled. He knew she'd look like that once she was out of this life and with him...but his dreams never had a chance. They had faded with her legacy. In the picture, she was smiling, visibly younger. Her hair was straight and as red as ever, her blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight all around her. She even seemed to glow. She wore a nice dress that seemed to gently move in a light breeze. He often wondered what she was thinking at that moment.
He then looked around the room, all in shambles. He knew he was the only one that had ever revisited, besides Toulouse who moved shortly after her death. The Duke had closed the club the day after the play, and Christian wasn't certain of he knew Satine was dead.
"Good riddance," he muttered as he remembered many evenings ruined because of him; precious moments he could've been with her, but was busy putting on a show for him. He did feel a twinge of sympathy. Satine leaving his life was unbearable for him, but even though the Duke didn't share his exact feelings...Losing Satine was like loosing your sight. You know everything is there still, but you can't see it. You're oblivious to the world and it is to you. Her memory was blazing, but no one could actually be near her anymore.
He remembered the night she had come to him sobbing, and wished bitterly that he'd just taken her to the station and spent her last few days together. If only he knew what was happening...If only he didn't let her go.
He felt himself crying and allowed himself to fall into his deep depression, looking at the picture once more before falling into a restless sleep.
