Disclaimer - I, do not own the rights to the "Sparkling Diamond[s]" of a movie, "Moulin Rouge" (If I did I would be a genius going by the name of Baz Luhrmann). I am simply one of the "Children of the Revolution" (Although one of "Elephant [Melody]" proportions) that writes fanfiction "Because We Can". "Come What May", but please do not sue me or I will be a "Sad Hindi Diamond". May this be "Your Song" and may you say "Some Day I'll Fly Away"! (I do not own the songs used in this story or in the titles of the chapters either.)
*A Bohemian Storm Is Brewing*
Truth * Beauty * Freedom * Love
~Casidy
§=Þ
~*~
"Quoi Qu'il Arrive"
~ Part XXXIV: Is There Life After Love ~
By Casidy
~*~
Christian sat in a chair near the bed watching Satine as she slept. He had no idea what time it was, nor did he care. He had been unable to sleep all night despite the soft, feather bed. Hours after Satine had drifted off to sleep he had moved into the chair, unable to lay still one more instant. He had been sitting there all night, watching over her but did not realize how much time had passed until the room began to light up as the morning sun rose over the green hills of Italy.
Feeling that the spell had somehow been broken with the intrusion of the bright sun, Christian stood up, noticing for the first time how stiff he was. Walking over to the window, he pushed the drapes out of the way and opened the double glass doors, letting a sudden gust of fresh air into the room. Standing in the doorway and leaning casually against the doorframe, Christian looked out over the scene in front of him.
Even Toulouse, drowning in Absinthe, could guess where the villa's name originated. The smooth hills scattered throughout the valley were covered in smooth, bright grass that was so unaffected by everything around it that the sun seemed to light up the ground as keenly as it brightened the early morning sky. Hence the name Green Sky.
Turning from the peaceful scene in front of him, Christian turned back to Satine. Gently, as not to disturb his angel, Christian sang,
How do I live without you?
I want to know,
How do I breathe without you?
They had not even known each other for a year, and yet when- if, if he lost her, he knew he could not want to go on living.
There'd be no sun in my sky,
There would be no love in my life,
A life without love? That's-that's terrible!
There'd be no world left for me.
Baby I don't know what I would do,
I'd be lost if I lost you.
Christian's eyes traveled to where they always did. In his joy or sorrow it was always there, the only thing that could give him comfort, other than Satine herself: his typewriter.
Sitting down at the desk where it sat waiting, Christian set his wrists on the edge of the desk and poised his fingers over the keys, in anticipation of his inspiration. He could physically feel the ideas looming in his head like smoke looking for an escape. He licked his lips and flexed his fingers.
Nothing happened.
For the first time that he could remember, he had writer's block. He sat motionless for several minuets then turned completely around toward the bed. His eyes scanned Satine as if the words he sought were written there.
He turned back to the typewriter but did not even attempt to write. This was not good.
~*~
Satine's bare feet made a soft noise as she padded across the cold tile floor and into the kitchen. When she reached her destination she was delighted to find Christian making breakfast, and in seemingly high spirits.
He stood with his back to her, clad in only his trousers, the suspenders hanging down behind him. Swaying slightly as he mixed his concoction with a wooden spoon he sang to himself,
I've got sunshine,
On a cloudy day.
When it's cold outside,
I've got the month of May.
I guess you'll say,
What can make me feel this way.
My girl,
Talkin' 'bout my girl.
I've got so much honey,
The bees envy me.
I've got a sweeter song,
Than the birds in the tree.
Well I guess you'll-
Christian jumped suddenly when Satine brushed her hands up his naked back and down his arms as she pressed kisses onto his strong shoulders that carried so much weight for the both of them.
"Good morning." She said, in between her rain of kisses across his warm skin.
"Good morning." He repeated softly, relishing every one of her delicate kisses.
"Did you sleep well?" he felt, rather than saw, her nod.
"That was the most comfortable bed I've ever been in. Although it wasn't as pleasant without you to wake up beside. Why are you up so early?" Satine asked, resting her chin on Christian's shoulder.
"I was writing this morning." He replied quickly.
"Did you get anything done?"
"No…no I couldn't think of anything to write."
Satine became very still, "What do you mean?"
Resuming the stirring in the bowl, Christian answered, "I mean, darling, that I have writer's block."
"Writer's-" Sating stopped without warning and sucked in a deep breath.
Christian, recognizing the signs, turned around immediately and steadied her as she gasped for breath.
She tried to breathe but was only compensated with a tiresome wheezing noise. If she could only catch her breath she could cough and then maybe her lungs would stop the unbearable burning. She did not have to worry about the excruciating pain for long, before she realized what was happening she was surrounded in a black nothingness.
~*~
* "How Do I Live" is performed by LeAnn Rimes/Trisha Yearwood.
* "My Girl" is performed by The Temptations.