Soft morning light streamed through the unbarred window, beckoning Nini to awake. It had been a long time since she woke to the sun on her face. In the Moulin Rouge, heavy curtains covered any and all portals to the outside world, completing its surreal illusion. For a moment she was scared, not knowing where she was or what had happened. Her throbbing head was testimony to a night of debauchery more than even she was used to, but that still didn't answer here immediate question. She tried to get up out of the bed, but found something holding her back. Her muddled mind didn't bother to reason this out. Instead, she took stock of all she could see from her vertical position.

Covering her was a rough cotton sheet, cheap but warm. Warmer, at least, than the thin silk covers she was used to. Below her, worn wooden floors ran to meet dirty cream walls. In the corner, paint was chipped away, revealing a red brick foundation. It was disgusting, poor, she told herself, yet a part of her couldn't help but see a rustic, cozy room. The honesty of it was refreshing, no distractions or glitz, just the bare essentials.

Eventually, her gaze fell to the mop of curly brown hair beside her. Still tired, her mind fought to put these facts together and form some reasonable explanation of where she was. Eventually, it all came to her. The roof, the absinth, and the man who swept her off her feet, to here it seemed. The same man who was now pinning her to the bed. After a few minutes of scheming and planning, she came up with a way out of the predicament. Reaching down, she found the expected arm clasped possessively around her waist. She checked to make sure he was still out cold, and then proceeded to pry the hand one finger at a time from her side. Once that was done, some artful maneuvering was all it took to escape.

She hated to stay a moment longer, as any lingering would risk the man catching her in mid-flight, but last night she had been wearing one of her favorite pieces, and couldn't bear to leave it behind. Unfortunately, it seemed that in the heat of the moment it had been tossed God knows where. It was nowhere on the floor, the table was bare, and the lamp above unadorned. A glance at the open window made her flinch, but before she lost all hope, there was one place left to check. The bed.

Of course it wasn't on top; that would be far too easy. Holding her breath, Nini pulled back the sheet and prayed that the sleeping figure didn't awaken. Halfway down the bed, she spotted the telltale sheen of her missing item. Her smile, however, lasted only as long as it took to see where it lay. Calloused hands gripped the sheer fabric tightly, a challenge too anyone considering its removal. With a dejected sight, she turned and walked out, easing the door closed behind her. Without a backwards glance, she headed back to the Moulin Rouge, leaving the precious piece for lost within the mans grasp.