OK, this is another one that I'm not so sure about. So if there is something about it that you don't like, please tell me so I can rewrite it.
Ok, just a little question from me. I've read all the reviews (which I thank everyone for!) and it seems that everyone LOVES my story. I was just wondering what makes it so good to you? I'm just wondering so that I may continue to do whatever it is that is making it so good.
And what makes it so different from all the other 'what if Satine didn't die' stories? I'm just wondering. :)
They finally found a spot to sit outside where they wouldn't freeze to death. One of the local restaraunts had chairs and tables outside, so Christian ordered them both a small meal and took a seat outside. Most people had opted to eat indoors, and looked at the two as if they were crazy for braving the cold.
They ate in near silence, and even afterwards the conversation was limited to common things, like the weather. But after a while, they both became increasingly more uncomfortable.
Finally Satine set her napkin down and looked Christian in the eyes. "Why did you go back to London, Christian?"
"I thought you were dead. They was nothing here for me anymore."
"But what about your friends? Toulouse? All of those people you worked with?"
Christian shook his head. "They didn't matter. It hurt to think of you, and that is what being around them made me do." He pushed around a small pile of food with his fork for a moment. "Ryan tells me that he was born in London. When did you go to England?"
Satine looked down at her empty plate. "I didn't go there by choice, Christian." She reached for his hand, but either coincidentally or on purpose, he pulled his hand away and began to fiddle with the fork again. She sighed. "All I know is that one moment I was looking up at you, telling you to write a story, then I woke up in a white room. It was a private hospital in London. I stayed there for about two months, recovering. It was finally said that I was well enough to leave the hospital, and I tried, but someone stopped me." Christian still didn't look up from the table. "It was the Duke."
Christian finally looked up at Satine. "The Duke?" he asked. Satine nodded. "It seems that man is always going to be trying to ruin our lives."
"Or end them." Christian looked up at her when she said this, and for only the second time in nine years, she looked straight into his eyes. She had looked in them when she had brought him to her home, but then they had been filled with hurt, anger, and sadness. Almost gone had been the pure innocence. But now, the anger was gone, and Satine could see that a little of the light had come back as well. "Ryan also tells me that you moved around a lot when he was younger. Why is that?"
"To escape from the Duke. Everytime he tracked us down, we moved again." Satine looked down for a moment. "I hated to do that to poor Ryan."
"I moved around a lot as a child also." Christian said suddenly. "And it wasn't by my own choice either. It was my father. Didn't ever like where we were, so we moved. We finally settled in London when I was thirteen."
"Really?" she asked, even though she already knew this. "I just got tired of running from the Duke, so we came here. I really hope we don't have to leave again."
"I hope you don't."
Satine looked up at Christian in surprise. Only two days ago he had acted so cold towards her. Now he was looking at her with a warmth in his eyes that she so missed, saying he hoped she wouldn't leave.
Christian smiled when he caught her surprised look. He laughed softly to himself and looked down at his lap. "I'm sorry. It's just...being around you again, talking to you..." He looked up at her. "It just feels as if it can't be real. I mean, I've wished for this everyday since I thought you died. And now...you're here. You know? It just feels like you could disappear at any second, or I'll wake up."
Satine put her hand on top of his, and her heart soared when he didn't pull away. Instead he looked down at it, then took it up into both of his own. He stared at it for a moment, just reveling in the touch. Satine smiled and grasped both his hands in her other. "Can it be like before, Christian?"
Christian shook his head, and Satine felt her heart sink. "Not with Ryan. But...I think..." Christian frowned, as if he were at a loss for what to say. "I think a strong love that has been broken can be repaired," he looked up at her," maybe stronger than before."
Satine smiled the widest smile she had in years. She leaned forward and pulled Christian to her in a strong hug. The action took Christian by surprise, but after a moment he hugged her back. Satine pulled away and looked at him with eyes that were rapidly filling with tears. "Is it really that easy? Can you really just fall all over again?"
"I've never stopped loving you, so how can I fall again?"
Ok, just a little question from me. I've read all the reviews (which I thank everyone for!) and it seems that everyone LOVES my story. I was just wondering what makes it so good to you? I'm just wondering so that I may continue to do whatever it is that is making it so good.
And what makes it so different from all the other 'what if Satine didn't die' stories? I'm just wondering. :)
They finally found a spot to sit outside where they wouldn't freeze to death. One of the local restaraunts had chairs and tables outside, so Christian ordered them both a small meal and took a seat outside. Most people had opted to eat indoors, and looked at the two as if they were crazy for braving the cold.
They ate in near silence, and even afterwards the conversation was limited to common things, like the weather. But after a while, they both became increasingly more uncomfortable.
Finally Satine set her napkin down and looked Christian in the eyes. "Why did you go back to London, Christian?"
"I thought you were dead. They was nothing here for me anymore."
"But what about your friends? Toulouse? All of those people you worked with?"
Christian shook his head. "They didn't matter. It hurt to think of you, and that is what being around them made me do." He pushed around a small pile of food with his fork for a moment. "Ryan tells me that he was born in London. When did you go to England?"
Satine looked down at her empty plate. "I didn't go there by choice, Christian." She reached for his hand, but either coincidentally or on purpose, he pulled his hand away and began to fiddle with the fork again. She sighed. "All I know is that one moment I was looking up at you, telling you to write a story, then I woke up in a white room. It was a private hospital in London. I stayed there for about two months, recovering. It was finally said that I was well enough to leave the hospital, and I tried, but someone stopped me." Christian still didn't look up from the table. "It was the Duke."
Christian finally looked up at Satine. "The Duke?" he asked. Satine nodded. "It seems that man is always going to be trying to ruin our lives."
"Or end them." Christian looked up at her when she said this, and for only the second time in nine years, she looked straight into his eyes. She had looked in them when she had brought him to her home, but then they had been filled with hurt, anger, and sadness. Almost gone had been the pure innocence. But now, the anger was gone, and Satine could see that a little of the light had come back as well. "Ryan also tells me that you moved around a lot when he was younger. Why is that?"
"To escape from the Duke. Everytime he tracked us down, we moved again." Satine looked down for a moment. "I hated to do that to poor Ryan."
"I moved around a lot as a child also." Christian said suddenly. "And it wasn't by my own choice either. It was my father. Didn't ever like where we were, so we moved. We finally settled in London when I was thirteen."
"Really?" she asked, even though she already knew this. "I just got tired of running from the Duke, so we came here. I really hope we don't have to leave again."
"I hope you don't."
Satine looked up at Christian in surprise. Only two days ago he had acted so cold towards her. Now he was looking at her with a warmth in his eyes that she so missed, saying he hoped she wouldn't leave.
Christian smiled when he caught her surprised look. He laughed softly to himself and looked down at his lap. "I'm sorry. It's just...being around you again, talking to you..." He looked up at her. "It just feels as if it can't be real. I mean, I've wished for this everyday since I thought you died. And now...you're here. You know? It just feels like you could disappear at any second, or I'll wake up."
Satine put her hand on top of his, and her heart soared when he didn't pull away. Instead he looked down at it, then took it up into both of his own. He stared at it for a moment, just reveling in the touch. Satine smiled and grasped both his hands in her other. "Can it be like before, Christian?"
Christian shook his head, and Satine felt her heart sink. "Not with Ryan. But...I think..." Christian frowned, as if he were at a loss for what to say. "I think a strong love that has been broken can be repaired," he looked up at her," maybe stronger than before."
Satine smiled the widest smile she had in years. She leaned forward and pulled Christian to her in a strong hug. The action took Christian by surprise, but after a moment he hugged her back. Satine pulled away and looked at him with eyes that were rapidly filling with tears. "Is it really that easy? Can you really just fall all over again?"
"I've never stopped loving you, so how can I fall again?"