Summary: Two best friends are ripped apart in a whirlwind of confusion and
anger. But when fate brings them together 10 years later in Montmartre,
what happens when they don't know it's each other?
Hey guys, Jessica and Anna here. This is the first story we're writing together, and let me tell you it is HARD WORK!! Okay, so, work with us, and please let us know how we're doing. We're workin our butts off writing this, and all we ask of you are some reviews. Pretty please? That would be totally awesome!!! THANK YOU and we hope you like the story!!! Oh, and we WILL upload MANY MANY more chapters to come . . . If you review. It's up to you guys! ~RougeChic and DiamondDog, Anna and Jessica
PS~ if you're not reviewing this fic, please review Rosy Morning. That's my (Anna's) first posted fic, if you've ever read it. If not, please do! heehee. It's stupid fluff, if you like that stuff. THANK YOU!! But I hope you're reading this one too. Yeeeah . . . anyways . . . you got the point, right? It's PLEASE R&R!!! byebye now =)
London, England 1889
Soft light poured in through the glass window pane, waking 12-year-old Christian up from a deep slumber. He smiled, knowing it was the weekend, and he was free to play with his best friend. Now, normally, a young adolescent's best buddy would be of the same sex. But not for this young man. He was constantly with Satine, a tomboy of a redhead, with spunk and enthusiasm along with even a subtle beauty. The girl was gawky in her slimness; a jumble of long legs and arms. Even so, her vibrant red hair, often brushed by soft hands out of startlingly blue eyes, convinced many a person to believe she would one day be beautiful.
Christian was also slightly gawky, but had the same potential to be quite handsome. His gray eyes were full of curiosity and mirth, while his dark hair flopped hopelessly over them. He was full of warmth, kindness, and spirit. While Satine basked in the limelight, Christian preferred to hang back, often daydreaming and writing. The two of them were opposites: moon and sun, night and day, dark and light.
There was never a more perfect couple.
Now don't get me wrong, because they weren't in love. Oh no, they were much too young to realize how perfect they were for each other, how much they were meant to be together. But they were as close as pals could be, and spent almost every waking moment in the other's presence. Today was no exception.
In another house only a mere few blocks away, young Satine's eyelashes fluttered as she stirred from sleep. Slowly she stretched her hands toward the ceiling, bringing them back down only to rub her tired eyes which quickly flitted open. Christian and Satine both unknowingly sighed simultaneously, happy to be free from school, if only for two days. Not being the type to worry much of her appearance, Satine quickly splashed cool water on her face, and threw on her underclothes and only a few of the petticoats she was usually forced to wear. Because there were no strict, stuffy old ladies around to make her wear her corset, she left the horrid thing lying carelessly on the floor where she had flung it the previous night. The only way she and Christian saw them as were barriers against playing and running around. And Satine did not like to be told what to do. Tying up the last of her mud-stained dress, she swept her hair out of her face with a brush, tossed it onto her bed, and ran down the rickety old steps. There was never a moment to be wasted on Saturdays.
Christian rolled out of his bed onto the floor where he sat and looked around, still wearing off the sleep from his eyes. They quickly fell upon his beloved journal and fountain pen, resting peacefully on the night table. Buttoning up a partially-starched shirt he grabbed from atop his dresser and rolling up the worn sleeves, he made his way to the bathroom where he splashed his face with cool water. He frowned in the mirror at his hair, which was a matted mess of dark strands. He worked at it furiously with his hands, trying desperately to get the unruly mess to stay straight. But it just flopped hopelessly into his eyes and over his forehead like every other morning. He sighed, and sleepily moved to put on his trousers. Lightening up considerably at the sunny day that was beginning to unfold outside his window in London, he grabbed for his journal and pen and bounded down the stairs, clutching his prized possessions lovingly. Today, he decided, would be another day at the creek.
Sure enough, as Satine arrived at the creek, Christian was sitting there, a far-off look on his face as he gazed into the water, pen unmoving. Satine snickered almost lovingly at the dreamy, naïve expression he had. She tiptoed with almost catlike ease over to the unsuspecting boy, suddenly grabbing at his face from behind and covering his eyes. His pen and journal jerked out of his hands, which immediately went up the intruding grasp on his face. After the initial shock, he smiled at the giggles escaping the girl's mouth. He knew all too well who it was.
"Tiiiiine . . ." he whined, trying desperately to pry the hands off of his face. She laughed, and finally gave in.
"Whatsup, Christy?" she said, cheerful as ever. She cart wheeled away and back again to his amusement, smiling the whole time.
"Nothin'," he said, frowning at her girly nickname for him. "You seem happy today."
"What, and you're not?" she said, laughing and wrapping her arms around him in a friendly hug. He hugged her back, laughing into her hair.
"I'm perfectly happy, thank you very much."
"Well don't just stand there! Come on, let's go to the creek!" With that, she bounded off towards the cool rushing water. Christian wasn't so eager.
"Satine, I dunno . . . I'm not that much of a swimmer . . ."
"Oh, you scaredy-cat, it's just wading! What're you, afraid?" she smirked smugly, flipping her hair back and hiking up her skirts. She squealed as the cold water hit her ankles and feet.
"Oooh . . . it feels so niiice . . . Come on, Christy! Christian pleeease?" she wheedled.
"Fine." He retorted, running off after her and leaving his beloved journal and pen on the soft moss. It was getting hot, and he wasn't about to let Satine hog all that nice, cool, refreshing water.
It was yet another Saturday in the life of Christian and Satine. And all was going well. As well as can be expected, of course, with two high- spirited troublemakers working their schemes as best friends. But neither knew of the events in the near future which would change their lives forever.
Hey guys, Jessica and Anna here. This is the first story we're writing together, and let me tell you it is HARD WORK!! Okay, so, work with us, and please let us know how we're doing. We're workin our butts off writing this, and all we ask of you are some reviews. Pretty please? That would be totally awesome!!! THANK YOU and we hope you like the story!!! Oh, and we WILL upload MANY MANY more chapters to come . . . If you review. It's up to you guys! ~RougeChic and DiamondDog, Anna and Jessica
PS~ if you're not reviewing this fic, please review Rosy Morning. That's my (Anna's) first posted fic, if you've ever read it. If not, please do! heehee. It's stupid fluff, if you like that stuff. THANK YOU!! But I hope you're reading this one too. Yeeeah . . . anyways . . . you got the point, right? It's PLEASE R&R!!! byebye now =)
London, England 1889
Soft light poured in through the glass window pane, waking 12-year-old Christian up from a deep slumber. He smiled, knowing it was the weekend, and he was free to play with his best friend. Now, normally, a young adolescent's best buddy would be of the same sex. But not for this young man. He was constantly with Satine, a tomboy of a redhead, with spunk and enthusiasm along with even a subtle beauty. The girl was gawky in her slimness; a jumble of long legs and arms. Even so, her vibrant red hair, often brushed by soft hands out of startlingly blue eyes, convinced many a person to believe she would one day be beautiful.
Christian was also slightly gawky, but had the same potential to be quite handsome. His gray eyes were full of curiosity and mirth, while his dark hair flopped hopelessly over them. He was full of warmth, kindness, and spirit. While Satine basked in the limelight, Christian preferred to hang back, often daydreaming and writing. The two of them were opposites: moon and sun, night and day, dark and light.
There was never a more perfect couple.
Now don't get me wrong, because they weren't in love. Oh no, they were much too young to realize how perfect they were for each other, how much they were meant to be together. But they were as close as pals could be, and spent almost every waking moment in the other's presence. Today was no exception.
In another house only a mere few blocks away, young Satine's eyelashes fluttered as she stirred from sleep. Slowly she stretched her hands toward the ceiling, bringing them back down only to rub her tired eyes which quickly flitted open. Christian and Satine both unknowingly sighed simultaneously, happy to be free from school, if only for two days. Not being the type to worry much of her appearance, Satine quickly splashed cool water on her face, and threw on her underclothes and only a few of the petticoats she was usually forced to wear. Because there were no strict, stuffy old ladies around to make her wear her corset, she left the horrid thing lying carelessly on the floor where she had flung it the previous night. The only way she and Christian saw them as were barriers against playing and running around. And Satine did not like to be told what to do. Tying up the last of her mud-stained dress, she swept her hair out of her face with a brush, tossed it onto her bed, and ran down the rickety old steps. There was never a moment to be wasted on Saturdays.
Christian rolled out of his bed onto the floor where he sat and looked around, still wearing off the sleep from his eyes. They quickly fell upon his beloved journal and fountain pen, resting peacefully on the night table. Buttoning up a partially-starched shirt he grabbed from atop his dresser and rolling up the worn sleeves, he made his way to the bathroom where he splashed his face with cool water. He frowned in the mirror at his hair, which was a matted mess of dark strands. He worked at it furiously with his hands, trying desperately to get the unruly mess to stay straight. But it just flopped hopelessly into his eyes and over his forehead like every other morning. He sighed, and sleepily moved to put on his trousers. Lightening up considerably at the sunny day that was beginning to unfold outside his window in London, he grabbed for his journal and pen and bounded down the stairs, clutching his prized possessions lovingly. Today, he decided, would be another day at the creek.
Sure enough, as Satine arrived at the creek, Christian was sitting there, a far-off look on his face as he gazed into the water, pen unmoving. Satine snickered almost lovingly at the dreamy, naïve expression he had. She tiptoed with almost catlike ease over to the unsuspecting boy, suddenly grabbing at his face from behind and covering his eyes. His pen and journal jerked out of his hands, which immediately went up the intruding grasp on his face. After the initial shock, he smiled at the giggles escaping the girl's mouth. He knew all too well who it was.
"Tiiiiine . . ." he whined, trying desperately to pry the hands off of his face. She laughed, and finally gave in.
"Whatsup, Christy?" she said, cheerful as ever. She cart wheeled away and back again to his amusement, smiling the whole time.
"Nothin'," he said, frowning at her girly nickname for him. "You seem happy today."
"What, and you're not?" she said, laughing and wrapping her arms around him in a friendly hug. He hugged her back, laughing into her hair.
"I'm perfectly happy, thank you very much."
"Well don't just stand there! Come on, let's go to the creek!" With that, she bounded off towards the cool rushing water. Christian wasn't so eager.
"Satine, I dunno . . . I'm not that much of a swimmer . . ."
"Oh, you scaredy-cat, it's just wading! What're you, afraid?" she smirked smugly, flipping her hair back and hiking up her skirts. She squealed as the cold water hit her ankles and feet.
"Oooh . . . it feels so niiice . . . Come on, Christy! Christian pleeease?" she wheedled.
"Fine." He retorted, running off after her and leaving his beloved journal and pen on the soft moss. It was getting hot, and he wasn't about to let Satine hog all that nice, cool, refreshing water.
It was yet another Saturday in the life of Christian and Satine. And all was going well. As well as can be expected, of course, with two high- spirited troublemakers working their schemes as best friends. But neither knew of the events in the near future which would change their lives forever.