WOW! Only a bit over 4 pages . . . our last ones have been what, like, 10
pages?
Jessica: And who's fault is that?
Anna: *looks around innocently* Who, me? Whatever are you talking about, darling?
Jessica: Oh shut up. And don't call me that. That's degrading.
Anna: Sorry darling.
Jessica (whispering): All fluff is NOT on my account! It's all "darling" girl's fault.
Anna: I HEARD that! And I like the word darling. I like it even better when Ewan says it. Dahling, dahling, dahling. . .
Has anyone seen Baz's Romeo + Juliet? Oh my god it's wonderful. Baz has done it again. . . even though he made it before Moulin Rouge. Heh. Strictly Ballroom rocks too. What can I say? He's a genius.
*~*~*~*~*~*
To the average passerby, the morning was calm, clear, and devoid of anything even remotely interesting other than the lark's chirp and the occasional bohemian with a hangover.
To the emotionally in tune, it was anything but.
The air hung thick with the scent of young love; new love; unconditional love; true love. An odd occurrence in the village of sin, making it all the more blatantly and beautifully obvious. Misty light shone in elegantly oblique rays through the syrupy fog, dew-laden grass glistening like thousands of tiny jewels.
Love, dear reader, was in the air.
And asleep in each others' arms was the epitome of it.
Christian and Satine lay sleeping almost soundlessly, their breath in slow, easy, synchronized rhythm with one another. They lay side by side, Christian's arms wrapped tenderly around Satine's slim form. She lay with her head buried against his chest, her hands resting under her chin.
Satine's eyes slowly fluttered open, and adjusting to the daylight she gasped.
How in the world was the most handsome man to grace the earth sleeping next to her?
And handsome he was.
Christian was, indeed, adorable, with a small boyish smile playing on his lips. With each gentle exhale, his raven hair that was flopped innocently over his forehead would rustle. Satine ran her fingers softly through it, giggling quietly when his absent-minded smile spread even more. And his arms were wrapped around HER! It was perfect. . .
Too perfect.
And that was why fate chose that moment to make her remember.
The Duke.
Satine stiffened in Christian's arms, tears stinging her eyes as she realized that this, their love, in all its flawless beauty could never be. A love such as theirs was too beautiful to last, too perfect to remain, too sudden to linger on, too young and too innocent and too naïve. She sighed.
Oh, if the world were a fairy tale. . .
She tried to silently edge away out of his embrace, but with the sudden loss of contact, Christian woke.
He smiled up at her.
"My god, you're beautiful," he whispered.
Satine reached out to cup Christian's cheek in her hand. But as she sighed wistfully, a strangled sob escaped her lips. It was then that Christian noticed the unshed tears shining in her eyes.
"S-Satine?" Christian questioned, his brows furrowed in concern. She let out a shuddery breath, turning away from her so as to hide the tears she could hold back no longer.
"Darling. . ." [A/N: Wheee. . . (see note at top)] Christian moved out of the bed and knelt on the floor facing her as he clasped her hands in his.
"Satine, tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, reaching up to brush away the tears streaming down her face.
"N-nothing. . . I have t-to go, Christian." Satine brushed past him hurriedly to retrieve her clothes from around the room.
And then Satine's head and heart were at it again.
'That's right, Satine, go. . . go and never turn back-'
'No! How can you throw this away, Satine, how-'
'He'll ruin your career, Satine-'
'This is true love-'
'He's worth nothing-'
'He loves you-'
"I SIGNED A CONTRACT!" she suddenly screamed.
"Wha. . . what?"
Satine calmed herself, and swiping harshly at her red-splotched face, she turned around with perfect and practiced poise.
"I signed a contract with the Duke. I am bound to him and only him- that is the only way he will finance us. The Duke is our only chance."
"What are you talking ab-"
"Now that you know, I must go. I can't see you again, Christian. . . I just can't. I am sorry. I don't love you and I can't love you." And she turned around and began to dress, ignoring her heart's desperate wails.
'No! Satine, no, no, no, what are you doing. . .'
'He loves you, Satine, he loves you. . .'
"I told you we should be lovers. I wasn't lying. This is real, Satine, it's real. You can't fight it." Christian suddenly said, passion effusing from his words.
"Christian don't-"
"It was meant to be! We're meant to be, Satine, it's supposed to be like this. It just feels so right. It does, you know it does. I don't care about the Duke, I don't care."
Satine smiled weakly, not facing him. She knew perfectly well what he was talking about- of course it felt right.
Nothing had ever felt so right in her entire life.
"We'll. . . we'll find a way. We'll find a way, Satine, I promise. We can steal time, I'll do anything, we can do this. He can't stop us. P- please, Satine. D-don't leave me." Christian's voice was quivering.
She sank to the floor.
"Oh Christian. . ." she whispered, sobs wracking her body.
"I didn't mean a word of it, I didn't, I didn't, I can't do this, I can't sleep with him, I just can't. . ."
Christian ran to Satine, cradling her shaking body in her arms, holding her, caressing her, loving her.
"Shh. . . shh, it's okay, it's okay. . ."
"No it's not! C-Christian, I l-love you. . ."
Christian's heart soared.
"I love you Satine, and that's why we can do this. We can do this, we can."
"Yes. . . yes we can. . ." she murmured before their lips met.
She pulled away abruptly. "But I have to go now."
"W-why?"
"H-he's expecting me at 8 tonight."
"And now it's 11 in the morning."
"But. . ." she trailed off.
What could she tell him? That if she stayed a moment longer she would never leave? Well, that was true. . .
"Stay with me, Satine. Just stay."
She smiled.
How could she resist?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
10 hours later. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A single man sat livid in his cold, hostile Parisian mansion, languishing as he had been for the past hour in his own jealous fury, glaring at the untouched supper set on his table. She hadn't come.
If looks could kill . . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ah ha! So Christian knows! And the battle has begun. . .
Life is good.
Now all we need are some reviews. And a chocolate chip cookie.
Or two.
Jessica: And who's fault is that?
Anna: *looks around innocently* Who, me? Whatever are you talking about, darling?
Jessica: Oh shut up. And don't call me that. That's degrading.
Anna: Sorry darling.
Jessica (whispering): All fluff is NOT on my account! It's all "darling" girl's fault.
Anna: I HEARD that! And I like the word darling. I like it even better when Ewan says it. Dahling, dahling, dahling. . .
Has anyone seen Baz's Romeo + Juliet? Oh my god it's wonderful. Baz has done it again. . . even though he made it before Moulin Rouge. Heh. Strictly Ballroom rocks too. What can I say? He's a genius.
*~*~*~*~*~*
To the average passerby, the morning was calm, clear, and devoid of anything even remotely interesting other than the lark's chirp and the occasional bohemian with a hangover.
To the emotionally in tune, it was anything but.
The air hung thick with the scent of young love; new love; unconditional love; true love. An odd occurrence in the village of sin, making it all the more blatantly and beautifully obvious. Misty light shone in elegantly oblique rays through the syrupy fog, dew-laden grass glistening like thousands of tiny jewels.
Love, dear reader, was in the air.
And asleep in each others' arms was the epitome of it.
Christian and Satine lay sleeping almost soundlessly, their breath in slow, easy, synchronized rhythm with one another. They lay side by side, Christian's arms wrapped tenderly around Satine's slim form. She lay with her head buried against his chest, her hands resting under her chin.
Satine's eyes slowly fluttered open, and adjusting to the daylight she gasped.
How in the world was the most handsome man to grace the earth sleeping next to her?
And handsome he was.
Christian was, indeed, adorable, with a small boyish smile playing on his lips. With each gentle exhale, his raven hair that was flopped innocently over his forehead would rustle. Satine ran her fingers softly through it, giggling quietly when his absent-minded smile spread even more. And his arms were wrapped around HER! It was perfect. . .
Too perfect.
And that was why fate chose that moment to make her remember.
The Duke.
Satine stiffened in Christian's arms, tears stinging her eyes as she realized that this, their love, in all its flawless beauty could never be. A love such as theirs was too beautiful to last, too perfect to remain, too sudden to linger on, too young and too innocent and too naïve. She sighed.
Oh, if the world were a fairy tale. . .
She tried to silently edge away out of his embrace, but with the sudden loss of contact, Christian woke.
He smiled up at her.
"My god, you're beautiful," he whispered.
Satine reached out to cup Christian's cheek in her hand. But as she sighed wistfully, a strangled sob escaped her lips. It was then that Christian noticed the unshed tears shining in her eyes.
"S-Satine?" Christian questioned, his brows furrowed in concern. She let out a shuddery breath, turning away from her so as to hide the tears she could hold back no longer.
"Darling. . ." [A/N: Wheee. . . (see note at top)] Christian moved out of the bed and knelt on the floor facing her as he clasped her hands in his.
"Satine, tell me what's wrong," he pleaded, reaching up to brush away the tears streaming down her face.
"N-nothing. . . I have t-to go, Christian." Satine brushed past him hurriedly to retrieve her clothes from around the room.
And then Satine's head and heart were at it again.
'That's right, Satine, go. . . go and never turn back-'
'No! How can you throw this away, Satine, how-'
'He'll ruin your career, Satine-'
'This is true love-'
'He's worth nothing-'
'He loves you-'
"I SIGNED A CONTRACT!" she suddenly screamed.
"Wha. . . what?"
Satine calmed herself, and swiping harshly at her red-splotched face, she turned around with perfect and practiced poise.
"I signed a contract with the Duke. I am bound to him and only him- that is the only way he will finance us. The Duke is our only chance."
"What are you talking ab-"
"Now that you know, I must go. I can't see you again, Christian. . . I just can't. I am sorry. I don't love you and I can't love you." And she turned around and began to dress, ignoring her heart's desperate wails.
'No! Satine, no, no, no, what are you doing. . .'
'He loves you, Satine, he loves you. . .'
"I told you we should be lovers. I wasn't lying. This is real, Satine, it's real. You can't fight it." Christian suddenly said, passion effusing from his words.
"Christian don't-"
"It was meant to be! We're meant to be, Satine, it's supposed to be like this. It just feels so right. It does, you know it does. I don't care about the Duke, I don't care."
Satine smiled weakly, not facing him. She knew perfectly well what he was talking about- of course it felt right.
Nothing had ever felt so right in her entire life.
"We'll. . . we'll find a way. We'll find a way, Satine, I promise. We can steal time, I'll do anything, we can do this. He can't stop us. P- please, Satine. D-don't leave me." Christian's voice was quivering.
She sank to the floor.
"Oh Christian. . ." she whispered, sobs wracking her body.
"I didn't mean a word of it, I didn't, I didn't, I can't do this, I can't sleep with him, I just can't. . ."
Christian ran to Satine, cradling her shaking body in her arms, holding her, caressing her, loving her.
"Shh. . . shh, it's okay, it's okay. . ."
"No it's not! C-Christian, I l-love you. . ."
Christian's heart soared.
"I love you Satine, and that's why we can do this. We can do this, we can."
"Yes. . . yes we can. . ." she murmured before their lips met.
She pulled away abruptly. "But I have to go now."
"W-why?"
"H-he's expecting me at 8 tonight."
"And now it's 11 in the morning."
"But. . ." she trailed off.
What could she tell him? That if she stayed a moment longer she would never leave? Well, that was true. . .
"Stay with me, Satine. Just stay."
She smiled.
How could she resist?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
10 hours later. . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A single man sat livid in his cold, hostile Parisian mansion, languishing as he had been for the past hour in his own jealous fury, glaring at the untouched supper set on his table. She hadn't come.
If looks could kill . . .
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ah ha! So Christian knows! And the battle has begun. . .
Life is good.
Now all we need are some reviews. And a chocolate chip cookie.
Or two.