Disclaimer: I don't own Moulin Rouge! I do how ever own Phillipe! Ha!
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Joanna, may the force be with you.
When we left off, Christian and Satine had been in the midst of an argument, Christian had sung 'Janie's got a gun' and Satine had killed her father.
"So now what?"
Christian said...
"We destroy the evidence, it's as simple as
that." Satine said. "Simple? You just killed a man Satine!
Turn him over to the police! Destroying the evidence? You're just
setting yourself up for a murder charge!" Christian said. "Oh,
and what would you know? This is our only option Christian! Give him
up to the police? Yeah right, they'll really believe me,"
Satine said. "What do you mean by that?" Christian said.
"What do you think?" Satine said. Many possibilities swam
around Christian's mind now, scaring him, but at the same time they
intrigued and excited him. There was something about Satine when she
was like this, like a caged animal that turned him on greatly.
"What?" Satine said, she wouldn't admit it, but she felt
the same way. Slowly the distance between them lessened. Metres,
Centimetres, Millimetres, then they closed the distance, a passionate
kiss, full of animalistic hunger. "I want you, now!" Satine
said, and Christian knew she was serious, fire was burning in her
eyes of ocean blue, turning them a Volcanic red. Christian lifted her
legs and placed them to his hips, then he walked over to her dresser
and sat her there. They kissed again; a savage war between their
tongues drew all their breath from their bodies, making their hearts
race an extra hundred miles and hour. As their kiss grew more
intense, so did their need for each other. No words were needed; they
knew what they wanted and how they wanted it done. Christian ripped
off Satine's already torn clothes, Satine torn his shirt out of
frustration, and then they heard it, a haunting sound like no
other...
To be continued...