For the short time that Christian was asleep, he had had another dream. Satine was in it once again and she was running. He was behind her within inches of his grasp and she kept looking back, laughing at something only her and the dream version of himself knew about. "Com'on Christian! Hurry up!" she giggled, "We don't have forever!" Her laughter was infectious.
Satine grabbed for his hand and they ran. Through bushes and trees, under a wooden bridge and over a small hill. They came out of the brush, into a vast field of high grass and flowers. "Com'on Christian!" she shouted. She was flying. The wind swirled her hair all around and she was beaming. The sleeves of her dress flowed into the breeze as she extended both arms outwards to him. "Christian come here..." she whispered. He reached for her and she pulled him to the ground. He landed beside her, both of them laughing, and then he leaned over to kiss her. "Oh Christian,...if only." she said afterwards.
His eyes met her gaze and she closed her lids. "Satine." He quietly said. But she didn't answer. "Darling, now's not the time to rest. Wake love." Christian softly stroked her face. The color was fading from her cheeks. "Satine?...Satine?" he waited. There was nothing he could do. "No." he silently protested. "Not again." Her form evaporated before him into the air. "No." was all he could say.
Christian abruptly awoke to the sound of loud chimming. His chest hurt and still very tired, layed back down on the bed to catch his breath.
Whyhad all ofhis dreams felt so real to him? Why was it that in every one, he saw Satine and they were happy, and then like magic, she dissapeared? Even in his own dreams, Satine was never going to be his.
"What time is it?" he wondered. He thought he had heard his clock chime when he awoke, but he couldn't be positive. He walked into the next room to look at the time, and to his horror saw something disheartening. It was 12:23 p.m. He was late. Maybe too late.
"DAMNIT!" he yelled. He had decided shortly before going off to sleep that he wanted to take his chances and see Victoria. "Why me?" he spurted.
Throwing on any clothing he could find, which in this case was a half damp shirt and slacks from the day before, he ran as fast as he could out of his apartment, down stairs, out the building, through the streets, past small stores, past dozens of townspeople, and finally into the park. Searching all around him, he tried to find Victoria. A giant clock that loomed on the south side of the park read 12:35. He was 35 minutes too late. Tucking his shirt in and slicking back his hair, Christian was trying to get himself into a more presentable apperance. He threw a long coat over his clothes to hide the wrinkles that had formed on his shirt overnight.
Seconds ticked and his mind was racing. He scanned the faces of everyone walking by, hoping that just maybe, her face was there. He sat on a nearby bench and started to bite his nails. "Jesus." he said in a disgusted tone. "I missed her." Christian had given up all hope of seeing Victoria when unexpectedly, a soft hand touched his shoulder and a voice said, "Hello." He knew this voice. This was the voice, so full of innocence and purity that he had first heard seven months ago in his apartment. The same voice that he had been so quick to heartlessly dismiss. Did he dare turn around and look at her? Did he dare tell her it was him? Or, did she already know it was him?
"Christian." she spoke. His eyes fluttered. "Be honest." he told himself. "Be honest."
"Christian." the voice repeated. He took a breath. He didn't know what to say.
"I'm sorry." was all he could say. His head bent down with locks of hair covering his face. Victoria walked in front of him and knealed to his level. From between strands of hair, he saw her feet and the bottom of her dress. A black glove reached out to his chin and guided his face back upward. Victoria stood there, a small smile spreading across her mouth.
"I already said I forgive you."