Requested on tumblr: "Megstine"
Since I knew who made the request, I also made them pick a number to select a prompt, which was: One of our muses seeks romantic advice from the other
Meg found Christine in the usual spot; kneeling in the chapel. She was wearing her day dress while Meg was still in her practice tutu with her hair pulled back away from her face. Lucky, she thought, looking at her friend. She doesn't have to deal with sweaty tutus or pointe shoes anymore.
Christine turned her head, smiling at Meg. "I didn't hear you come in."
"Sorry." Meg grinned. "I didn't want to disturb you."
Christine rose from the floor, moving to the stone bench below the stained glass window. "How was the rehearsal?"
Meg wrinkled her nose. "Long. You know Maman, she doesn't stop until it's perfect." She sat beside Christine, who only gave a soft laugh in response.
"Christine, what's wrong?"
"Just… boy trouble."
"Oh." Meg chewed her lip. "Speaking of boys…"
Christine glanced at her. "Has someone finally caught your eye, Meg?"
Most of the ballet girls were more than happy to pair off with the men who worked at the opera, but Madame Giry had always kept Meg and Christine on the straight and narrow. But even without their guardians interference, neither of them really desired the emotionless, animalistic nature of most of the opera house couplings. Perhaps it was the "whimsy" Madame claimed both girls possessed but they wanted something meaningful.
Meg's cheeks flushed. "Maybe." She looked down. "Don't tell Maman but… we're going out to dinner tonight."
"Meg, that's wonderful!" Christine took her hands and squeezed. "I'm so happy for you!"
"I'm happy too."
This was the first time Meg had ever shown an interest in someone and she was entirely unwilling to talk about her new mystery beau. Her friend was far from satisfied with what few details she was given. Christine plied her with begging tender words of affection and desperate pleas for information but Meg was not swayed and adamantly refused to give away his identity. Finally, Christine relented.
"It's just… I'm so nervous." Meg stared at the ground.
Christine reached up to untie Meg's hair. "Why's that? Whoever he is, he'll adore you."
"Well I've never… you know… gone out with a boy before." Her cheeks were burning and she lifted her head but found she could not meet Christine's eyes. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."
"Just be your sweet, charming self. You have nothing to worry about." Christine stroked her friend's hair soothingly.
"But… there's rules, isn't there?"
"He'll take the lead, I'm sure. He'll open doors for you or pull out your chair. You just smile and thank him."
Meg nodded. "What if… what if he wants to kiss? Do you think he'll want to?" She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
"You don't have to kiss him if you don't want to." Christine laughed. "If he starts to lean in, just gently push him back and tell him you aren't ready. If he's a good man, he'll respect that."
"It's not that I'm not ready…" Meg's cheeks turned bright red. "I just… I've never kissed anyone before."
"Oh…" Christine looked away. "Well… we could… practice."
"Practice?" Meg looked at her.
"Yeah… Practice."
Meg nodded slowly. "How do we go about… practicing?"
Christine stood up and tugged Meg to her feet. "You be you and I'll be your beau."
Meg nodded, simply waiting for instruction.
Christine took Meg's face in her hands. "He'll probably lean in and if you want him to kiss you, tilt your head like so." Her fingers gently angled Meg's head as her own drew closer to her friend's.
"Then you close your eyes…" Christine's voice was much softer now and Meg could feel her breath on her lips. Her heart thudded in her chest.
"And then…" Christine breathed. Their lips met.
It was so much better than Meg was expecting. Christine was warm and tasted of vanilla and honey and it made Meg's knees weak. They both clung to the other and what began as a sweet kiss crescendoed into a passionate storm of tasting and feeling and needing.
Christine had kissed Raoul on several occasions but it was never like this. His kisses were sweet, gentle. They were what she thought kisses were supposed to be; lips touching and parting. But this…
This was hot, hungry fire that raced through her veins and threatened to burn her alive. It consumed her, drove her to a point from which there was no returning. This was the kiss all others would be measured against and none could hope to hold a candle to, a flickering flame next to a roaring fire.
Slowly, they moved apart, breaths coming heavy and eyes wide in wonder at the new feelings and sensations that had just been discovered. For a moment, neither of them knew what to say.
Meg cleared her throat. "So that's… that's how you kiss someone."
Christine nodded. "Mhm."
"Is it always like that? So… intense?"
Christine chewed her lip thoughtfully. "With the right person, I think. There's really only one way to find out."
Meg's brow furrowed. "What's that?"
"I'll just have to kiss you again."
