Back molded into the old mattress below me, flesh to flesh, Christian used his legs to hold mine together as he cradled the back of my skull looking down upon me. He had looked into my eyes with such an adoring passion it nearly caused me tears, but that faded when he took a large gulp of air, his eyes growing wide. It was such a ridiculous look I couldn't suppress a giggle.

"What?" he asked cocking his head with an adorably innocent look on his face. "Each time we do this, you always look like that!" I teased. "Look like what?" he countered. "Like you're so new to this!" I said playfully smacking his arm, but he goaded me further fishing for compliments.

"New to what?" I rolled my eyes and leaned up to kiss him.

This was distraction enough for him. He was hopelessly lost. Gasping for air he came up with a renewed passion. I expected him to do anything but what he did. "I just want to lie here," he whispered simply looking into my eyes.

I realized then that I could simply lie with him for hours, days, forever, without preference of getting up, eating, nothing but lying in bed in the arms of my lover. "Ok." I felt my eyelashes wet with tears at this thought. But he was up in a flash with a horrified expression on his face.

"Oh, no, Satine, I didn't mean to make you cry! Oh! I'm sorry, that was stupid!" he chided himself kissing a tear on my cheek and swallowing it. "No, Christian, I'm happy. I've realized something." I reassured him. But he continued to hold his breath until I spoke. "I realized that I love you even more." He let out a long overdue breath and rolled on his side so we were looking directly at each other.

We lay contented to just look at each other, amazed at how lucky we were to have found each other. "I love you Christian." I told him once more. "I am finally free of that rule," I let out a light laugh. "We broke the one rule at the Moulin Rouge." I giggled as he looked confused. "Not to fall in love." He laughed and kissed my nose.

"But a life without love, that's terrible!" he said with a cocky grin. Without warning he cast a serious look and turned his attention to the windmill, casting a red glow through the window. "Will you miss it at all?"

"Not in the least." I proclaimed.

"I will miss the lights." he confessed. "I like the lights, and the view, I can see how beautiful the stars are." he said wistfully. "But Christian, you cant see the stars from this window because of the..."

"No, I see them reflect in your eyes. Sometimes, I would write story's, like these, two lovers content to be in each others arms, and my father, he was a very cruel man, found where I had hidden them and told me that I was only going to be a silly child forever living out silly fantasy's. Story's like that can't come true, he told me. So I tried to be stronger, and convince myself it was silly, but I couldn't. And I used to be ashamed of my imagination, and romantic ideas, but now, I know it doesn't matter anymore," he finished kissing my forehead.

It was good for him to let him vent on occasion both of our childhoods were rough. "There is nothing to be ashamed about. Stay romantic." I smiled.

"I will."