| "In Between The Lines" 'The Show Must Go On!' Part 2 Chapter 3 |
| Christian and Satine climbed the stairs to his garret, with full stomachs after buying dinner from a local stallholder on the streets of Montmartre. Satine reached the top and Christian noticed she was having some trouble breathing, but didn�t think much of it. He held the door open to his humble abode and Satine entered. She stood still for a moment and then stumbled. Christian caught Satine, and steadied her, with his hands on her waist. �Satine, are you alright?� He asked, obviously �...Wha...oh, yes it�s just these corsets. They pull me in so tight, I can barely breathe,� she laughed, trying to make light of the situation. �Do you like wearing these things? They can�t be good for you,� Christian stated. �Well, they are good for my posture, and they make me feel beautiful. Besides, I like to look nice...for you,� she replied. �You are beautiful, but I�d rather see you...a little more comfortable,� he said in a soft voice. Christian brought his hands to the bottom of her white jacket, and undid a single button. Satine thought she knew where this was going. He was looking in her eyes for consent; she smiled and gently stroked his cheek in response. Christian paid detailed attention to slowly undoing each white, rounded button. Upon completing his task, he opened her jacket, revealing the corset of their previous discussion and was rewarded with the sight of her pale, soft, white flesh. Christian put his hands beneath her top, resting them on her shoulders and ran his hands down her bare arms, as he slid the jacket off of her body, dropping it to the floor. Satine�s skin tingled at his touch; his hands were so strong, yet so soft and gentle. �Such slow, pleasant torture,� she thought to herself. Christian put his palm flat on her stomach and moved around to her back. He got the laces of her corset and began to gradually loosen the grip it had on her body. He kissed from the nape of her neck to her shoulder blades, leaving a trail of searing hot kisses against her skin. �Mmm, that feels much nicer,� Satine thought, and she was sure he had plans to make her feel a whole lot better in a few moments. However, Christian stopped and turned away from Satine. For a moment, she became confused. He went to his suitcase in the corner of the room, which hadn�t yet been unpacked and returned with a black woollen cardigan. He draped it over her shoulders and delicately put her arms in the sleeves. Then, just as sensuously as he had undressed her, clothed her again. �That should make you feel a bit better,� Christian said, rubbing his hands up and down Satine�s arms to warm her up. Satine looked at him, amazed. She was not used to being treated in such a loving, caring manner. �This boy�s almost too good to be true,� she thought, smiling to herself. Christian moved to the side of the room and began to change out of his starched shirt and into a more comfortable white, cotton one. Satine sat on the edge of his bed and admired her view of Christian in the various stages of undress. Christian took off his shoes and stated, �I hate all that stuffy clothing...makes me think of my father.� Satine sensed some anger in Christian about his father. It was the first time in the short period she had known him that he had acted this way. She reached out for his hand; he took it and sat on the bed next to her. �You don�t get along well with your father?� she asked, stroking his hand. Christian seemed to be lost in thought. �He wanted me to wear one every day for the rest-of-my-life...and...and that�s just not me� he continued. �Is that why you left London?� she questioned. Christian thought back to that painful day. It broke his heart just to think about it. The pain must have shown on his face because Satine drew back and said, �I�m sorry. It�s none of my business...I shouldn�t have�� Christian withdrew from her grip and moved to the head of the bed and sat with his legs outstretched. Satine felt terrible. She must have touched a sore spot. She looked down to her lap, and then to Christian. He was tapping the space on the bed beside him and she smiled. �Well if I�m going to tell you �the story�...or at least some of it, we might as well get comfortable.� Satine stepped out of her heels, took Christian�s hand once more as he helped her settle in, and sat close to him on the bed. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist and Satine snuggled close, resting her hand comfortably in the small of his back. *** Satine lay with her head on Christian�s shoulder, listening to him talk, about life in London and his passions in life. But in essence she realized, he hadn�t really told her a great deal. He seemed to be shielding himself from the past, as if he could escape it by not thinking or talking about it. But she was happy just to be in his company and listen to whatever he wanted to share; every now and then when there was something of particular interest she would ask a question. Christian continued, telling Satine of his desires in life. Inevitably, the conversation turned to his love for writing. �...I don�t know why, I�ve always been an idealist. It just seemed natural for me to write, ever since I was young,� he said. He smiled at a thought he had. �My mother was always the one to encourage that aspect of my personality. When I was young she would spend time reading with me and we�d play this game...� he trailed off. �So tell me some more about you,� Christian said noticeably changing the direction of the conversation. Satine ignored this change and with genuine intrigue asked, �You haven�t spoken of your mother before. What is she like Christian?� Satine was sure she would be a stark contrast to her own mother; she only needed to observe his mother�s efforts evident in the kind man sitting next to her. For a moment, there was an awkward silence in the air and then Christian spoke. �What was she like, was.� he solemnly stated. Realizing the implication of his words Satine felt horrible. She rubbed her hand up and down his back in an attempt to ease his obvious pain with her gentle touch. However, it just seemed to bring it to the surface. Christian�s eyes welled up, but he would not cry. He closed his eyes and told himself that he was a lot stronger than that. He put his head on top of Satine�s and rested there, breathing deeply for a few moments. Satine pulled back and looked into his eyes. �I�m sorry, I should be more careful with what I say. Normally when I�m in the company of men, they never pay attention to what I have to say anyway. ...I was just listening to you, and when you spoke of your mother, there was this, this light in your eyes, and I thought, �Wow, she must be something to have such an influence on him.� I�d love to hear about her...sometime, but if you don�t want to that�s all right,� she explained. Satine wiped a single, stray tear away from Christian�s face with her thumb as she momentarily cupped the side of his face. Christian felt safe with Satine. She knew exactly what to say and do, to make him feel better. He looked to the nearby table. �She gave me that,� Christian said, gesturing to the typewriter. �My father hated me spending my time writing, but not my mother�I remember the day she gave it to me,� he said, with a look of reflection. �She told me that I had a gift, and I should do whatever I could, to share it with the world. It was such an expensive present and I wondered how she managed to get my father to pay for something he detested so much...After she died, our maid told me that mother had been a putting aside a little each week from the money father had given her toward the general running of the house. Her death was the main reason I came here to Montmartre...to write. I had to make something of myself as a writer, to find out if I really did have any talent and prove myself to my father...It�s all silly really� he finished. Satine knew how it was to want the love of one�s parents, she longed for the same thing every day of her life. As Harold became a father figure over the years, she would desperately do whatever he asked, and in return he would lavish attention and sparkling gifts upon her. But it was never enough to fill that aching void within. Satine drew Christian into a hug. �Thank you,� he told her. He exhaled deeply, �I had been trying not to think about her for so long...but talking to you about it, just made me feel so much better. I�m glad you came over tonight.� �Me too,� Satine said as she softly kissed his lips. Her mouth lingered on his and Christian hungrily responded. |