Saturate Me
© Black Tangled Heart
Satine’s couldn’t understand it: she wasn’t happy. She had everything; fine
imported silk, rich, plentiful wine, adoration; she was the wealthiest and most
famous courtesan to ever grace
Her heart was hardened by lack of companionship; her emotions were parched,
thirsty for passion, but why did it matter? She had been taught to never fall
in love, and she was doing her duty well. She found her happiness in her dreams
of flying, but lately it seemed as though her wings had been clipped; she was
chained to the Moulin Rouge. It was her sordid, and
permanent place in the underworld.
Tonight, after performing for a crowd of wild, intoxicated men, she had been
introduced to one of the most truly terrifying and horrible people to ever walk
the Earth: the Duke. His chapped lips against her soft flesh made her whole
body convulse inwardly; his voice was blood curdling and sour, as were the dry
kisses he planted against Satine’s full lips.
Seducing him had been child’s play. She barely had to bat an eye and he was
driven wild with lust. It made Satine wonder what kind of love life the
horrific man had been previously exposed to. Every movement she had made under
his wretched gaze had been completely against her will; whilst dancing and
moaning for love, she had pictured herself being carried away into a beautiful
sunset by her own free will and destiny.
Still, the rose that was once the blossoming symbol of Satine’s emotional
growth was withering from love deprivation. She tried to ignore this fact on
this particular night while she lay in a bathtub filled with warm water and
swirls of fragrant lavender oil.
She unpinned her sweat-laden auburn tresses and let them sink into the
porcelain basin along with her fragile alabaster body. The warm fluid around
her relieved her aching bones and let relief flood into her soul. As she
floated, a goddess with her hair splayed out all around her like liquid fire, she forgot the forbidden nature of wanting to be in
love and lifted her clear, pure soprano to the heavens.
“The desert I wander lacks its mirage,” she sang, letting her fingers dance
languidly along her scalp. She reached for a handful of aqua soap beads and
massaged them through her flaming tresses.
“There's no mistaking in the barrage…of sand and wind that tears my skin…tears
my skin…” She smoothed her palm over a curve of flesh. “Leaving what's without
exposing what's within…”
Her weary body, cradled by the hot water, was beginning to become emotionally
replenished as she cleansed her skin and called out her song.
“Forsaken, left here; in my barren desolate...” she couldn’t put her finger on
a word to describe the thirst her of emotions. “My soul is evaporating; won't
you saturate me, won't you saturate me,” she mused, sliding beneath the caress
of hot water to rinse her body clean. “Rain down on me with life,” she
continued, rising from the swirls and concealing herself in silk before
entering the Red Room.
“My soul is evaporating won't you saturate me, won't you saturate me. Storm
around me; bring the tide.”
~*~
The taste of Christian’s first glass of Absinthe was still on his tongue, and
the Green Fairy continued to dance in a cloud of perfumed sparkles before his
naïve blue eyes.
“Cwistian!” he bellowed, hobbling over to the poet
with excitement smeared across his face. “You are ze
Bohemian revowution come to wife!” He patted
Christian on the shoulder. The young writer gave his new friend a broad smile.
He had left his home to seek the embodiment of beauty, freedom truth and love.
He had found that the Bohemians who surrounded him sought the same, but none of
them had experienced any of it firsthand. Still, there was comfort in their
song, their hopeful expectations, and the sugar they mixed with the green acid
known as Absinthe that sent them flying into indescribable hallucinations.
“My days stretch long into the heat,” Christian began to warble under the
effects of the jade alcohol. He choked back another tantalising
swig. “As the sun brightens my defeat.” The burning
liquid slid down his throat. The Fairy shimmered before him, teasing and
taunting him. “My lips are chapped; they're parched and dry…parched and dry…”
He licked his lips, oblivious to the fact that the fiery liquid dehydrated him.
“My thirst it builds, with every day gone by....” He burped loudly. The Argentinean’s
laughter barely registered in his mind. “Forsaken, left here; in my barren
desolate...”
“
They had visited Zidler’s palace shortly after Satine
had closed the door to the Red Room in order to be alone with the wretched
Duke. Christian was completely unaware that the Moulin Rouge’s true jewel would
meet him later that night, and both of their lives would be forever changed.
Christian shakily climbed to his feet, the garret a blur of light and sound. He
leaned onto the windowsill and marvelled at the
beauty of the night. The inky depths of the sky was
littered with a million tiny silver stars, and a sheer haze of clouds cut the
pale moon in half.
“My soul is evaporating; won't you saturate me, won't you saturate me. Rain
down on me with life.” He warbled dizzily. “My soul is evaporating; won't you
saturate me, won't you saturate me. Storm around me; bring the tide.” Lilac and
azure and rose fireworks erupted, showering the night with brightness and
Christian’s soul with hope.
~*~
Clad in a pale sapphire satin nightdress, Satine
sprawled lazily across her bed, her chin resting on a cerise velvet pillow.
From where she lay, she could see a bright burst of colour
in the sky, and knew that Harold was setting off pink and mauve fireworks in honour of Baby Doll’s birthday. She wound her finger around
a damp tendril of auburn hair and lifted her sated body from the comfort of her
bed; as to more accurately behold the magnificent display.
Instead of seeing the lights, her cerulean gaze fell upon a beautiful face;
shining grey eyes were partially hidden by locks of dark hair. His smile
touched a place deep inside her soul. There was an instant connection as his
gaze met hers and held it. His lips upturned and formed a sweet smile, and she
felt her own mouth mirror his actions. There was just something about the way he
smiled that made her go soft inside.
“The dunes that shift, drift and lift in the wind; cover up my hope, as I start
to give in to the cracks and creases and the dips in my will…as I am pushed
toward the brink, I drink down and swill…” His voice drifted through the night.
Satine could hear the Absinthe in his song, but the melody was so captivating.
His voice drew her into rapture.
The craving for adoration had suddenly hit her, making her arousal and
realization of passion spiral rapidly out of control.
“My soul is evaporating,” she answered his song. “Won't you saturate me, won't
you saturate me…”
“Rain down on me with life,” he responded, the grin on his face becoming wider,
and the confidence of his voice soared, caressing the night and Satine’s emotions
with joy and radiance.
“My soul is evaporating; won't you saturate me, won't you saturate me,” she let
her passion take hold as her emotions took an upswing. Maybe she could fall in
love after all…
“Storm around me; bring the tide…”