Chapter 2: The Morning
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The little lovebird, Diamant
as Christian aptly named her, continued her morning song in her cage, outside
the garret window. She paused, ruffling her feathers and looking a second at
Christian, but looked out onto the Montemarte streets
again and continued. Christian was still asleep, longer than he usually did,
usually the song would wake him, but having a dreamless sleep tunes you out of
everything and anything, deeper than a dream. A small shisk-ing
sound slid under his door, as another letter, pushed under by someone, resting
silently on the floor. The sound, as light as it seemed, woke Christian up. He
began blinking, to get used to a Saturday sun, and cocked his head to the door,
raising an eyebrow at the letter, It didn't look like
the one he pushed off his night stand, which actually rested closer to the
stand its self. ‘Another one?', he said, confused, to
himself.
He began staring through the wall, hearing
footsteps going down the stairs. He scrambled out of bed, opening the door.
Wandering down the stairs out in the lobby of the Chambres,
he watched the door close after someone. "Wait! Excuse me!" He asked
of the person, but it was too late.
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, and peering over to the landlady, who
was looking back at him, but further down. He looked down himself, noticing he
was still in his dress pants, which were quite loose around his waist, and
nothing else.
"Oh...s-sorry... um..." he laughed a little, "Um did you happen
to get a glance at that person who walked out?"
She shook her head no, "Sorry love."
"Oh, it’s okay. I'll...” he looked down again a little embarrassed,
"I'll be going back up to my room, now...” slinking his way back up the
stairs.
He walked back into his room, snorting to himself.
He was so close to seeing this admirer of his, dammit.
He stepped on the new letter, lifting his foot back and looking down at it. He
picked it up, turning it over a few times, still no signature. He threw on it
his night stand, deciding to read it later, as he looked at it, then the
picture of Satine next to it. When she died he got most of the tidbits she had
in her dressing room. Other small pictures of her scattered the walls,
something to remind him of how beautiful she was, and why their love had to be
doomed like it was.
Christian went over to his lovebird's cage, opening the door and carefully
taking her out, leaning back against the open window outside. She fluttered a
bit, but didn't fly away, as over the past months was used to her new handler.
He held Diamant close to his chest, petting her head
with his thumb gently. Her small, smooth feathers reminded him of Satine's
skin, soft and relaxing to touch. He smiled, propping her on his finger, softly
whistling a little tune and waiting for her to sing it back. He stopped, as
soon after she whistled back, and back and forth they
sang to one another in whistles. It was always a regular routine to them to
sing to each other on any day. It grew friendship, love, trust, and Christian
brushing up on his whistling skills. He brought Diamant
closer to him and kissed her on her head, putting her back in the cage, any
unrest that happened that week locked away as well. He turned around, looking
at the new vanilla-white letter still resting on the night stand. ‘Might as
well', he said, and picked it up, resting on his bed and back against the wall.
He opened the first fold, and then the second,
skimming the bottom, still no signature. He looked at the rest of the letter,
relaxing more and began to read it:
"Christian
I'm surprised you haven't replied! Knowing you, a writer, I'm sure there would
be at least something in return. But, I guess you'll be doing that later.
‘Later?’ he said, thoughtfully...
"I know we've hardly seen each other, but I want to see you tonight, at
Christian laughed, amused, ‘desperate, aye?'. He read on...
"I know you read the other letter, sorry for it being extreme in that
manner. I doubt you're naive little body could take it. But
being so frail on the outside can hide so much on the inside. You're a
very creative person, you could use that creativity for more than just writing,
you know. Hell, you're probably a great lover, Christian.
He blinked back.
"I won't say anything more. I went overboard when I started describing
in the first one, didn't I. I'll wait for tonight. Hope to see you there.
I'll be waiting."
And that was it. Oh wait, a P.S.?
"P.S.
I'm sure our little meet could resolve the conflicts in the past. Adieu until
then."
‘Conflicts?’ he was getting pretty suspicious now. ‘What conflicts? I hardly
know you, but we've met before?'
He looked at his pocket watch resting next to him on the night stand. It was
‘Conflicts...'
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