Chapter 6: The
Assumption
Christian sat nestled in Satine's lap, feeling her
silky white hands brush his face like a spring wind. It was nearly dawn in her
world, the sun rising along the cirrus clouds gave stripes of a red horizon
beyond the hill, as they sat under a cherry tree.
Red in the morning, sailors take warning.
"He... he did it, Satine. You were right. I can't believe it... he does
love me," he said, pensive. "It's just, strange. I... I never thought
love could be like this."
"Love comes in all forms, but something bugs me. Do you really think its
love? she traced her finger down to his chin and raised it slightly.
"What do you mean? What else could it be? he looked up at her face,
concern shining in her blue-sky eyes.
"I'm just thinking, that maybe he's just saying that to pull you in.
Remember when I thought you were him and I told you a loved you? You believed
it, right?"
He chuckled, as her fingers tickled his skin, "Of course I did. he rested
closer to her chest, memories slowly raining like the small cherry blossom
pedals falling around them. He remembered the red room, dancing on the clouds
of
She bleakly smiled, "I think he's doing that to you. I'd be very careful
if I were you, watch him like a cat. Listen to your mind and get out of there
if it tells you."
Christian nodded, "I... I better wake up, then. See you soon." He
reached up and kissed her softly, feeling her fade under his lips.
Then he woke up, just as he promised.
~
Christian opened an eye; the sun was rising in
reality as well. He sat himself up, rubbing his eyes and running his hands
through his hair, noticing his clothes still in a pile, a rather neat one, at
the floor of the bed. He looked over to the other side of the bed, the Duke
wasn't there, he was out of the room completely, in
fact. He slid off the bed, grabbing his trousers, shirt, and everything else
and, swiftly and carefully, put them on. Christian sat back down on the bed and
groaned, rubbing his eyes again, his head aching from last night. Whatever that
bottle contained gave him such a morning headache, he began coughing again. The
coughs became raspy, rubbing his neck trying to soothe his throat, but it
wouldn't help.
"Here.", the bottle was held in front of him, Christian nearly
jumped. The Duke held it out closer, letting Christian take it and breathe in
the vapor, cleaning his lungs and loosening his muscles again, like last night.
"Thanks..." Christian sighed, "I see you're up early.", as
he put the cap of the bottle back on and looked over at his, clothed, lover'.
It's so strange calling him lover... "Why are you up early, anyway?"
The Duke shrugged and turned away, "Just got up before you did, besides, I
got to have time to get ready."
Christian sat up further, "Ready... ready for what?"
"We're going."
His head bounced back, "Going-wait... we'? Y-you and I?"
"Is
there anybody else, boy? Of course you and I! I'm going back to
Christian looked out the window, still surprised, "B-but I don't want to
leave."
The Duke turned around, giving Christian shivers, "You don't? Why wouldn't
you want to go back to the place you were born, your home!"
"Montemartre's my home... the... the Moulin
Rouge is my home. Christian interrupted. I shouldn't have said that, I
shouldn't have stopped him. Oh god.
"Oh really.... is that how you see it, your home? he walked towards the
bed, Christian crawling backwards, "The Moulin Rouge is your home? What
are you now, a little prostitute!"
"What? No! I don't want to leave! I came here for a revolution and, g-god dammit I'm still going to live it! he was surprised, how
he got the nerve to say that even though he was shaking. Get. Out.
"Fine... you'll be my little whore, now won't you?"
Christian got off the bed, watching the Duke coming closer to him as he backed
further, "I-I ne-never said that-"
"Silence!" he yelled, grabbing Christian by his neck and slamming him
up against the wall, hearing his breath exhale sharply from the force.
"Don't you dare talk back to me like that, whore! he let Christian go,
watching him clumsily fall to the ground, looking back up at him.
"I thought you said you... loved me... Christian began to stumble over
his thoughts. Get up, Chris... this doesn't feel right... get. Up. Leave.
Now, Chris. Now now now.
"Aw, but I do." Christian felt his cold fingers run through his hair,
"I love the way you think, the way you move. The way you smile. I love
your eyes. Your hair. I love your body..." he
grabbed a bit of Christian's hair and heard him shriek as he pulled his head
back, "Get up. Now."
Christian got up slowly, the Duke's hand still
gripping his short black hair. When he stood up fully he let go, stroking his
finger over Christian's cheek and down to his neck, which again he gripped,
locking him to the wall. Christian just looked at him, trying not to let tears
fall and the nerve to get out of his grasp. The Duke studied Christian's face,
"You're so submissive," he smirked, "just like a whore."
"I'm not... a whore. Please, stop calling me that. he begged.
"Now, why would I want to do that? he began to unbutton Christian's pants
with his free hand, letting them fall. He looked back up at him,
"Whore."
Christian bit his lip, "Oh please not again... please I'm not a whore!
his mind was going crazy, but he couldn't get free.
"Close your eyes. If you look down when I let go, I'll grab you harder.
Understood, boy?"
Christian nodded, doing what he was told once the Duke let go. He closed his
eyes tightly and titled his head back slightly, trying to blink back the tears.
Oh god...What is he going to do? Don't look down, Christian, try to run...
go now. Please, save yourself, come on go go go...
Christian opened his eye slightly, still looking at the ceiling, noticing
nothing has happened. Don't look down... don't look down... what is he going
to do-
Lick.
OH MY GOD!
The Voice is deceived, falling
for the sadist's trap... how will he escape, or will not escape at all, and
fall deeper?
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