Part Six: Another view

After working with Christian for months, she finally found out why she was so happy. She was in love with him. She was in love, a feeling she had little experience with. His smile, his positives, his talent, all of it made her happy and deeply, madly in love with him. She was dying to tell him about her feelings, but she had to wait for the right time. Opening night.

She was backstage with him opening night. She had waited and anticipated this all day and now it was time. He looked at her and she felt her insides melt. All of a sudden, he began proclaiming about how he felt like they were more than friends and that he loved her. When he turned his head away, she felt her heart dance. She put a hand to his face and began telling him that she loved him too. She felt like she was dancing when his eyes lit up with joy. Then, he gave her the most searing kiss. It knocked the wind out of her and she held herself up against the wall to keep from falling. They kissed more and more, every time with passion. He asked her the question, the question she wanted to say yes to. But something inside of her was irking her and saying no. He understood though. He still loved her. He showed her his secret spot, on the roof. Again they kissed and kissed, and kissed some more. They sat down and she say in her arms, inhaling the sent of him. He smelled like a combination of cigarettes and washing powder. Without any thought, she began dozing off in his arms.

The last words she heard were, "If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I'd like to do", sung by a rich tenor voice.  She fell asleep, warm and in love.

The next morning, she woke up in a strange apartment. She sat up, feeling her hair. Her wavy honey blonde locks were hanging. Her jade green dress that hung off her shoulders was still on from last night. Her mouth felt dry and thirsty. She looked around at her surroundings. Not too far away from her was a balcony that was overlooking the Moulin Rouge. And not too far away from that was Christian, asleep in an easy chair with a hat over his face. She remembered last night and confessing her unrequited love. She chuckled at the site of him. She pushed aside the blankets and got up. She found what little cooking utensils he had and began making them breakfast. In a few minutes, she had a pot of coffee brewing and some toast heating up. She heard a grunt behind her and turned around. Christian was waking up. He looked up from under his hat and smiled.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully.

"Good morning to you too," he said, while stretching his arms.

"How was it sleeping in that chair?" she asked playfully. He got up and walked to her.

"It was, uh, comfortable." She smiled.

"Thanks for taking me in," she said to him.

"Your welcome. It was a pleasure of mine," he said back. He sniffed the air, then asked, "What are you making?"

"Toast and coffee. I know it's not much, but you obviously don't eat that much and there wasn't many options," she said back. He took her head with his hands and kissed her forehead.

"You didn't have to make breakfast," he said to her. She looked up into his eyes.

"Oh, I had to. It's my way of saying thanks for letting me sleep here," she said back. He smiled and took a piece of toast off the plate that she set it on. She grabbed two mugs and filled them both with coffee. She handed him one and they both walked to the balcony. They stood there, eating toast and coffee, looking out at the Moulin Rouge.

"Christian, what was the Moulin Rouge like at night?" she asked quietly. He felt a sharp pain at his side. Despite the fact that his heart was willing to love again, mentioning the Moulin Rouge plucked his heart strings.

"It was. It was - was magical," he said, searching for the right words. "It was something that I wish could happen again. Even if I didn't go into the Moulin Rouge, the lights and the sound from it were enough to make it seem like a different world." He looked at her. She looked at him with sad green eyes. For the first time, he noticed that her emerald eyes held sadness in them, along with other emotions. It made his heart ache. "Emma, what do you find so sad?" he asked. She turned her head away, so he wouldn't see the tears brimming. Something about the way he said that the Moulin Rouge was special to him made her think about home and how she disrespected her father. He took her chin in his hand and brought it up to meet his eyes. "I hardly said anything and yet, you look like you're about to spring the water works. What makes your eyes tear?" he asked.

"Christian, the way you said how you felt about the Moulin Rouge reminded me of home. Of the place where I grew up. The place where I know I'll always be accepted. Christian, my father forbade me to come to Montmarte. He didn't want me out of the house. I couldn't stay in any longer, so I left. I disobeyed my father and I'm finally feeling the pain of that. It just, I don't know, it hurts. Part of me wants to go back to
London, but the rest of me wants to stay here and get involved in the culture and love you," she explained. He smiled and brought her mouth to his and kissed her gently.

She left his garret a half an hour later. As the days went by, she found herself loving him more and more. Every time they kissed, every time they held hands, every time they laughed, it put more and more emotion into her. She knew that with his tempting kisses, gentle hands, and smooth voice, she could not kid herself any more. He was the one and she couldn't resist him anymore. She knew that she couldn't hold her chastity much longer. And she knew that soon, one day, it would happen.

 

 

 

 

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