please don't let me be misunderstood

sterling moran. 28. he/him and they/them. dancer&coutesan. i think i should know how to make love to something innocent without leaving my fingerprints out

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

Delilah had always been a practical woman. She had been raised to be. Everything she did, she analysed. Pros and cons, opportunities and threats. That was just how she lived her life; the safest way she could think of. Safety was something she needed as a business woman, especially when all her competitors were men. She couldn’t take too many risks. It was that kind of mentality what had led her to create Esmeralda - and perhaps it was partly thanks to Esmeralda that she had met Sterling. It was impossible for her to deny her rational half, because it was because of that she was there, standing in front of them, ironically ready to take the biggest risk of her life. They were going to be consequences, obviously. As much power her family had, she couldn’t just waltz into the next fundraiser gala with someone like Sterling besides her. It wouldn’t be long before someone found out about them, and even if they somehow managed to keep the circumstances of their meeting a secret, the fact that they were an american with a last name of no real consequence was enough to cause her reputation to fall. 

She couldn’t care less. 

That was definitely a thought she wasn’t used to having. She had everything to lose, and she was willing. “You must know one thing. If we do this, if we even manage to pull this off, there’s a solid chance I will lose everything I own. This home, my fortune, my job - everything. I know I sound like a safe bet right now, but you need to realise it’s very likely that by the end of this, I will be the one with nothing to offer you.” How frustrating it was that she had to warn them about this. If she had been a man, it wouldn’t have been a problem. However, Delilah had gotten too used to the unfairness of the world. “But you should also know that I’m very skilled. I have my own money. It’s not a lot, at least not like this, but I can make do. So even if we end up penniless, I will always have your back.” 

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic thing she could have said, but romance had never fed anyone. There was going to be time for grand gestures and poems. This was about knowing each other, every single bit that they had been hiding before - and this was who she was, practical, and willing to risk everything for love. 

“Delilah and Stephen.”, she repeated, fondness clear in her smile. One of her hands moved to her hair, and she undid her hairdo, letting the dark waves fall down her back. Slowly, she stood on her toes and kissed their lips softly; as if this was her first time doing it. In a way it was, she supposed. The kiss was brief, but confident, full of promise. “I love you, Stephen.”

Sterling listened to her with a slight frown on their face, taking in her words with gravity. Their situation was serious, and now knowing more about her actual life made it all seem that much graver to them. But they were both determined, and the truth that they shared was too intense to pass by because of fear of losing something. They didn’t have nearly as much to lose as she did, though. They had lost their chance at an average life long ago, but she had so much to lose, and because of them. She had a fortune, and a business, and a whole life planned out that she would lose all for them. But was a life without the love you knew you could have one day worth it just for success? Wasn’t the risk of losing it all worth the potential for having something that was only talked about in fiction?

It seemed that they both agreed on the answers to those questions.

Their hand moved to her cheek, thumb worrying over her skin seriously. “If you’re willing to take that risk, then I am as well. I don’t want you for your money, or the life you have, the job or home, I want you because of you. I want to build a life with you, build a family with you. And if we have to do that ourselves, from scratch, without any outside support or fortune, just our skills, our own determination, then I will gladly do so,” Sterling said seriously, hoping she knew that they meant every word they said. “You’re not the only one who has their own money, after all. We will not end up penniless because of our love for each other. No matter what happens, we will find a way. Together.”

She was standing there, telling them that she was willing to risk her whole life for them, for the love that they had found together, the truth they had built in each other’s arms. They had never expected such an outcome, although they had dreamt of it time and time again despite themself. And this was it, the promise of a beginning. They were going to try, despite the risk, because it was worth it to have a chance at a love so great.

Hearing her say their names together sent a pleasant chill through their body, and their hand immediately went to her hair as she loosened it. As she pressed a kiss to their lips, soft and gentle, it felt as if the world stood still, and nothing mattered but her. It was like being kissed for the first time, and in a way it was. This was new, this was them both being completely open and honest, no secrets left between them.

“I love you, too, Delilah. More than I ever thought was possible,” they said softly, the grin wide. They were silent for a moment, just looking at her, eyes full of love, of hope, before finally going on. “You should show me around. I want to know every little detail of your life.”

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

Delilah couldn’t have imagined how comforting it was going to be to hear them say her name, her real name. She had never even thought of a future where she was going to be able to tell them the truth, but here they were, exchanging introductions as if they didn’t know each other; as if they hadn’t explored ever inch of the other’s body and soul already. This was the beginning of something new, of a more hopeful prospect for them. If they could start fresh right now, maybe they did have a chance; perhaps the days to come didn’t have to be so miserable. It was possible that there was some truth in the words they had said before. She didn’t have to be lonely any longer.  

Their lips on her hand, and then their own hand taking it gently felt like an invitation. They were as willing as she was to see where this was going. It was going to be complicated, she was aware of that. The feelings now full blooming inside her chest didn’t overshadow her practical nature. She hadn’t forgotten that every single story between a patron and a courtesan had ended in disaster, she knew very well that in order for this to work, they were going to have to find a way to be the exception. But wasn’t she just that, already? Wasn’t she a woman doing business in a world ruled by men? Wasn’t she an English Rose turned rebel, choosing her path like no other could? There was no reason why this story had to be different. She had made impossible things work before, and she was going to do it again now. 

Hope could made a fool out of anyone, but it was also making her bolder. She offered them a wider smile, full of determination. Her free hand brushed away the rest of the tears she had spilled moments before. She had had her breakdown, now it was time to do what she always did - to pick up the pieces and move on. Only this time there was no need to do it alone, this time Sterling was there to help; and what was more important, she wanted them to do it. She wanted them by her side, whatever God had planned for the both of them. 

Their next words provoked a breathless laugh out of her. “The patron and the courtesan have this in common, the Lord is the maker of them all.” Smiling still, Delilah wrapped her arms around their neck, looking up at them. “Esmeralda is always going to be a part of me, just like Sterling is to you. Now we know everything about each other. Both the light and the dark side of the moon.”, she sighed. “Are you disappointed? Now that you know I’m just another rich English lady that wears pretty dressed and her hair up.” They had fallen for the extravagant woman that hired their services after all, so she wouldn’t blame them if they were. 

One of her hands moved slowly towards their face, her fingertips tenderly tracing their features - forehead, cheeks, lips, jaw - as if she was learning them all over again. “Would you stay with me tonight? I want to spend time with you, Stephen, here at home. I want to fall asleep with you, perhaps even eat breakfast in the morning. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I want  to have tonight for ourselves.”

If there was still a heaven waiting to open its gate’s for them, they were fairly certain that on the other side of those gates they would find Delilah waiting there for them, arms opened wide, smile on her lips, looking just as she was now, for this truly felt like something divine. It went even beyond all of the private moments of paradise they had shared before, because this was all truth. No more lies between them. Everything laid bare on the table. And yet they were both still choosing to try for something together, despite the challenges they would face, despite the risks. It was worth it all for a taste of heaven on Earth, they were certain she felt just the same way, and they were both determined for something greater, determined to make this unlike any of the stories. Neither of them were exactly what they were ever meant to be, after all.

The tweaking of the Bible verse made them laugh, their smile more real than it had been in the time since they had last spoken to her. Her arms wrapped around their neck, and they pulled her a little closer again, unable to stop touching her now that they had started doing so again.

“How could I ever disappointed with anything you give me?” they asked, fingers moving to her cheek, caressing lightly. “Rich English lady, or not, it doesn’t change everything we’ve shared. Like you said, Esmeralda is a part of you, and Sterling is a part of me. Everything I said to you is real, and I know that the same is true for you. I think perhaps it’s all even stronger now that we’re both able to be fully honest, now that we know both the light and dark of each other.”

The feeling of her fingers against their skin, tracing their features, memorizing them all over again now that they were truly acquainted, everything laid out on the table. Still, her question, telling them that she wanted to be with them in her home, made their heart speed up with excitement and anticipation. It was hard to believe this was all happening now, after so long dreaming of being able to truly know her, to be with her outside of the Moulin, that it almost didn’t feel real. Yet here she was, telling them she wanted to fall asleep with them in her own bed, to wake next to them, to have breakfast in the morning. To have something normal. She was right, it was hard to say what tomorrow would bring, but they could have this now, and leave the figuring out of reality for later. Now was a time to just be with each other.

“I cannot imagine leaving you, Delilah,” they said with a fond smile, unable to get over how beautiful her name felt on their lips, how beautiful it was to finally call her by it. “I want to wake up with my arms around you, I want you to be the first thing I see when I open my eyes. Can you believe all of this? I’ve dreamt of this for so long, and here we are now, standing in your home. Delilah and Stephen.”

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

She didn’t know why, but for a second she truly thought they were going to leave. If they wanted to break her heart like she had done in the past, this was the perfect chance to do it. Here she was, completely vulnerable, showing every bit of weakness she had. It was the perfect moment to turn back on her, to hurt her like she had done before, or even more. For a moment she really thought they were going to do just that. It was so typical of Delilah to expect the worst of people. It was something her father had taught her years ago - it won’t always be the worst case scenario, but make sure you’re ready for it nonetheless. 

Perhaps this was just it, her worst case scenario. She needed to start thinking of how her life was going to be now if they left - because if they did, it was going to be the end for anything they could have had. 

They didn’t, though. Not only that, but after a couple of seconds she could feel Sterling’s arms wrapping around her, holding her tight. It was as if she had been walking through the desert, desperate for water, and they were an oasis. They were the promised land after years of wandering aimlessly. Their embrace was the rewarded faith. It didn’t matter that she had doubted for a long time, it was still there; their hearts still beat as one. For the first time in weeks she let herself relax, leaning into their touch. Her body was exhausted, too tense, too broken for her to return the hug; so she allowed herself to get lost between their arms, burying her face in their chest as they touched her hair softly. 

“I’ve never felt anything like this before either.”, she almost whispered after a long moment, finally looking up at them and not pulling back. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything, not until you came along. I was raised to pretend, to negotiate, to be clever. Feelings were never part of that equation. All my life I thought being lonely was the best way for me to succeed. Even back when I was engaged, I knew I was going to spend my life alone regardless if I was sharing a bed with someone or not.” Delilah rested the side of her face on their chest once more, clinging onto them almost urgently. “That changed when I met you. The first night you held me, the things you said to me - it was so different and terrifying.”

Their next words definitely took her by surprise, but the sudden raw honesty between them brought a little smile to her face - the first sincere one since they had been together last. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she pulled back, nodding slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Stephen.”, she replied, voice a little weak still, as she extended her hand for them to shake. “I’m Delilah Belvedere. You can call me Del. Only my mother and posh society ladies call me Lilah, it’s not really worth it.” 

Felling her body against theirs after the time without again felt a lot like coming home. They had thought that the Moulin Rouge was there home, but somewhere along the way she had become the place their heart wanted to rest. It wasn’t to say that that had changed, but it was such a new experience, to acknowledge that with another person was where their heart felt most at home, instead of in a place or in a group. One person. She had opened their eyes to things they hadn’t thought were possible for people like them to feel, and so easily, without even trying. 

They could feel her body relaxing into theirs, leaning into them, giving them some of her burden. They only wished that they could have gone back to change all that had happened to lead them to the need for this sort of reunion. To cause the pain, to cause the tears to roll down her cheeks, it made their heart ache. But here they were still, together, hearts still beating in time, bodies fitting together as no other had against theirs before. It was more proof that there was nothing that could stop the feelings they held for each other, that being without would give them nothing but an empty life. It was confirmation that it was all worth the risk of trying for the truth they had shared in private, all so that they might be allowed that little piece of their souls that lived in the other.

When she looked up at them again, it felt a lot like they were seeing her with new eyes. This was honesty, it was truth, not within the confines of their private fantasy, either, this was real. It was more than anything either of them had allowed themself to have together before. It was hope. And here she was, admitting so much to them, and it felt a lot like their eyes were opening truly for the first time in years, as they kept their arms around her. She had been engaged, but she, like many other upper class women, had come to terms with the loneliness of life full of expectations. But they had changed that, without meaning to, just as she had changed so much for them. “You don’t have to be lonely any longer,” they muttered, returning her tight grip, trying to make certain she knew they meant it. “I didn’t think people like me were meant to have anything so real, that we shouldn’t feel so much, that it couldn’t happen. And you proved me wrong. I’m glad I proved you wrong, too.”

Sterling couldn’t help but smile as she pulled back, tucking her hair behind her ear, regaining some of her pristine composure. Hearing her say their name, their real name, sent a chill through their body. No one had called them Stephen in nearly a decade, and to hear it from her felt divine; they would be content to only hear her say it for the rest of their life. They took her hand, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, keeping it in their own even after, clinging onto her as she gave them her full name.

“Delilah. Del,” they repeated, nearly breathless from amazement. They were certain they’d never heard a more beautiful name in their life. “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold. I like Delilah better than Esmeralda. Its beauty suits you.”

[thesterlingmoran]

sereiamona:

“I know I don’t, but it looks sophisticated, doesn’t it?” Mona smiled, taking yet another drag, and this time she managed to blow quite a bit of smoke. It was easy to get used to it, as with every other thing at the Moulin Rouge. It wouldn’t take long before she saw the dances, the rehearsals, the late nights, as something normal in her life - almost like a daily routine. However, a part of her knew she couldn’t let that happen, not fully. There was a reason she was doing this after all. She didn’t want to go to jail, she needed to go back to her previous life; to the lights of the theatre, to Shakespeare and Victor Hugo, to the fame they had known to bring her. That couldn’t happen without getting some information out of people first, and if she wanted to do that, she couldn’t get distracted. She blinked a couple of times, not being subtle at all about the way she watched them take off their shirt. It was all in good fun, though. Simone trusted Sterling was aware of that. 

“So you’re saying he’s tired of waiting for me? That’s it then, I already lost him. Oh Sterling, I did! You’re absolutely right. I lost him. He doesn’t want me anymore. I’m just a shadow that came from the past to haunt him. I’m not the princess, I’m the witch. Can’t you see? I’m not Penelope, I’m Circe. I’m the sorceress begging him to stay, and he doesn’t want to.” Mona crossed her arms, shaking her head is if she had suddenly made a giant discovery and she couldn’t believe her own words. “I was always afraid for him, you know? That he was going to become just that. Even when we were children, I’d tell him I was going to protect him from all the bad things the world did to him. I didn’t. I left.”, she sighed. “I guess he’s right. I wouldn’t want me either if I were him.”

She rolled her eyes and their lack of acknowledgement for the new alias, but she couldn’t really blame them. “You say that as if getting rid of him was easy. You have no idea the things he’s done. He finds me everywhere. Last night he talked to Valentina and pulled me out of the stage before I could go up and finish my show. And the promises he makes. He’s insane. I won’t be able to avoid him forever.” Mona shook her head. “I’m not that worried about the money. More about the experience.” The police was paying her a decent fee after all. “Do you think he’ll want me?”

“It does. And most patrons expect it, to be honest. They find it attractive. Who doesn’t like to light the cigarette of a beautiful temptation, after all?” they laughed lightly, watching her continue. She was already getting better at it, that was clear. It was hard to say if that was a good thing or not, though. Mona seemed very capable of slipping into what she needed to be for the Moulin, but knowing what she had been before coming back made them almost sad at the thought of her having to resort to this all. They didn’t know what had brought her back, but they only hoped she wanted to be here, not that she felt there was no other choice.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” they said, a little sternly, as sternly as someone sitting on silk sheets shirtless could manage. Maybe it was hypocritical to try to stop her from catastrophizing when they did exactly the same thing with Esmeralda, but they didn’t want her to lose her chance at something just because of a few mistakes. “You’re only listening to half of what I’m saying; you know it’s not that simple. You’ve got years and years of history. No matter what’s happened, that can’t be erased, but you need to give him time. He built a life in the meantime while you were apart, and so did you; you both need a chance to come to terms with being back in each others’ lives. You both need to figure out how to navigate things. It’s not over yet, unless he asks you to back off, or you want to stop trying, and let go of everything you used to have. But I don’t think either of you want that.”

Sterling let out a little sigh, and laid back on their bed. They were starting to realize just how similar their situations were, and the realization hit a little too close to home. A long drag of the cigarette, a puff of smoke, and then onward. “You’ve got to realize that it was never either of your responsibilities to save each other. You both made choices separately from each other, and what happened happened,” they explained, before sitting back up at her next words. “If he’s bothering you, you should tell one of the bodyguards, or hell, even Vivienne; just because he’s got money doesn’t mean he can harass you. But of course, Babyface will want you! You’re beautiful, young, and you have a history. He’s probably been dreaming of sleeping with you for years, Mona.”

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

Every single word coming out of their mouth made it worse and worse. How was she supposed to resist? How could she stay whole when all they were saying seemed to be specifically designed to break her will? She could feel her walls crumbling, her heart beating frantically; all of a sudden it was harder and harder to breathe. Sterling claimed they couldn’t stop what they felt for her, but what about what she felt about them? Who did they think they were to come here and ruin everything she had been trying to do so far? You don’t have the right, she wanted to say, to make me love you like this when I’ve spent so much time trying to erase everything we shared. But she couldn’t. Everything that had been left unsaid was like a cage surrounding her, iron bars made of truths suffocating her. Delilah was fearless, she was bold, and yet her hands were starting to shake as Sterling kept speaking. 

“What do you want me to say?”, she asked, her pain clear in her voice. “That I feel the same way? That the nights I shared with you were the realest thing that ever happened to me? That you’re still my first thought every day when I wake up, and the last face in my mind when I go to sleep?” Delilah inhaled sharply, trying to keep herself together. It was too late, though. She could feel the tears starting to dampen her eyes, the knot of sadness climbing up her throat. 

“What difference would it make? Things would still be the same. I could tell you how I feel about you, how my heart shattered when you told me you had been with someone else. How I can barely stand the thought of you sleeping with other people even if I know that’s your job. Would it change anything? You’re still a courtesan, and I’m a patron. We can’t have anything real. I could ruin you, I could hurt you. You might as well go back to the Moulin Rouge and try to start something new with Annette, or someone else. You deserve better, and that’s not me.”

Finally the tears started rolling down her cheeks, her whole body shaking. It was the first time she had cried in front of anyone that wasn’t her butler. Perhaps that should alarm her, make her realise how much of a fraud her life was. What kind of woman was she that couldn’t express emotion? A woman that needed to break down completely in order to show some vulnerability. It didn’t matter now. All she wanted was for them to hold her, to tell her everything was going to be all right, to assure her that nothing had changed. However, what she had told them before was true. There was nothing she could offer. Not even with all her fortune she could make sure whatever they tried wouldn’t end in disaster. 

They were well aware that none of this was fair. If they had been a better person, they would have left. They would have turned and walked out of the door, and never looked back. They would have gone on, as if they could ever possibly forget the love they felt for her; if they saw her in a store again, they would have walked by, not sparing another glance. If they had been better, they would have let the pain they caused stop when she had told them it was best that they left.

But they couldn’t.

Not as she went on, telling them all the things they knew were true, telling them that, no matter what had happened the last time they had spoken, she still felt so much for them. What a cruel world, for both of them, that there was no way to ignore it, to have the lives they had been made for. Or perhaps what a beautiful world, that despite what was expected, they had both been given something so pure, so divine in nature, a love that may have been reflected in God’s word, despite the circumstances that led to it. She asked what difference it all made, that they felt so much, and in their heart they wanted to shout all of the difference, all of it.

Tears rolled down her cheeks suddenly, her whole body shaking from the weight of the emotions, and they couldn’t hold back any longer. Sterling stepped forward, closing the gap between them, and wrapped their arms around her, holding her tightly against their chest, as if they might be able to keep her from breaking if only they hold her tightly enough.

“What if I tell you I’d do anything to take that chance? What if I told you that the chance at having something real with you would be worth losing everything I know, that it would be worth the risk of more pain, just for a little piece of heaven?” they said, voice full of certainty. Their heart beat rapidly against their chest, propelling them on. How could they stop now? “I have never felt anything more real than what I feel for you. I don’t care what you think I deserve, you’re what I want. Good or bad, I can’t help it, we can’t promise a happy ending, but we can have something happy along the way. Because I feel all of it, too; when I think of you, I feel happiness in a way that I’ve been told over and over again people who do what I do aren’t meant to.”

They paused for a second, one hand moving to stroke her hair lightly. An idea, an epiphany filled their mind, and before they could think the better of it, they kept on, pulling back slightly so they could look her in the eye. “Maybe we can start again. Maybe it’ll be easier if we start with honesty. Not as courtesan and patron. Just as two people,” they suggested, swallowing down the nerves, and committing to it all, “Lilah, I’m Stephen. And I’m so glad to finally meet you.”

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

There was a little frown painted on her features at their words, and she didn’t know why. The last thing she needed was to meddle in Sterling’s financial affairs. If they wanted to spend their coin in a pretentious, overpriced patisserie; then that was their choice and she had no say in it. Nonetheless, there was something about money gone to waste that had always peeved her, especially when it came to people she cared about. Because that was the thing; she cared about then still. It didn’t matter how long it had been, how badly they had hurt her, what she felt about them wasn’t something that she could forget about overnight - even though she had tried to. That was the reason her heart was beating so fast, the reason why for what probably was the first time in her life, she was fumbling with words, unsure of what to say. She needed to get out of there, she knew as much; and yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it, not before talking to them, perhaps finding out somehow if they still felt the same way. 

“I know how much you’re paid, and I know you have the money. I just didn’t think you’d spend it on something like this.” Her words sounded judgemental, and they were. Perhaps that wasn’t the way to treat the person she had been pretty much dreaming about the last couple of weeks, but she couldn’t help a little bit of bitterness to taint the conversation. After all, what they had done still hurt, very much like the first moment they had confessed what had happened - so shortly after their declaration of love. 

You don’t have to pay me anymore, they replied, and despite knowing what they were talking about, the words suddenly took a new meaning. Money wasn’t a thing between them any longer, no matter what she did. They were two people now, talking on the street. She wasn’t a patron, and they weren’t a courtesan, just like she had always fantasised during their nights together. It felt as if they were saying that from now on, whatever they decided to do, this wasn’t going to be a business arrangement. This was real, they were real. No masks, no lies; just two people, and a second chance. 

Was she going to take it? 

The realisation of what was happening, of what she still felt, was almost too much to handle. She felt like her corset was suffocating her again. It was then that she realised she had taken a couple of steps closer to them without noticing. Their next words only intensified her sensations, and she suddenly felt the urge to cry; to break down in the middle of the street, to kick the thoroughly crafted house of cards she had built around herself. She couldn’t do it in public, though. She still had a reputation, she was Delilah Belvedere and she couldn’t afford a scandal. But she didn’t want them to leave, she was terrified of being alone, terrified of losing them.  

Without saying a word she took their hand, a little gentler this time, and dragged them across the streets. She stayed quiet, guiding them forward without looking back. She was afraid of what would happen if she dared to talk out loud right now. Fortunately her apartment was nearby, and the second she opened the door, her butler excused himself to leave them alone. 

“Why, Sterling?”, she asked, voice filled with something close to desperation. “Why do you say those things? Why did you even talk to me back then? Why can’t you just let it be? Don’t you realise I’ve got nothing to offer you?”

Her words stung more than they really should have, given how little they usually cared what other people thought of how they spent their money. But this was her, not just someone else. Sterling had always had a love of decadence, a love of luxurious but useless things, that stemmed from their childhood, the humble, bland childhood of a preacher’s son, and finding themself with enough money to have nearly anything they could want without worries had always made them want to use it. Never a thought of saving, because in their life, what was the point? The life of a courtesan was fleeting, there was little point of saving and scrimping when they felt certain they’d never have a life outside of this. They didn’t care what other people thought, but she wasn’t other people. And the sting of it only reminded them of all the other insults, just as accurate at this, that she had hurled at them during their last meeting. 

All they did in response was shrug lightly, fold their arms over their chest, as if it didn’t truly matter anyway, and purse their lips, trying, and for once failing, to keep their emotions from their face. This had been a mistake, they were realizing, they should have just walked past, should have let her live her life like she wanted, shouldn’t have forced their presence back on her when she had made it clear it was all over. But they couldn’t. It was impossible to ignore all they felt for her, it was impossible to forget all they had shared, how real it was. And seeing her again was just a reminder of everything they couldn’t forget. This was torture, though, being so close to her, but feeling the distance, knowing that hope had long been broken.

They were focusing all of their attention on not looking her in the eye, again, because it felt a lot like they wouldn’t be able to keep from wrapping their arms around her if they did. She had stepped closer to them, and their heart beat even faster in response. Still, it was a shock when she grabbed their hand, this time gentler, and started off, leading them down the street, away from the store. Their heart raced in their chest, breath fast, wondering where she was taking them. They couldn’t have guessed it would be here, though, because as soon as she ushered them inside of the apartment, the butler dismissing himself, they realized where they were. Her home.

Sterling was almost too astonished, too busy looking around at the beautiful apartment, imagining her life there, even the most mundane things infinitely interesting and magical now, to hear what she said. Her voice uttering their name with such desperation, though, shook them out of their stupor, and they looked back at her. 

“I’m... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn’t. I tried to let it be, I was letting it be, but seeing you again, it felt like one last chance to say even a few words to you, to see you, even if for a split second. So I had to say something. Because no matter how hard I try, no matter how much you think you have nothing to offer me, you still hold my heart in your hands. And I can’t stop that. I’m sorry,” they said quietly, looking at her, their face full of sadness.

[thesterlingmoran]

elodiecelestine:

“A hedonist,” she repeats, taking a sip from the champagne bottle. Just like all of us. She was not sure what it meant, but it felt nice to be included in the comparison. Their lives were vastly different, she and Sterling, and yet somehow not so different at all. Perhaps it was fate that had led them both to the same place at the same time, or maybe it was luck. Either way, she was grateful to whatever stars had crossed to allow them to occupy the same space together. She only wished she could be more like them, more like all of the courtesans. “I’m not so sure I know what that means, but I like it.” 

Every word that fell from their mouth sounded like poetry in motion. She can’t help but to smile as she listens, piling bubbles into her hands and clapping them together. The bubbles catch the light and turn to rainbows. “He sounds like someone that would have fit in well around here,” she laughs, allowing herself a moment of indulgence before diverting her tone to something more serious, “the world will be better in our lifetime, you know. Love will simply be love, regardless of who it is with.” A shrug of her shoulders and she twirls her hair into a twist atop her head, “we will make it better, if we have to. We’ll make Mr. Wilde proud, I’m sure!” She finishes speaking with a little splash directed at Sterling.

“Which one is your favorite?” She smiles, fingers now tracing the pocket watch on their arm, “I’m partial to this one, though I’m not sure why. Somehow it just suits you.”

“It’s a good label to like. It’s someone who believes the seeking of pleasure is one of the most important things in life. Someone who appreciates everything we do here,” Sterling explains with a little nod, reaching over to ruffle her hair fondly, as if to illustrate the point.

They smile back at her, a little sadly. The optimism is endearing, but it’s hard for them to believe that it will be better, that it won’t matter who you love, in one way or another. It makes them think of their parents, of the way their mother couldn’t even look at them when she found out, the pure hatred in their father’s eyes after he recovered from the shock. It’s hard to imagine people like them ever thinking that way. But they hoped that maybe she was right even in a tiny regard. The splash of water draws a laugh from their lips, the smile losing the melancholy. “You’re right, we’ll make it better, even if it’s just behind the comfort of our walls. I think we’re already making him proud, in a way, after all. Being who we are, being free,” Sterling says

“I like that one, too, but I’m biased,” he laughs, looking down at the watch, watching her fingers trail over it. “There was this pocket watch, in my family, passed down from father to son. It was meant to be mine next, once I finished my schooling...but I was disowned before that happened. So I took it anyway, albeit in a different way. It might be my favorite one, too. Or the Wordsworth line.” He raised his arm to show the words on his inner bicep, but welcome fortitude. “Kind of goes with the whole being who we are despite what the world thinks thing.”

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

Even though summer was nearing, Delilah still felt a chill down her spine the second they saw them walk out of the door towards her. There was no way her friends were going to follow her, too busy and enthralled with their own lives and gossip to even care about what was happened to her, but still she grabbed their arm before they could even respond and pulled them to the side of the store. In her eyes there was sheer panic, and her heart was beating frantically. She would have liked to say it was only due to fear, but that would have been a blatant lie. She was seeing them for the first time since everything, they were face to face now, and she could almost feel her heart shrinking in pain, and something much worse, hope. 

Of course they hadn’t been following her or anything. As much as she wanted to believe it, Sterling wasn’t like that. It would have been easier to convince herself that they were indeed a bad person, like she had told them the last time they had been together; that they wanted to hurt her. However, she had had a moment to reflect since then, and she had realised she had been blinded by her own anger. What they had done was awful, that much was true. They had shattered her heart, they had been selfish, perhaps a little bit cruel; but their intentions had been good. It had been a mistake, one that they had immediately admitted in hopes of her forgiving them and start anew. 

But she had stepped all over that hope. 

It pained her to recognise she regretted it. Especially now that they were standing in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around their neck and kiss them like she hadn’t been able to the last couple of weeks. She couldn’t, obviously, not right now - at least not until they had cleared things up, that she made sure they were going to say anything about her real identity, the people she surrounded herself with, her real name. 

“I know you weren’t following me, Sterling.” Delilah crossed her arms, pursing her lips briefly, completely at a loss of what to say. The wisest thing would have been to demand them to stay quiet and leave, but she didn’t want the conversation to end. 

“I wasn’t aware dancers at the Moulin Rouge could afford this place.” Wrong way to start the conversation. She shifted uncomfortably in her place. “Listen, I- we need to talk, all right? Whatever you heard in there, whatever you think you know, you can’t tell anyone about it. I know our last encounter wasn’t ideal, but I can make it up to you if you want. I’ll pay any amount you need, just promise you won’t say anything.”, she sighed. “It could ruin everything for me. All I’ve ever worked for since I was a little girl.”

It would’ve been easier if they weren’t so completely mesmerized by seeing her like this, seeing her how she was when she was Lilah, and not Esmeralda, just another upper class woman out in Paris with her other rich lady friends. Something so completely different than what she had been every time they had been with her in the Moulin, but still someone just as beautiful and intriguing. There had always been the fear that maybe when they found out who she really was, the feelings would change, that somehow in the process of building a fantasy for her, they had created a fantasy for themself. But this was just proof that it wasn’t true. For if anything seeing her again, hearing her name, and being near her as she was made the feelings grow tenfold.

Which made the pain even worse, knowing that they had ruined all of it by being too afraid of their own feelings, by trying to run from the truth, instead of fighting for something real.

Her hand on their arm, as rough as it was, send a wave of something unidentifiable through their body, heart beating as if it was trying to escape their chest. It was all of the memories they had shared, wrapped up in one simple touch of an arm, and all of the pain that came from knowing it was over, just in that touch as well. It made them want to try again, to beg her for another chance to prove themself, to prove that they could be better and that they would fight for it the right way this time, that they were done running, but they knew they couldn’t. Their last conversation had just been confirmation that it was all over, and the way she had disappeared from the Moulin just asserted that fact. They might’ve still felt so much for her, but they would never force her into more pain, after everything they did.

Her words too them by surprise, though, in more way than one, and for a split second they weren’t sure they were hearing her right.

“You know how much I’m paid, of course I can afford places like this. I bought this suit with my own money, too, if you can believe,” they said, a look of nearly amused confusion washing over their face. It hurt them to realize that she was offering to pay them off so that they wouldn’t tell anyone who she was, when the last thing on their mind was hurting her, when even just seeing her again, holding the knowledge of her name in their heart felt like enough to sustain them for a long time without.

“You don’t have to pay me anymore,” Sterling frowned, shaking their head. “I’ve already hurt you enough. You had two separate lives, why would I begrudge you that? We all ended up at the Moulin for the chance to be something we can’t be outside of its walls. Whatever it is you’ve worked for since you were a little girl, I’m not going to ruin it. I’ve already ruined enough for you. I’d never dream of telling anyone what I heard.”

[thesterlingmoran]

nettyfawn:

It’s as simple as that, just the gentle motion of them brushing her hair from her face, and she almost wants to smile at them. She almost forgets everything in that moment – she’s brought back to lazy sunrises through her window and Sterling pushing her hair from her face to kiss her good morning. She’d called back to night sneaking into the dance studio together and doing more kissing than practice, how her hair would fall into her face as she spun into his arms and he would brush it away so she could fully see the smile on his face. But she doesn’t smile at Sterling; because as tangled up as she is in this moment, as helpless as she feels to fall into him, it’s not enough to erase the damaged caused. You can’t unring a bell, you can’t uncrack a mirror, you can’t unsee the man you love pouring his love into the eyes of someone else.

She can feel the rough texture of the wall against the skin of her back as their bodies move together in rhythm, the plane of her skin exposed by her costume. Her legs are locked around his middle and his thumbs pressing hard into her hips are enough to make her moan into his lips as the kiss turns from sentiment to pure hunger, her slender fingers lacing into his dark hair once more as if it’s the last thing of them that she’ll ever get to hold on to.

Annette can’t say that this particular feeling of him, buried inside of her fully in a pace that shows that he knows what he’s doing by the gasps it pulls from her when it speeds, is definitively better than all the other ways they managed to drive each other to their respective peaks.  They’d gotten particularly talented with their fingers and mouths in their nights together. However, she has to admit that she’s never felt connected to Sterling quite like this before – it’s a moment as intimate as all of the dances the two of them have shared, and no one has ever been able to deny their chemistry while dancing (especially after the display they had just put on).

Their bodies move expertly together, as if they’d always been meant to do this specific dance. They make sure their hold on her doesn’t falter as they thrust into her at their pace, and Annette matches every meeting of their hips with a slow roll of her own. The two of them know each other bodies; they know how things build in each other, they know how to focus when the goal is at hand and how to bring a performance to it’s climax.

She finds the moment faster than she thought she would (though it’s no surprise with Sterling’s experience in comparison to her own). A shiver runs through Annette’s petite frame, the muscles of her thighs tightening around his hips as she arches herself to him. A hand in his hair, the other on the back of his neck as her lips break from his with a whimpered cry as she finds ecstasy, their foreheads pressed together in the tightened space between their bodies and the wall. 

She wants to say something, perhaps their name or even let ‘I love you’ slip out, but she can’t manage to make anything come from her lips but her shaking breath.

For a split second, it feels like there’s a possibility for tenderness. For the sort of thing Netty deserves in a moment like this, the sort of thing that he can’t promise her anymore, the sort of thing he never really could, no matter how much it felt like it for so long. The moment passes in an instant, though, both of them too full of the need for this feeling to linger on something long gone, something that’s not possible any longer. His hands are rough and needy, and hers are the same, fingers tangling in hair a little too tightly, drawing a moan from his lips, caught in the open-mouthed kiss.

There’s no way to deny just how well their bodies fit together. Months and months of learning each other’s bodies in other ways, months and months of dancing together, of kissing and touching, finding the same sort of pleasure without the added benefit of such closeness. In a way, it feels like all of that was building up to this moment, that no matter what, it had to happen. Like the two of them finally giving in and crashing together, even fueled by frustration and confusion and anger, had to happen so that things might finally be finished. Because that’s what this is, at least in their mind. An ending.

An ending triggered out of nowhere, one that should have happened months and months ago, under better circumstances. But here they are now, and with every thrust of their hips, every roll of her body against theirs, that ending comes closer and closer. It feels almost strange, a memory recalled that they weren’t asking for, to know just a second before it happens that she’s there. It feels a lot like another thing they’ve taken from her that they don’t deserve to possess. But that’s the last thing they can think of in the moment, as she tightens around them pressing closer, forehead pressed to theirs.

It could be a quiet moment, a moment to slow down, to let her ride out the waves of pleasure as he holds her close, swallow her shaky breaths and whimpers with his lips, perhaps even tell her just how beautiful she looks like this, a mess of unadulterated pleasure, a release of frustration built up for so long. But he doesn’t, because that wouldn’t be fair, now, when none of this is really fair in the first place. So he only slows this pace slightly, instead moving to deep, long thrusts into her, feeling their own familiar heat building in the pit of their stomach. It would be so easy to make it all last, to keep going, to give her that same feeling over and over again right there where they stood, steal a few more moments together, but even they aren’t that cruel. It’s only a bit longer before he finally leave her warmth, a few more thrusts between the friction of their bodies, before he finds his own pleasure, moving to bury his face in the crook of her neck, moan muffled against her skin. 

What they should do is pull away, let go of Netty, and leave all of this behind, but they can’t bring themself to move from the position, to let their grip on her loosen, as reality sets again.

[thesterlingmoran]

sereiamona:

Simone smiled, taking a cigarette and the lighter. The moment she took the first drag she exploded into a cough fit. She had only smoked once or twice before, but if she was going to be a courtesan of the Moulin Rouge she thought it was a good thing to start doing it. And what better way than with Sterling there? Knowing they had her back and they weren’t going to laugh at her - at least not too much. Better coughing in front of them than in front of a patron. The second drag was a little bit better, but she coughed again at their words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Toddlerface is a perfectly fine alias and it keeps his identity in the utmost secrecy.” It wasn’t, obviously, but now that Sterling knew who she was talking about, she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction to also name him.  

She stayed quiet for a moment as they got more comfortable. Mona focused on the cigarette, on inhaling slowly, retaining the smoke for a moment and blowing it out as she had seen almost everyone do. At least there weren’t any more cough fits in sight. When they finally spoke again she sighed, trying for once to put her thoughts in order to explain them better - and not word vomiting them like she usually did. 

“I know it’s a long time. But I had always thought things between us were never going to change. You know, like those tales. Have you read the story of Ulysses? His wife waited for him for years, everyone thought him dead and she endured. And he came back in the end! I guess real life doesn’t work that way.”, Mona shrugged, but something they said made her furrow her brow. “What do you mean a mess? What happened to him before the fire?” It was unfair to ask Sterling, of course, especially if Baby had decided not to tell her about it. But she needed to know. She needed to find out what was so bad that had made him decide to push her out. “But what if we learn to know each other again and he decides he doesn’t like me anymore?” She pouted, but their next words provoked a little giggle out of her. “I have to admit, it would be easier to sleep with him before everyone else. Less intimidating for sure. Better him than K- Cilian. But that’s another story.”

“You know, you don’t have to smoke. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” they commented with a raised eyebrow, the laugh clear in their voice. Of all the vices within the Moulin Rouge, though, that was certainly not the worst. So if Mona wanted to indulge in that one, they weren’t going to really try to stop her. It was a good thing to do for clients, after all, give them a reason to lean in close, to share something intimate. A strategy. They listened as she went on, as they started unbuttoning their shirt, cigarette dangling between their lips as they watched her. “Yes, Mona, but Penelope wasn’t exactly happy about being left alone, and at the end, she decides to stop waiting for him. He comes back just in time. You have to consider that, unlike Ulysses, maybe you didn’t make it back in time,” Sterling reasoned, pausing from their shirt to take another drag.  “And if he decides he doesn’t want all of it anymore, you have to accept it. Trying to force something only makes it worse. People grow and change, but sometimes they just need time. It might be your turn to be Penelope.”

They paused, pursing their lips at her question. If he hadn’t told her, they weren’t sure they should be the one to do so. But it was common enough knowledge, and if she hadn’t heard it yet, she was going to hear it soon. Maybe it was for the best that they told her and not someone else, considering how close she seemed to have been with him. “Most people here are addicts, but he was a real addict. He would come in here barely functioning; it wasn’t just for fun anymore, it was a need from what I’ve heard. Opium, or maybe heroin, I’m not sure,” they said with a frown, hoping that it was the right thing to do to tell her.

This time, they decided not to even acknowledge the even worse alias, when they both knew exactly who she was talking about. They shook their head with a little laugh. “You certainly don’t want Killian to be your first patron. If he’s anything like his brother was, you’ll want someone who actually possesses human emotions, and doesn’t just want to use you. It’d be easy if you want it to be Babyface. But he does have a bad habit of only paying with his products, so be prepared for that. He tried to buy my time with his drugs and I rejected him, said I only take cash. Thought he was going to throw a tantrum,” they laughed.

[thesterlingmoran]

charlotte-leigh:

“I remember.” Is all she can think to say, in a tone she typically reserves only for clients that pay for her to be so venomous. Maybe they’re right. Actually, she is certain they’re right, but it is too late now. The seed has been planted in what is left of her heart and it has grown only anger, perhaps stemming from a place of hurt, of jealousy. Wasn’t that the root of most of her problems: envy as green as her narrowed eyes? Envy of a love she would never have, secondhand envy of the life Delilah had that should have belonged to Netty. They were simply a target for anger that had been building in her chest, as unfair as it was. It was silly, and she knew that, but it didn’t matter. 

On the surface, Sterling had everything she wanted. They were a fantastic dancer, although she hated to admit it, successful in almost everything they chose to do. They had people that loved them. Their charm, which she had once found so charismatic, so intriguing, was now only poison seeping into her circulation with every overly calm word that left their mouth. “Do you remember what this job is?” It takes everything in her not to toss the champagne flute to the ground, let it shatter at her feet, remind her that all of this is real, that her harsh words can’t be undone. “We don’t get to fall for patrons, for customers. We are props to help set the fucking scene, remember? That’s it. Nobody loves things that can be bought. So whatever it is you thought you had with that someone else is bullshit. All of it.” 

Her words were nothing more than a projection of her own issues, and she was certain they hurt her worse than Sterling.  “You and Annette could have had something real and you threw it away. You wasted it on something that’s fucking bullshit.” She shakes her head, a deceptive smile still on her face. “I want you to remember what exactly we are,” emphasis on the we, her smile falters, “which is a product. When you remember that is all we are to these patrons, no matter how many sweet nothings they may tell you, you’ll realize that your chance at something real was thrown away when you left Annette.” 

If everything else she had said had only added fuel to their guilt, her words now did nothing but tempt a deep melancholy from the pit of their stomach. Everything she says is exactly what they fear, after all. In some small way, it has to be what all of them fear; that because of who they are, what they’re used for, something real isn’t possible, they can’t have the love that they act out every single night for a pretty penny. The reminder of that fear makes their breath catch in their throat, a whole different set of worries flooding over them. But no matter what had happened, they know that what they feel is real, what she feels for them is just as real, even if it might not give them a happy ending. It doesn’t make it any less true, because if it did, then what would be the point of even trying? And they can’t lose the little bit of hope for something normal that they have left.

“Believe me, Charlotte, I’m well aware of what we are. I’m well aware of what they made me when they stole me away from my home and forced me into this. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find something real among all of the bullshit, as you put it,” he says, voice quiet, a hint of emotion finally creeping into it again. He pauses, just looking at her for a long minute with something close to curiosity, and act, perhaps cruel, but she hasn’t been exactly kind. A shrug accompanies his words. “Or maybe it is true in your case. But I’ve found that it’s very possible to love something that can be bought. Esmeralda and I, we fell for each other. It might not have a happy ending, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t as real as anything I had with Netty.”

“You can put all of your own feelings on me, but it won’t change it. It would never have been fair to Netty for me to stay with her, even if Esmeralda wasn’t a factor; no matter how real that was, it was never as strong as this for me,” Sterling admits. “I regret how things ended, and I know I should have been strong enough not to go back to her, even just for a night, but none of it changes the truth of any of it, with Netty or Esmeralda. I’m sorry that your heart has been hurt so badly that you refuse to believe that even we are capable of a real love with someone who loves us, too.”

[zane-daddy-holtz]

this set ♡

[thesterlingmoran]

ellaesmeralda:

Delilah wasn’t a woman that usually felt intimidated or overwhelmed. She had been prepared all her life not to do just that. Being a business woman in a country where there was none was a difficult task, almost monumental. She wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if she had been easily scared. But after all these years it looked like she had finally run into a situation that was too much, even for her. The realisation of what was happening, what could happen after this, came crashing down and her face suddenly turned pale. Who knew what Sterling was feeling towards her right now? They would be right to hate her, she had broken their heart after all. Were they capable of exposing her right there and then? Whatever they mentioned, even the slightest thing, could mean her ruin. 

For a second it looked like Sterling was going to avoid her altogether, and her stomach sunk with a mix of relief and disappointment. They walked by, seemingly not affected by her presence, and she averted her gaze the other way, no matter how strong the pull to look at them again was. However, their voice and the casual greeting caused her to gasp involuntarily. She only nodded in return, before turning to her friends. 

Unfortunately the change of attitude and the little exchange hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Lilah, dear, do you know him? You should introduce us!” Mrs. Greerwood seemed way too excited, and almost too eager to learn some gossip as well. Great, now Sterling knew her name as well. It didn’t take her long to realise she needed to take some drastic measure if she wanted to prevent any disaster from happening. “I’m afraid I don’t, Lorna. I’m guessing the greeting was a matter of mere courtesy.” The answer didn’t satisfy the woman’s curiosity. “All the better then! You should go an introduce yourself! Come on child, you’re single, but you won’t be for too long. This could be your last chance for a little flirtation- and just look at that! You should take it!”

Delilah chuckled, brushing off Mrs. Greerwood’s words. However, she could feel her corset suffocating her from under her dress. She needed to leave, and soon; and she needed to tell Sterling to forget about all this. After a couple of seconds she managed to catch their eye again, sending them a very obvious meet me outside look.

“My friends, I’m so sorry to do this, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave you. It seems I’ve eaten a lot of pastries and I’m feeling quite nauseated. I’ll go call for a carriage outside, but please stay here. You’ll tell me everything tomorrow at dinner.” With an everlasting polite smile, Delilah stood up and stepped outside. As expected, Sterling followed. 

“What are you doing here?”

They could see all of their own questions and fears reflected on her face in the moment they quietly greeted her before going to the counter, the gasp a sign that she was just as surprised as they were. It hurt their heart to see the fear on her face, they they could cause just by being near. Perhaps it was justified; after all, their last meeting had been anything but kind, and it would have been easy enough to extract some kind of sick revenge now by telling her lady friends where they knew each other from and what they did together there. But they never wanted to hurt her anymore than they already had. So they went to the counter, trying not to look back again, but unable to ignore the conversation even as they ordered several pastries to take back with them.

And something struck them almost immediately.

Lilah. In that moment they had never heard a word so important or beautiful as that. Her real name was Lilah, or some form of it. The realization hit them square in the chest, taking their breath away for a second, to the point where they had to put a hand on the counter to keep themself from stumbling. Somehow, it was the most beautiful name they had ever heard, and they hated themself for thinking that first, before anything else. How easily they had just stumbled upon the information they had searched weeks and weeks for in the time the Moulin was closed. But they could do nothing with it now. Nothing but dream of holding her again, whispering her true name under their breath as they prayed for her.

When Sterling turned back, bag of goodies in hand, it had been their intention to walk straight out of the place, but it was impossible not to look at her again, not to meet eyes. And strangely enough, her look told them that she wanted to speak. If their heart hadn’t been racing before, now it felt as if it might burst from their chest. They followed after her a few seconds later, as if in a daze, completely unaware of anything but her.

They didn’t know what to expect, but they weren’t expecting her question to be that, of all the things she might’ve asked. A little part of them couldn’t help but feel disappointed, although they knew they had no right to feel so, given what they had done to break her heart.

“I just... I came to pick up a few pastries. Someone recommended this place to me, and I was out shopping, so I thought I’d stop in... I had no clue you were here, or I wouldn’t have bothered you, I promise,” they said, voice hushed although they knew that her friends couldn’t hear them.

[thesterlingmoran]

charlotte-leigh:

In the back of her mind, Charlotte knew they were right. They usually were, if she was being honest, but she would never admit to it. Sterling always had a way of making her angry over little things, something she wasn’t proud of. They weren’t a bad person, she knew that, but the rational part of her brain and the part that had been angry for years maintained a distinct level of separation. Now, they were belittling her with that stupid handsome face and ridiculous logical arguments and all of it made her even more frustrated. “Don’t talk to me like I’m fucking stupid, Sterling,” she sighs.

If she stops fidgeting with her fingers, she’s certain she will hit them, and she doesn’t want to hit them. If she does, Netty will be angry at her for getting physical and Valentina will be angry for leaving a bruise on them before performances and Vivienne will be angry for causing trouble. It isn’t worth it, she reminds herself, but still she wrings her fingers together to keep them occupied. While it may not be worth it to hit them, she remembers there is a glass of champagne on the dressing table. “Sure, she’s an adult, but that doesn’t make everything fine. She made her choices but she’s lovesick. Don’t you think that fucking changes things?”

The look on their face is too much for Charlotte to bear. They always were attractive when they got angry. She rolls her eyes and reaches for the champagne flute on the table, “do you insist on talking down at me? Or can you try and understand why I’m angry?” She doesn’t wait for an answer as she takes a sip of the champagne before tossing it in their dumb handsome face. "Consider this, I’m angry because you made the choice before to break her fuckin’ heart at Babs’ birthday party, then you decided to fuck her and send her off to live the life of a courtesan. She made the choice to get into bed with you but you made the choice to hurt her months ago, so let’s stop pretending that you’re both innocent in all of this, non?”

The champagne barely stings more than the water Netty had thrown in their face during the dance, obviously low quality, probably not even champagne at all. It’s more of an annoyance than anything else, at this point, and it’s not nearly as bad as being punched in the throat. They’re starting to think they need to get used to being assaulted given the way things are going, and they can’t really blame anyone for it. They deserve every thrown drink and punch, even if not for the reasons Charlotte seems to think. All they do as she goes on, accusing them of things they weren’t even guilty of now, is to pull their shirt up to their face and wipe the champagne away as best they can.

When Sterling speaks again, his voice is deadly quiet, a thinly concealed anger just beneath the surface. If he’s going to nailed to the proverbial cross for what he’s done, he at least wants it to be accurate accusations. “I do understand why you’re angry, Charlotte, you didn’t need to douse me in your champagne for me to get it. Neither of us are innocent. You’ve already made up your mind, so it’s pointless for me to argue, but I never said I was innocent,” he says, voice as casual as ever, as if they’re just talking about the weather now.

“But do you remember Babs’ party at all? Call me an idiot, but I didn’t realize I had strayed so far until she confronted me that night. I didn’t realize I was falling for someone else until she pointed it out to me. If I had realized I would have taken responsibility for myself. You know me, Charlotte, even if you don’t want to. If it was my choice, we would’ve talked in private, I would’ve been gentle with her heart. But you all wanted a villain, so here I am,” they shrugged. “As for fucking her and sending her off to live as a courtesan, if anything, when we were together, I tried to make sure she knew this wasn’t the life she deserved. She chose this, and she chose me. I hurt her, I know, but we both choose this life, separately, and we both choose to do what we did, separately. So I don’t know what you want from me, Charlotte.”

[culebraroyalty]

[thesterlingmoran]

sereiamona:

Simone shrugged. “Why not?”, an eye roll followed right after. “Oh come on Sterling, don’t be ancient. She doesn’t have to like you to want to hear how you are in bed. It can be a matter of curiosity.” Mona didn’t really know what it was like to have siblings. The closest she was to that had been Aurelie and Baby back when they were children - and now as well, though she wasn’t sure exactly where things with her and Baby stood. However, this felt a lot like that. The banter, the laughter, making each other smile, having each other’s backs. She suddenly wondered if Sterling had siblings themself; maybe a whole lot of them they had left behind. It wasn’t common for dancers and courtesans to talk about their stories before the Moulin Rouge, but she wasn’t any dancer; and hopefully they would trust her enough to tell her about it eventually. 

There was a moment of silence after her mention of the dance, and she was afraid she had messed up. It wouldn’t be the first time her lack of filter and self control when talking had gotten her in trouble. But Sterling kept holding her hand nonetheless. Perhaps this was also part of having a sibling, forgiving each other whenever the other talked shit they knew nothing about. 

They finally reached their room and they let her in. She stayed in silence for a second, taking in everything in there. It was very much like them, and at the same time it wasn’t. A home, that wasn’t quite so. She knew that feeling very well. “Can I have one of those?”, she asked, pointing at the cigarettes. “No, no, it’s not like that. We already have something real, or had. He- uhm- I don’t want you to know who he is so let’s call him- toddler… face. Toddlerface. So toddlerface and I were best friends, you know, like brother and sister. We were inseparable. Then I had this massive crush on him when I was like thirteen and one night we were looking at the stars and he kissed me, and we kissed for a couple of weeks, and then I left. Never came back. I became an actress. And here I am now, and he’s here too. And now he’s a patron, but he’s also my best friend - isn’t he? I just- I don’t know where we stand. We haven’t slept together or anything yet. Things are just weird.”

They passed her one of their cigarettes, holding out their lighter for her to take, as they listened to her go on. As soon as she started, they couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, rolling their eyes in the most fond way possible. There was something about her that always seemed younger than she actually was, and it made them wonder how she had managed to keep that wide-eyed innocence despite everything. If it was anyone else, they might’ve guessed it was an act, but Mona was too earnest. She was just naturally like what they would imagine having a kid sister was like, no matter how old she was. “Mona, come on, toddlerface. There’s only one person in this club you could be talking about,” they said, shaking their head. But they kept listening, taking a long drag of their cigarette as they sat down on the edge of their bed. 

If they were going to have a heart to heart, they were going to get comfortable. The first thing discarded was the well-tailored suit jacket they prefer to wear on the nights they aren’t performing. Before they could get any further, though, they stop to look at her with something between sympathy and concern. It was a more complicated situation than they had thought. Just from being around, they knew that Babyface had been there most of his life, if not all of it, and they knew Mona’s mother had been a dancer, but they hadn’t put two and two together, too caught up in themself. They were silent for a second, straightening out their thoughts, before offering anything up.

“Ten years is a long time. It makes sense that things aren’t exactly the same anymore. I’m not the same person I was ten years ago, yet alone when I was thirteen. Hell, Babyface isn’t even the same as he was six months ago; I don’t even know him and that’s obvious. That boy was a mess before the fire. You can’t expect things not to be weird after being away for so long. You’ve both missed a lot of each others’ lives,” Sterling reasoned, leaning over to tap the ash off the end of their cigarette in the ashtray by their bed. “You have to give it time. Re-learn each other as you are now, acknowledge the changes, and accept them. Or not. Either way, you have to be patient... And, I mean, if you do want to sleep with him, he is a patron. And an easily seduced one, at that.”

[thesterlingmoran]

bharisinclair:

Every word that came from the dancer’s lips seemed to be a clue, filling in the many blanks in Bhari’s mind pertaining to this fantastical world he had only recently found himself in. This was especially so when those words pertained to Annette—or, as he recently learned, Netty. A newer girl. How new? he wondered.

It was plain to see how the dancer shifted their body to make their meeting more private from prying eyes, and Bhari was thankful, albeit confused. Such a small act, and yet it was most telling to the others’ demeanor. If only he could have gone back and time and kept his fist in his pocket, rather than at the others’ throat, this conversation could have happened under better circumstance. “I can imagine it’s no easy feat, performing like that, but you, err… You make it look effortless.” 

 “Sterling Moran,” he repeated, brows raised. “That’s a strong name.” A hand was extended to the dancer for a shake. “Bhari Sinclair, strictly off the stage.” The writer smiled, genuinely this time, as it felt nice making a friendly acquaintance out of such an awkward situation. “Why no stage name, Sterling? If I may ask, that is– I’m not well read on the etiquettes of show business, I’m afraid, though I’m beginning to think I should be.”

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you. Half of the illusion of effortlessness comes from the partner. She makes it easier than many of the other girls; I used to practice with her even before she was dancing on our stage,” they explain lightly, pausing to take another drink. Perhaps somewhere in the back of their mind, the reason they can’t leave the topic of Netty well enough alone is because they’re curious. They want to know why, exactly, this man reacted the way he had to the dance. Or perhaps some small part of it is guilt, perhaps they want him to read the rest of it between the lines of their words, to see it in their eyes. Guilt, guilt, guilt settled there in their chest, not even a sharp blow to the throat could distract from.

Still, he couldn’t have guess the confrontation was going to continue to this, friendly introductions over shared drinks, real smiles exchanged. Sterling laughs a little at the comment on their name, the memories it conjures up. Strong, excellent, intelligent, sterling. He doesn’t feel much of that just now, but the man’s, Bhari’s handshake almost feels like acknowledgement.

“Monsieur Sinclair, what a night to meet. Ah, well, Bhari would make for a beautiful stage name, if the urge ever strikes you,” they tease lightly. The slight that led to this meeting compels them to offer a bit more truth than they might’ve to other patrons. “Most do prefer the use of a stage name, to separate reality from fantasy. It was my stage name. It was given to me ten years ago, all the way back in America, when I first started. As soon as I was christened, I shed my given name like a snake sheds its skin, and found that Sterling fit much more comfortably. No one in Paris knows who I was in name before Sterling, because at this point I am Sterling.”