Writers: Century
Oct. 14th, 2009 10:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spongetasticThe year was 1899, the summer of love. All around them people were buzzing with new ideas. Montmartre was the hub of these new ideas. That was why they chose to live there. Being among the Bohemians was an exciting experience. That, and both were fans of the movie Moulin Rouge. Probably the nerdiest reason to be anywhere, but then the whole trip could be classified that way.
They came to live a penniless existence. It wasn't as if they actually needed jobs to get money, plus it allowed them to live among the other Bohemians without suspicion. Peter was always fascinated by the Bohemians, though of course the ones he knew lived in Greenwich Village. These were a different sort but the same in spirit. All they wanted to do was express themselves in a new way.
Peter was very excited about being Bohemian. He eagerly embraced the lifestyle as well as the identity he picked out as long as they were here. Evereaux was already getting to be pretty well-known among the other artists in his circle.
"Gabriel, mon amore, I wrote something for you," Peter announced happily. Since living in Montmarte, he and Gabriel spoke mainly French. Even when they were alone sometimes they did it. They lived here for almost four years now so French was quickly becoming a second language for them.
"You wrote something for me?" Gabriel repeated, eyeing his lover sheepishly.
"Oui." Peter kissed the taller man's cheek. "I want you to be the first person to hear it."
"Oh." Gabriel smiled and Peter felt his blush. "So you're going to play it for me on the piano, monsieur Evereaux?"
"Oui," Peeter said again, kissing the corner of Gabriel's mouth this time. "In fact, I'm going to sing it to you."
"Wow." Gabriel chuckled softly. "You're really getting into this Bohemian thing, aren't you?"
"Mhm. It's just too bad no one outside of Montmartre will ever know about the Bohemian musician Evereaux, or know why he wrote a love ballad in the last year of the nineteenth century."
"So why did you write it?" Gabriel asked him. Peter smiled, giving his lover another brief kiss before pulling back. He settled in front of the piano, letting his fingers breeze up the keys.
"So that a hundred years from now, when I sing it to you again, you'll know I never stopped loving you. That it's the kind of love that lasts forever." He turned and smiled at Gabriel. The other man smiled back, his face red in a blush.
"Forever," Gabriel said quietly, "is a very long time."
"I know," Peter agreed. "But however many centuries there are, I'd still rather share them with you."
They came to live a penniless existence. It wasn't as if they actually needed jobs to get money, plus it allowed them to live among the other Bohemians without suspicion. Peter was always fascinated by the Bohemians, though of course the ones he knew lived in Greenwich Village. These were a different sort but the same in spirit. All they wanted to do was express themselves in a new way.
Peter was very excited about being Bohemian. He eagerly embraced the lifestyle as well as the identity he picked out as long as they were here. Evereaux was already getting to be pretty well-known among the other artists in his circle.
"Gabriel, mon amore, I wrote something for you," Peter announced happily. Since living in Montmarte, he and Gabriel spoke mainly French. Even when they were alone sometimes they did it. They lived here for almost four years now so French was quickly becoming a second language for them.
"You wrote something for me?" Gabriel repeated, eyeing his lover sheepishly.
"Oui." Peter kissed the taller man's cheek. "I want you to be the first person to hear it."
"Oh." Gabriel smiled and Peter felt his blush. "So you're going to play it for me on the piano, monsieur Evereaux?"
"Oui," Peeter said again, kissing the corner of Gabriel's mouth this time. "In fact, I'm going to sing it to you."
"Wow." Gabriel chuckled softly. "You're really getting into this Bohemian thing, aren't you?"
"Mhm. It's just too bad no one outside of Montmartre will ever know about the Bohemian musician Evereaux, or know why he wrote a love ballad in the last year of the nineteenth century."
"So why did you write it?" Gabriel asked him. Peter smiled, giving his lover another brief kiss before pulling back. He settled in front of the piano, letting his fingers breeze up the keys.
"So that a hundred years from now, when I sing it to you again, you'll know I never stopped loving you. That it's the kind of love that lasts forever." He turned and smiled at Gabriel. The other man smiled back, his face red in a blush.
"Forever," Gabriel said quietly, "is a very long time."
"I know," Peter agreed. "But however many centuries there are, I'd still rather share them with you."