Disclaimer: I do not own Moulin Rouge, if I did you would see a lot more of Nini and the Argentinean

"Get your 'ands off me!" I struggled in the writer's grip. He wasn't a strong man, but he was stronger than me and that's what mattered. I jerked one of my arms free and attempted to get a shot at his nose, but as I clenched my hand into a fist and drew back my arm a different hand clasped around my wrist.

The callouses on his hand give away his identity, it's the Argentinean, here to rescue me. His palm radiates heat, and in another split second, he wrapped an arm around my waist and warmed me down to my toes. He pulled me away from Christian and another man pulled Christian away from me. He held me tight, pressing his fingers into my body, and his face into my neck.

"CariƱo, he is not worth it."

It felt like all my bones were made of glass and they were all shattering at once, all of my strength rushed out of my body. If it weren't for his fierce grip I would have fallen to the floor. This would be the second time that I was saved by the Argentinean. Twice now I'd been protected by from the fists of an angry man.

This time was different, no fist had come pounding down on my body, changing the creamy flesh from pale to purple, no black eyes were left to blind me, and no blood dripped from my cheek or nose. This time I had averted the physical harm, but the mental harm was almost worse.

Before I expected nothing, but this time I knew how it felt to be beaten down, and how long a bruise could really last. The anticipation tormented me with as much force as the blows. But this should all be forgotten.

My breathing shallowed and I felt my lip quiver. Tears pricked my eyes, but I didn't dare let one slip free, I'd sooner have acid streaking down my face. A creature of the underworld should not feel. We are cynics and we cannot be hurt by the world around us anymore than a fly can hurt a giant. We get hurt, that's part of the game.

I took in a shaky breath as he released me, trying to gain back some of the strength that I'd lost. I was fine, I was going to be okay. The Argentinean turned to Christian and said with his haunting voice:

"Never fall in love with a women who sells herself, it always ends bad!" For you and the slut.

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