Adoration and the Second Opportunity NC-17

I apologize for however many posts it takes to put this one chapter up. I kept trying to post the whole like I did at POTO, but this site kept saying my post was too big... I couldn't find anywhere that said what a single post limit was... Sorry.

At Miss Fay's request, I have posted a story. Some of you maybe familiar with it, some may not. I had this posted on POTO.com for awhile, then I took it down. I have not re-edited this in anyway, this is the raw file I had on that site. I hope to get the other chapters up soon. Thanks for reading PS. This was suppose to be a one shot story originally.

Adoration and the Second Opportunity by Phantom EMT (NC-17)


His warm nude body silently breathed as sleep finally caught up with him. During the last hour, he had felt so many waves of pleasure. Starting slowly within his core, they magnified as he was able to release his masculine need. The woman who shared the moment with him, carelessly pretended to sleep after falsifying her passion again. Ever so quietly she sat up and turned to the man next to her. She loved him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Her heart broke knowing what her next actions would be.

”I’m sorry Raoul…”

During the last few months, Christine’s heart ached for the man who made her soul take flight. The lover her husband never knew she had. Raoul would have been furious if he knew what else happened while she was under Erik’s wings. It is not proper for a female to be taken by someone other than her husband. If anyone knew that said female had relations before wedlock, with another man, she would be looked at as a common whore.

Tears streamed down Christine’s face. She hated the fact that she caused more harm than good, for both Erik and Raoul. Still the choice had to be made; a life of having happiness handed to her, or giving someone the happiness and love they desperately needed. In her heart she knew no one else would see the man behind the mask, and they wouldn’t be able to see past the monster. Let alone, he wouldn’t dare let another near him, but her.

After getting silently dressed, Christine painstakingly left a letter to Raoul, trying to explain her actions. She knew he wouldn’t understand, and he would be heart broken. But she knew he would accept what she had written after awhile. In her mind Raoul was smart, intelligent, and dashingly handsome. She knew he would be able to find love again, he could charm any woman.

Pulling the cloak around her, Christine walked to their stables and jumped on her black mare, Onyx. Riding through the night, she arrived in Paris just before dusk.

Christine put Onyx in the now deserted Garnier stables. She made sure her horse had enough water and hay, and then took a deep breath as she entered the secret passages. This journey use to have a clear purpose, now it was a quest to the unknown.

Christine made her way down below. The lantern she was using gave off enough light for her to see a few feet in front of her. All of the lamps that Erik had lit before were diminished. She didn’t even know if he would still be down there. All of the letters she had sent him were not returned. That in itself gave her a bit of hope.

As she went through the winding tunnels, she wondered if she was making the right decision. Giving up everything a woman could ever dream about, for a life in darkness. Christine knew she would bring someone's darkness, some light, once she found Erik. Just maybe Erik could bring some radiance to her personal midnight.

Christine finally made it to the house on the lake. Lavishness had disappeared, and in its place was a despondency of ruins. The tears flowed from her eyes, seeing his sheet music scattered, and different masks, broken in pieces. His organ looked as if it hadn’t been played in ages. All of the candelabrums were knocked over, and pieces of shattered mirror were everywhere. She looked in the bedroom that was once hers, empty, but everything was still in its place. Slowly Christine made it to the door way of what was once Erik’s bedroom. Taking a deep breath she stepped into the room as the cold air brushed against her face.

Gone was the coffin, and in its place was a large bed. Christine could see a dark figure lying on top of the blankets and throws. Pausing for a moment, she could hear the figure breathing quietly. Those subtle sounds brought her a small relief. Looking around she saw wine bottles on the table, the corks beside them. Among them was a glass that had a clear white powdery liquid in it.

Setting the lantern down quietly on the table, she turned to the bed. Tip toeing she tried to hold back the anguish after seeing the evidence he was using to suppress his suffering. After a few moments, she was next to the bed. Tearfully putting her hand to her lips, she gazed down at Erik, in his black trousers and shirt. His home may have been disarray, but Erik obviously still kept himself bathed. Removing her black cloak, she placed it on the bed.

The moment Erik had seen Christine leave with Raoul; it sent his soul into a cold sad December state. The only woman who had ever cared about him, he had betrayed on every level. His life was of solitude, but after that moment it became clearer to him, he was to spend eternity in the hell he had created in his mind.

Watching her leave, the images of when he first saw her, all the way to that moment flashed in front of him. There would be no more music, no more sonatas’ she would sing, his life long musical opus was over. No longer did the master architect live, he had assassinated himself, in his mind.

Erik closed all of the entrances to his home, and lived as he felt he now deserved to. The months of heart ache plagued him, and soon his comfort was rare expensive wines, and the occasional cup of Morphine. When Nadir would bring Christine’s letters, he tried to read them, but he never could finish them. His heart and soul could not accept her kindness; he was no longer worthy to.

Erik turned toward Christine as he slept. The marred side of his face, rested almost peacefully on the pillows. Christine silently wept looking at his blond hair, and the clear side of his face. Never did she remember seeing him sleep so serenely. She didn’t know if she wanted to wake him, or continue to let him sleep. Gently Christine sat down next to his exposed chest that moved slightly with each passing breath. Putting a trembling hand to his face, she swallowed the hard lump in her throat.

Softly she caressed him, “Erik…” Christine tried to whisper. The moment her voice cracked, Erik slowly opened his eyes.

Still partially drunk, Erik’s eyes looked around. His heart stopped when he saw the outline of a woman with dark curly chestnut hair sitting beside him. Quickly sitting up he starred at the figure in the navy blue dress. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, he was in shock. It couldn’t, but could it be? His heart raced as he tried to decide if he should speak to the hallucination, and drive himself even further to madness. The more alcohol and drugs he took before sleeping, was a guaranteed dreamless sleep. Not this time.

His eyes watched her hand go to his face again. The moment her hand touched his skin, he put his hand over hers. His mind repeated over and over she wasn’t there. The tears welled in his eyes; there was no escaping the love he had for her. He knew he was either going to have to find stronger drugs, or kill himself, to flee the painful mirages.

Christine’s tear stained cheeks, carefully smiled. She watched Erik’s eyes move back and forth, as if trying to find an answer. With his hand over hers, brought a joy to her, that had been missing for a long time. She leaned closer to his face, and caressed the other side. Watching the tears fall from Erik’s eyes, started to pain her. Seeing his despair, her eyes looked at his lips. All she wanted was to rescue him, and put an end to their agony.

Christine gently kissed him. She backed away as Erik gasped. She closed her tearful eyes as he put his trembling hands to her face. It felt as if he was exploring her features to find realism in her presence.

The warm touch of her lips was too real to him. As his heart raced, it brought along sobriety as the toxins were chased away from his system.

Erik knew Christine was indeed there, in front of him, and had kissed him again. It was clear; her heart truly did love him all this time. It pained him knowing the life she was giving up, by being there. He knew eventually the Vicomte would come here searching for her, his heart would be as love sick as his had been. That would lead to her being displayed in public as a disgrace if her actions seeped out. Erik closed his eyes and shook his head. Knowing Christine had followed what was in her heart, he wasn’t going to have anyone attempt to dishonor her. His mind quickly came up with a plan. Still he desired answers, and now he was ready to hear her voice.

Erik took a deep breath and gazed into her eyes, “Elaborate as to why you are here,” he said with his voice trembling.

He still couldn’t believe he was seeing Christine in front of him, let alone he was now speaking to her.

Touching her face, he made sure every feature he had memorized before was still there. The last time he had seen her, was the first time he knew why he loved her. Christine had seen through everything, and found him; the man behind the mask and the man behind the monster. Erik, who had a heart larger than the universe, a heart that was opened, then shattered at once, by her. Her love had taught him a lesson, a lesson in which he would never love another again. Love made him see the mistakes he had made. He knew she didn’t mean to do those hurtful things; he had forgiven Christine long ago. Erik realized his actions caused the majority of her reactions.

Between breaths, Christine’s words slowly came out, “I couldn’t bare it any longer, the emptiness within me. That emptiness can only be replaced by you.” Bowing her head, she felt ashamed. She was asking him to remedy her pain, but what of the pain she had caused him? Shameful she was, for deceiving him.

The Christine that was alone with Erik was different than the one Raoul, and Paris society saw.

If she would have put her foot down with Raoul and everything that was proper, Erik might have known how much her heart truly loved him, and yearned to be forever his. Instead, leaving him, after a last kiss, leaving him with a ring, leaving and turning back to see him heart broken. This man, who had made wrong choices, was a product of society, but what society didn’t teach him, was love. The moment he knew what love really was, she left without as much as a goodbye. She tried to make up for those things, by her letters.

Now after all this time, “Erik, please forgive me, please.” She asked trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Erik wept hearing Christine, “I can forgive you, but I can’t forgive myself for what I bestowed upon you.” Pointing vehemently to himself, “I did wrong, not you, I!”

Erik watched Christine put her hands to her face. Crying he put his arms around her, and brought Christine close to him. Such a feeling came over him, to have her so near to his heart again.

His hands carefully felt how cold her skin was; he grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around the two of them. Erik knew his home wasn’t prepared for her. He had let this place become a tomb, in which he wished for death to take him every night.

When her body trembled, he could see the tiny bumps on her skin. Wrapping her up, Erik placed her beside him. Erik watched Christine give him a questioning look, “You need a fire,” he answered trying to keep his voice from breaking.

Christine watched as Erik knelt in front of the fire place. Seeing him wipe his face on his sleeve, to clear the tears, she wiped her own on the wool ornate blanket. This was the blanket they wrapped themselves in so long ago. The nights the two of them had spent alone, echoed in her mind.

Smiling she could hear his laughter as he told her the tales of his past. Some things frightened her; hearing he was to be murdered for his knowledge, and learning Nadir was the one who saved him. The stories about the assassin didn’t frighten her; they actually made her feel safe. It was his music, and knowing he had built this opera house and many structures, his intellect fascinated her. She saw Erik, the man, not Erik, the phantom. It hurt her knowing society had shunned someone, who could have taught them all so much.

Christine watched the flames illuminate Erik’s features. The arms that had held her and his beautiful eyes that adored her more than threatened her. She closed her eyes while remembering their first intimate embrace. Everything had been beautiful.

Erik noticed Christine’s eyes were closed. He couldn’t remember the last he saw anything more beautiful than her, on his bed, with a peaceful look upon her face. Erik felt as if a finger from heaven had touched his heart. Leaning close, he could see her cheeks were blushing, and a smile was developing.

He scratched his head and furrowed his brows while wondering what was going through her mind. Gently he sat down next to her. Erik watched Christine’s eyes open and carefully look at him. She tried to hide the smile on her face, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Smiling himself, Erik caressed the side of her face, “What thoughts bring crimson to your cheeks?”

His eyes scanned the exposed parts of her body. Her lips, her nape, and her soft breasts… Her eyes that showed the adoration he sorely missed. He wanted to touch her, but being in her presence at the moment was all he needed. The pain he had felt for so long was being replaced with joyful contentment. He would only touch her, if she wanted him to. He smiled at her waiting for her soft voice to reply.

Christine blushed, “I was reminiscing in some of our memories,” she replied quietly. The memories that passed through, felt as real as the nights they happened.

Her body was heated, and she was looking at the only man who had been able to bring her to the heights of true passion. The past few months with her husband, dulled her soul. Raoul could awaken her body, but he could never take her where Erik could. She knew it was because her heart was not in the right place.

Christine put her hands to Erik’s face and pulled his lips to hers. This trivial act awoke sensations within Erik that he had forgotten about.

Embracing her, he leaned Christine back carefully. As her legs parted, he gently rested between them. Their hands carelessly explored each other through the garments.

As Erik began to kiss her nape, Christine quickly undid the remaining buttons on his shirt, and unlaced her bodice. She wanted her skin, to feel his flesh.

Erik slightly moaned as his bare chest met hers.

Keeping the passionate kiss, they removed the last of their restrictions. They climbed under the blankets, and held each other for a few moments.

The adulation towards Christine showed in Erik’s silver blue eyes. His eyes closed as Christine’s fingers traced his face. Erik wanted to kiss and touch her, but his body waited for hers to beckon him. Christine put a gentle hand to his neck; her parched lips wanted to taste the nectar within Erik. A delicate and passionate kiss ensued.

Warmly embracing one another, Christine softly moaned as Erik’s arousal teased her. Feeling how close he was, stimulated her body even more. Erik’s head lowered to her nape, and a muffled groan tried to escape as Christine’s lower body provoked him in return. Erik began to savor to her nape, and her breasts, then taunting her aching passage again. Christine couldn’t handle the torment anymore, she pressed against him. The two of them pleasurably sighed as their bodies began to embrace each other.

The two of them glorified in the sensual ecstasy they were giving one another. Ecstasy that was over due, the fervor would slow as they maintained the perpetual bliss. Erik could hear and feel Christine’s body wanting to ascend to the most physically elegant heights. He gave her a deep soft pace that allowed him to soar with her. Christine’s body cooed as the waves of passion started, she gripped and held Erik close. Erik embraced her body as he felt the heat start in his core and work its way down. The vehement surge of tender gratification utterly engulfed the two of them.

Satisfied and exhausted, they laid in each others arms, and caressed one another. The power of touch, had spoken all the necessary words. Christine’s eyes gently closed as her head rested upon Erik’s chest. Erik continued to stroke her face softly, until he too, fell asleep.

The two of them had found what they both had desperately needed and richly desired. Neither of them would allow another barrier to interfere in their undying love. Even in sleep, their bodies would embrace one another.

Over the next hours, Erik would get up and pack all of his treasures in trunks.

Carefully he roused Christine and explained to her, they would be leaving. Christine got up and helped finalize the packing. She understood Raoul would come back there.

Before they knew it, the trunks and themselves, were at Nadir’s. Darius showed Christine to a room were she could rest a bit before a long journey. Before Darius left her presence, she asked him to retrieve, and care for Onyx. She smiled as he obliged.

While Christine rested, Erik explained he was going to take Christine to the America’s, and change their names, mainly Christine’s last name. He knew Raoul wouldn’t imagine looking for her there.

Nadir agreed with the plan, and offered assistance to leave and purchase tickets for them. Seeing his longtime friend, harmoniously happy again, he knew no one was going to demise that this time. Erik gave him a few instructions and thanked him.

Knowing what was ahead, Erik went into Christine’s room to sleep near her.

When nightfall approached, Erik and Christine headed to the pier. Erik graciously thanked Nadir and Darius again, and told them they would return to visit. Darius advised their luggage was onboard, and would be delivered to their state room. Erik looked at Christine; her hair was pulled back and shoved under a hat.

He laughed, “What a handsome fellow you are.” He knew there was a beautiful woman underneath the men’s clothing, and the realistic fake mustache.

Christine looked at Erik, black hair covered the blond, and on his face, the partial white mask. With pieces of the duplicate scattered in the lair, Raoul wouldn’t suspect Erik to have another. She watched his black cape swoosh in the wind. As Christine’s eyes met his, he was more handsome to her now than ever.

“Do not taunt me; I know who you really are.” Christine replied in a quiet sarcastic tone.

The four of them laughed. Erik knew again Christine was meant for him. What other female would dare hint at blackmailing him, and be able to get away with it?

Erik and Christine boarded the ocean liner. The moment Erik stepped on board; he used his voice of persuasion. Explaining he was a magician who just left a private masquerade party, and he was traveling with his mute assistant brother.

Erik demonstrated a small trick, with the rope, that was conveniently at his side. The steward was amused, and asked for their names. Erik replied, “Erik and C. Dyanisty.”

Christine grinned at Erik as they walked away. Once they entered their room, they remained there for the extent of the journey. Vowing to one another, they promised never to speak again of the painful things that transpired in their past. Reflection would be only on the good, and the wonderment of a future they were looking forward to.

Enjoyable indeed. I like the idea of this story and i'd like to see where it goes.
You may want to slow down a bit, it was really easy to just skim over the last bit of your first post. Overall, tres bonne!

Very good, I like how this is all happening,


Please post more soon, I can't wait for the rest of what s going to happen...



D

Reviewing for content only...great job! You've taken the idea and made it your own. You have a great talent. Please share more with us.

Very visual descriptions...you make the characters come to life.

Please continue.

Brava, brava, bravissimi!

Thank you everyone! I'm glad to be able to get back into the writing for an actual audience again. I've missed it sooo much. Plus it in a way forces me to write. Ha Ha

Devine, I apologize for the fast pace. Originally this was a one shot story. But with requests from readers for more, I decided to make it into a full story. Thank you for the comment!

Slytherliggie, thank you for the comment!

Miss Fay... Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas. Your eyes get to be sated by another work of literature by me. Thanks for being my P.I.T.A., and a big thorn in my side. I mean that with the utmost sincerity.

I'm off to check out Doctor Who, some Edward and Carlisle Cullen, and of course... Some Phantom. I'll post when I get a chance! Again, thanks for reading!

Yes, I'm adding an update to this. I know, I know... I hope this suffices. I'm pretty much copying and pasting it how it has been since I wrote it a longtime ago. And again, this one is just a hobby one and not my baby. Thanks for the patience :-)

PS. Fay, I'm really trying to work on the other story. But life's been kinda stressful. Well, you know that. Catcha laterz ;-)


Chapter 2


The lonely Vicomte’s hands trembled as the letter carelessly slipped from them. Floating back and forth, the letter gracefully fell, as Raoul’s hands went to his wet cheeks. How could she have done this to him? Leaving him, for Erik, after what all had transpired. It was clear in her personal letter to him, that she didn’t want him to follow, or try to save her. Christine made it clear, this was what she wanted, and that Erik had no knowledge of her intensions. Further more, he was to tell people he had found a letter stating she was in dire straits, and wanted the pain to end. Raoul picked up the second letter, and began reading it. Christine had left a suicide note, claiming she was taking her life in the vast wilderness that surrounded the estate. It stated she loved her husband but couldn’t live with herself anymore.

Before Christine left that night, she made sure to have Onyx leave tracks that led far from the main house. Then riding through the woods in circles, she dropped clothing she had torn, and a few locks of her hair. A few days prior, she had cut her finger, and squeezed the blood on the very lower sleeves of the articles, to give the idea she had slit her wrists, and then allowed more trickles on the rest. Her intent was to save Raoul from the ridicule of his wife leaving him for another man, and more acceptable was a wife who would kill herself out of personal misery.

Raoul stood up as the loud knock on the door grabbed his attention. He wiped his face, and put his personal letter in the drawer while keeping the suicide note in his hands. If anything he was going to find Christine, but he was going let her be in peace with the man her heart wept for. Swallowing hard, he went to the door. Before he had a chance to open the door, it opened on its own. Raoul stepped back as Henri, the head butler, burst in the room. Raoul looked at the man’s flushed face that grew pale instantly upon seeing him.

“Sir, you must see. The Countess …”

Raoul thought that Christine had returned, and pushed past Henri. He could hear Henri running behind, and yelling for him to go to the back of the home.

Raoul passed the staff that had gathered on terrace.
Cold wind blew against his face, as the tears started to fall. Clutching his hand to his breast, he felt Henri put a hand on his shoulder. Henri began telling him that Christine must have taken an early walk. Raoul put the suicide letter in his inner coat pocket. Then he leaned down and picked up the shredded sleeve of her gown. He began weeping while Henri explained she must have been attacked by the animals. Raoul wasn’t weeping over this death; his heart ached for the love that he had lost, but the love that still lived. Knowing they would find the hoof prints and see she hadn‘t taken a walk, Raoul pulled the letter from his coat upon standing. The wind blew the tears that were falling, and started to chap his face. Looking at Henri, he beckoned him to go inside.

Raoul handed him the letter, and requested that the police be notified, and to keep things as quite as possible. He declined an offer of food, and slowly went back to the bedroom. It seemed like forever trying to get back to the last place he had seen her. Around every corner, weeping staff met him with open arms.

Making it to the room, he grabbed the other letter. Raoul knew he was going to have to burn it, so no one could find it. He had to be rid of it, for her sake more than anything. Standing there, the pain he was feeling began overwhelming him… Raoul quickly tossed the letter in the fire as a knock came to his door. He was certain of one thing; Erik would take care of Christine as well as he had.

“I’ll respect your decision; I love you enough to do so.”

Telling the person to enter was a task. His voice was hoarse and his throat hurt. Raoul watched the inspector walk in. The part of playing a mourning husband was easy for Raoul. He was mourning a loss, but knowing this was what Christine in heart wanted he answered the inspector’s questions honestly. Raoul didn’t know his wife was thinking about that, and had no clue of those actions until that morning. While speaking with Raoul, and the staff, the inspector concluded that Christine had indeed, taken her own life, and left a husband with a broken heart.

A few weeks went by, and Raoul knew he was able to make the journey to Paris without anyone concerning his actions. Upon arriving in the town that at one time he took joy in, a hunt for Christine had begun.

Raoul found his way down to Erik’s lair using the Rue Scribe entrance. Being cautious, and remembering everything Christine had told him, Raoul found himself standing amongst ruins. There was hardly anything left that resembled what he had seen the last time he was there. A few candelabrums were left, and all the mirrors had been shattered. Raoul didn’t share the same feeling’s Christine had, when she first saw this place again. This was what he expected, but knew this happened before Christine had returned. Looking around he realized so many things were missing. Notably, the furniture and music sheets that once was strewn everywhere, was no longer in sight.

Slowly painful memories began playing over in his mind. He could see Erik crying while giving Christine the gold band, and pleading for her to leave. How Raoul wanted to be out of there upon that opportunity of the masked Phantom telling them they could leave of their own free will. Freewill, the word echoed in Raoul’s mind. He had more freewill than Erik had ever even tasted. But what had Erik tasted now? Was Erik sampling his wife, as he once had? Raoul almost violently shook his head at that thought. He didn’t want to consider that to be a fact. Looking down at the floor, the lamp lit up pieces of what looked like white alabaster. He kneeled down and picked up a fragment.

“Erik’s other mask…”

Raoul knew of only one other, the Don Juan mask. But that mask was found near the stage after Christine had removed it from Erik’s face.

“He has no mask? Has he gone without covering his face?”

The concept bewildered him. The man who never allowed a single person, except Christine to see him, was now allowing others to? Raoul looked around a bit more, searching for a clue Any clue. After awhile he found himself leaving, seeing that there wasn’t a trace left of Christine, let alone of Erik.

Raoul rode the streets of Paris thinking heavily of where Christine could have gone to. His heart had partially mended over the past weeks, and he learned to accept Christine’s wishes. Yet he still just wanted to see her, one last time, to know she was okay. In his heart, he knew she was, but he wanted to see it with his own eyes. Then he found himself riding down the streets as quickly as he could. The Persian would know where they were. Raoul knew there was no way Erik would leave Paris without speaking to Nadir.

After tying up the horse, Raoul began knocking endlessly on the wooden door. After what seemed like hours, which was only minutes, Darius answered. Gasping, Raoul begged to speak to Nadir. Looking up, he heard Nadir in the background. As Raoul tried to enter, Darius held him back.

“Where are they? You must tell me!” He shouted as his voice broke.

Nadir told Darius to allow Raoul to enter. Raoul started to look around, when Nadir told him what he was searching for, was not there. Nadir told Raoul to sit, and drink some tea, and they would talk. Raoul, didn’t care too much for the tea, but would drink it anyway, if he was to get information on where Erik and Christine had ventured to.

Sitting there Nadir, told him he was aware that Christine, had not killed herself, and had instructions for when Raoul would arrive. Which Nadir expected to be sooner than that moment. Nadir spoke the only information he was allowed to, but told Raoul, it was the only information he possessed.

Nadir explained that Christine was alright, and no harm would come to her. He explained that Erik would lay his life down, as Raoul would for her. Raoul interrupted and said he was fully aware of that, but wanted to know their exact location. Nadir told him he himself wasn’t privileged to that information. Nadir knew the whereabouts but didn’t know the exact location. The orders were, only to answer direct questions, nothing more. Nadir watched Raoul put his hands to his face as he began weeping.

“The sadness shall pass over him.”

Raoul knew this was all he was going to learn. The man in front of him was the only person who would know anything, but proved to know nothing. He looked up as Nadir told him it might be best to master acceptance, and seek a different future.

Sadly, Raoul knew this was the dead end he was dreading. Paris thought Christine was dead, and his sisters were pushing him to move on. The possibility of doing so crept into his mind slowly. Standing up he thanked Nadir for the tea, and the information, well the lack there of. Raoul knew he had to move on. There was no trace of Christine or Erik to lead him to their location. Knowing Erik, the two of them could be anywhere in the world, and deeply hidden. Upon leaving Nadir’s, Raoul’s thoughts were on how to begin again, when he felt his life was over.

Brava! Well done. I feel for poor unhappy Raoul. Christine needs to be slapped upside the head for hurting him like that.

Well done. Excellent storytelling! I have no suggestions, expect please write more. Don't take so long this time.

Brava, brava, bravissimi!

I remember reading this on POTO.com!

So, this is based off both the book and musical...?