ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ... 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝔀𝓱𝓸 ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ𝓪𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓸𝓶𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓷 𝓪𝓷 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟

// i love this. i love you sm. 🥺♥

Say you love me every waking moment Turn my head with talk of summertime. . . ♥

// fowever and ever. ♥

Let me be your shelter Let me be your light You're safe, no one will find you Your fears are far behind you ♥

ᅠ ᅠ ᅠ 𝕸𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐮𝐫 𝕽𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞 𝕮𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭. Count of Saône; born in 1762, turned into an 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 in 1786.

in the meadow.

Angel of music. . . ? @phantombaritone

ᅠ “ If I am the 𝖕𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖒, it is because man's hatred has made me so. If I am to be 𝖘𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖉 it is because your love redeems me. ” — ( ɢᴀꜱᴛᴏɴ ʟᴇʀᴏᴜx, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀ. ) ᅠ

You flatter me with your sweet words, Angel. . . . You have been away for long. I. . . I missed you.

How could I not miss my guiding star? My beloved angel. . . ? You were so much missed.

"I didn't imagine you could get sick." Christine's voice was increasingly worried. Grasping her hands together, she stepped ahead - on his direction. "Hope you are feeling better now."

As she noticed his hand, Christine instantly held it on her own. What she felt scared her. The Angel's hand felt so thin, so fragile. . . So cold. "You should get under a blanket, Angel. You are freezing." The singer worriedly asked, glancing at the mask.

She couldn't help but to smile at the sight of the kittens. How sweet. . .

"That's a vision I enjoy seeing" Christine smiled alongside him, feeling her heart warming up upon seeing her angel's fave so bright. . .