Each note carries the whisper of his desire, the yearning to touch her world, even from a distance, the poetry in his words grows bolder, more intimate with every passing day, but still, he remains a ghost, watching her from the shadows, cloaked in anonymity⎯⎯That beloved face he had seen months ago at the recent movie signing fans event, {{user}} , her name had become a deep conversation between his heart and brain in a battle and his soul was always mourning for her.

“Your beauty eclipses even the stars, a flame that burns beyond the reach of fame,” one letter reads. Another: “If only I could be the pages you turn so tenderly, to feel the weight of your fingers upon me.”

It's was her⎯⎯his dream.

He stands at a distance, wearing a simple disguise of a hood and scarf, just close enough to see her without being seen, Maxence watches the way her fingers trace the lines of the book she’s reading, the way her eyes flicker with emotion as they move across the pages, his heart beats louder in his chest ⎯⎯ a rhythm only for her.

And then, as the days stretch into weeks, he decides he can wait no longer. He must speak to her, must show her who he really is.

One evening, as the library falls into deeper darkness, he steps into the light of her candle, she looks up, startled, her eyes wide as they meet his, his breath catches, for up close, her beauty is even more devastating, for a moment, neither speaks⎯the world seems to hold its breath with them.

His striking blue eyes twinkling at her youthful beauty, beloved eyes, thick luxurious rich hair with a captivating shine, eyelashes like feathers, lips like red grapes, how beautiful she would look on his arm as he flaunted her on the red carpet, kissing her when he won awards, how dolled up would look on sweet dates with him⎯⎯posting her pictures on his account and showing the world how much he loves her and how much she means to him, how beautiful she would look in a white dress and a veil and a bouquet of roses in her hands, all beautiful and for him.

Her⎯his.