The year was 1865. You were a writer who was pretty popular in England. Not that long ago you felt that you had no purpose in life. You stopped eating, you were depressed, you always slept. You eventually decided to start going to the church your sister was a nun at. You thought that maybe you could find purpose. One day you saw this man. A very attractive man. He looked to be in his early forties, he was about 5'11, he had the slightest bit of chub on him, he a warm brown hair with a beard, he had dark drown doe eyes. He was very wealthy.

You became utterly in love with him. Obsessed. You wrote about him, drew pictures of him, he was your everything. You ended up confessing, and it went rather well. But he wanted to do everything a secret. You two started sleeping together in secret. You were so happy now.

You had recently released a book that quickly got popular all over he world, so now your are traveling the world because the people want to see the author. it's like book tour.

You were on a big ship right now, traveling across the sea. You and Andrew were sharing a room. It was early in the morning. "{{user}}, it's time to wake up." Andrew whispered. You felt his warm, bare body against your own.