This is something I wrote while being silly and all and I'm planning to post this in around 10 short instalments or less. Fantasy story, written in two POVs and has an ending which I'm not certain is a positive or a negative one. Hope you would enjoy it!


Disclaimer: The actors, to my utmost dismay, belong only to themselves. Neither do I know them, however much I wish I did. Freya Pamlet belongs to me though; she is an image of what I wish I am (but not). What a sad disclaimer.
The lyrics are from the song ‘To Where You Are’ by Josh Groban and are used mainly to aid in writing this short story. No profits earned from this, don’t sue.
This is a work of fiction and all similarities of the plot to their real life (except for the basic facts) are a case of coincidence - highly impossible it would happen anyway.
Don’t sue, I write for fun and am a poor lass. Donate through Paypal towards my purchase of ‘The Two Towers’ extended DVDs if you are nice.

Rating: R for language and possible reference to sex.

One



24 December 2004, Friday
8.44am


ORLANDO

“Fuck!” I swear under my breath as I round the corner on my motorbike and see traffic piling up at the hectic junction ahead. The journey to Georgina’s office is still half an hour away and I am already late.

“Georgina is going to have my head bitten off!” I grit my teeth grimly as I weave my way through the heavy traffic, ignoring the impatient horns and frustrated shouts of drivers. Today’s meeting is supposedly important as they will be finalizing the details for promoting my latest film “Kingdom of Heaven”, and Georgina, my manager, has been reminding me time and again for the past week not to be late.

“A hangover is not an excuse!” I can already hear Georgina’s sharp tone in my head and I wince, hoping that her husband had done something romantic for her the night before and help reduce the wrath to be executed upon me.

Still lost in thoughts and suffering slightly from the effects of a hangover, I reach the junction. Not noticing the traffic light changing, I charge across the pedestrian crossing, picking up speed along the way. That is the exact moment I see a little girl in front and try to swerve.

A split second later, I find myself thrown onto the hard ground and see my precious motorbike skidding on its side towards the walkway. Turning onto my back to face the sky, I am suddenly aware of white flakes falling on the visor. Stretching my trembling hand upwards with much difficulty, I watch on in amazement as the snowflakes fall softly onto my black gloves and disappear almost immediately.

The world has never looked as silent and beautiful as it appears to me now.

Feeling a sharp pain at the back of my head, I turn to see the little girl laying a few metres away and try to call out to her. My throat feels unusually dry and that is when I realize that my lungs are desperately sucking in air with much difficulties.

My eyelashes flutter helplessly and my mouth gapes desperately as the very last thing I remember before sinking into unconsciousness is the sight of a rapidly increasing pool of blood on the helmet visor…

Aaahh this is GOOD! Wow! I'm impressed!! I love the way you wrote, wheeeh!

^_^ That was funny :D

Please more! This is really awesome!

Intriguing...

and this was extremely magical...

really Christmas-ish!

Actually wrote this for the EWFN short story contest but nobody responded to my 'little blood and unconfirmed ending' so I didn't actually get around to posting this.

*mumblemumble* Sorry for making you guys go through the torture of reading my fic, heh... Thanks anyway, postiness tomorrow probably :)

Oh my god, this is amazing!

so sad and beautiful...

I wanna know how this will go on :)

hugs
Laila

Hey! That was good Peiyu!! I liked it! :yay:

Feeling like I'm on top of the world when I know some of you guys read this! *does a little jig*

Actually I wrote, but been busy recently to type them up RotK premiere in Wellington catching up, and Los Angeles in 2 days time... :whistling:

*mumblemumble*
Later!

Fanabulously good Peiyu
I think I have told you that before,
but I do love your writing!!!!!!!

Will you be writing more???
*hopes*

Peiyu, that was amazing. Really, you write beautifully.

:cry: this is my favorite part, my heart actually dropped when I read the part about his mouth gaping desperately.....

Wow. Brilliant...can't wait to read more of your stuff


Kimi

OMG!!!

:cry:

This is so tragically beautiful! :cry2: God...I can't believe how well you write, Peiyu...I'm actually there, in the moment. :yay: Amazing job here, hun.

About the premiere...can you imagine how much agony i'm going through here...:cry:...only a mere half hour away...and no ticket! I am so jealous of Jessicat (j-e-s-s-i-c-a)...she won a ticket! :eek:

*sigh* I really wanna go...:cry:

:blush:

Ahh er, thanks for the compliment. But going by me, the only good chapter is usually only the first heh! :lmao: Not belittling myself now, but I think I'm going to be editing the next part again and again to match :D

Will be typing it up later! Thanks for the comments people! Tell me what you dislike about the chapters and all ok?

I really like this fic!!!


It's beautiful written!!!

:D

Please keep going :D

luv :love:
Andie!

wow PP!
nice writing!

I am really impressed!

God... I am really curious to see what is going to happen next!
and if the little kid is going to be okay!


honestly! WOW!!!!!!
:yay: :yay:
that's two thumbs up from me!

OMG SHE DID?!?!? :eek: :cry: :cry2:

Thanks Andie and Soff :D

This chapter is actually only a third of the chapter I wrote on paper and I have no idea how I did it, but after editing and lengthening it, it turned out to be longer than the last chapter. :unsure:

I tried to finish editing the entire part I had on paper to post it today but I simply am not done yet and it's getting two pages on MSWord although I'm only halfway through. Oh well, hope you would enjoy this small part I finished from FREYA PAMLET's POV, more action (kind of) in the next chapter from her POV.

Comments, quotes, and any grammar/spelling mistakes you spotted pray tell, thanks! I'm getting rather bad at this...








Two



24 December 2004, Friday
8.45am


FREYA

“No!” I gasp as I sit up straight on the bed with a jerk. Christmas Eve holds some of the more unpleasant memories for me and I had to wake up to a nightmare this year. Hopefully better events are coming my way later today.

Ever since the break-up, I have kicked the habit of sleeping in because of the loneliness that accompanies lying solitarily in the large bed. I catch my breath, get out of bed slowly and stumble to the bathroom, unable to focus on recalling the contents of the nightmare.

Sighing, I step into the running bath and allow my mind to wander as I settle into the comfortably warm water. When the water runs over the sensitive skin just above my right breast and below my collarbone, memories of Orlando and I together surfaces unwillingly and harshly. He had always loved to kiss, tease and brand me on that spot.

Who can say for certain; maybe you’re still here
I feel you all around me; your memories so clear

I choke back a sob as a flood of memories of our two years of relationship overwhelms me. Our first encounter was exactly three years ago in a tiny smoky quiet pub where my friends and I were drinking ourselves silly. As I was staggering to the washroom, a rather tall and thin man in some silly bright shirt had bumped into me and spilled half a jug of beer over my new outfit. My first reaction was to scream and curse at him without a thought while hysterically wiping at my blouse fruitlessly, apparently that amused him.

“Sorry and thank you too. Nice bra by the way, do you need something to cover you up?” The man in front of me had a cheeky glint in his dark eyes and a huge grin on his rather angular face. I looked down to see that the white blouse I had on was clinging to my body uncomfortably and the skimpy lacy bra, my Christmas present from a girl friend, was prominently on display visibly despite the dim settings of the pub. Backing away, I was horrified at his audacity when he threw back his head and laughed merrily, attracting the attention of some shifty-looking characters.

Still grinning like a Cheshire cat, he handed his jacket over to me and introduced himself as “Orlando Bloom: women’s love, men’s bane”. At that time, I could only glare witheringly at him even as I breathed in his individualistically musky scent. It smelt of confidence and danger, and my instincts were telling me to get away immediately.

Guiding me back to my table with an arm around my shoulder despite my efforts to shake it off, he had patted me on the shoulder in good nature and treated me like some long-lost friend. Before long, our individual group of friends had come together and counted down to Christmas, much to my indignance. Why a wild group like them would be hanging around this tiny pub was beyond me, until I found out that the first “Lord of the Rings” movie had just been released and Orlando was enjoying a cosy night out with his friends without the cameras flashing in his face.

He had kissed me daringly, a stolen kiss on my lips after a toast at midnight and I had blushed like a virgin especially when the sides of our bodies touched in the crushing space. I shivered at the thought of how it would feel to be in his embrace.

Lawd!

Please girls stop this! I won't ever, ever get over Orlando Bloom this way!

Poor me! I adored this tiny chapter honey... you need to write more and post! I love how everyone is making Orlando really cheeky and so self confident!

This chapter rocks honey!

:yay:

True *sighs* very, very, true ...

LoL

:love: Andie!

Peiyu....I think this is a incredible good ff.....and I see a lot off potential in it!!
I am absolutly amazed by it and I cannot wait to read more,
so fascinating!!!
I don't think I have read something like this before, very original!!!

Thanks Ursi, Andie and Dany!!



I've actually edited some parts ever since you last read it so... heh!


*flattered Ursi likes Orlando in fic*
:cry: Touched.

Heh Andie, I was thinking men hate him lol!! Some, anyway, the rest harbour romantic thoughts *wink nudge*




I'd like to thank Dany who went through my chapters and told me what might not work in each chapter! Awesome 'beta-ing' done on the style ever since the first chapter which I originally wrote in a third-person POV. Thanks!! :yay:

Oh!!! this is the best!!!

I really like the way you wrote Orlando, very cute!! Keep up the great work and.... update!!! :yay:

Peiyu! I'm sorry I didn't read this earlier, I'm kinda lazy lately :blush:

Man, I agree with Ursi, you're just making Bloomitis worse!! And I've just finished watching PotC!! Not good...

Anyway, I'm intrigued to see how it all happened, for them to end up like that... Very intrigued...

If I don't reply to your next chapter, you already know why! :blush:
I luv ya still! :P

~fLower!

wow this story is sooooooo gd i cant believe ive never read ne of ure work till now. sigh ive really been missing out. Keep going peiyu this is really an amazing story

dude,
this is great!!
I like it so far!
I hope Orli is okay. :cry:
I really can't wait for more!!
^_^

Y do i have this horrible feeling he's not

Thanks surfingangel (sorry what's your name again? :blush: ), Flower, Annie (is that right?) and Lessy for the encouraging replies :D

This chapter is not going to be answering your question of whether Orlando is alright, but more a understanding chapter; their relationship and stuff like that. This story might not be where you think it might be going *evil cackles* so hope you'd like it eventually!

Here goes a rather long chapter, sorry to put you through this lol...:










Three



FREYA


Once the memories start to come back, nothing can stop them. Especially not when they carry such a beautiful meaning in my existence; especially not when they leave me broken and lost even a year on.

At the end of that party three years ago, I was hyper and communication was limited to giggling. Ready to go our separate ways in the early morning, I vaguely remembered kissing everyone on the lips loudly and briefly in my state of drunkenness; until it came to him. I lingered a second more on his lips before tearing myself from him, eyes still locked with his in what suddenly appeared to be a request; a request for more.

He licked his lips slowly and I shivered, tilting my head upwards and moving my lips unsteadily back towards his face, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth in an attempt to tease while controlling myself. Before I could pull away from him, he had responded hungrily and fervently; pulling my body to his, covering my mouth and eliciting moans, which I did not admit to later on, as he ran his hand impatiently across my back. Before I realized it, I was naked on his bed writhing and breathing unsteadily while he was above and inside me, thrusting and moving to a rhythm only our bodies were tuned to. Though drunken, I remembered it to be one of the most intimate dances I had ever shared with another man although it was easily out-matched by the other dances with him that followed.

When I woke up the next morning, he was gone, leaving breakfast on the table and a short note requesting me to stay until he was back. Rather uncomfortable with tarrying in the home of a man with whom I shared a one-night stand, I took off without touching anything, thinking I would probably never see him again.

Life did not go on as usual the next few days, especially not after friends enquired me about the man with whom I went home on Christmas Eve. They reprimanded me for leaving without a word, but I thought I should not have lingered; it was all but a one-night stand. I knew they were worried for me as I was not myself and most of them blamed it on the ‘Christmas Eve elf’, as they dubbed him. Something was simply missing from my life: a small singular piece of a gigantic jigsaw puzzle; something that makes the entire picture complete. Somehow, that thought led to many unwelcomed distractions; distractions in both my work and social life.

The next time we got in contact with each other was about a week later when he rang to invite me out to dinner. I was naturally stunned, feeling rather surprised at the efforts he made to look me up. According to him, he had gone back to the pub nightly to look for me with no luck, until he saw Melanie, a good friend of mine once.

I dropped off my nonchalant façade and negative impressions, which he had made with his audacious comment on my bra, before meeting him at a quiet high-class restaurant, and we actually got along well and enjoyed ourselves, chatting about our lives and random events. At one point, we were basking in the joy of a friendly debate about fame and how it changed him. To be honest, I was impressed with the way he modestly shrugged off the questions I threw at him and increasingly attracted to Orlando Bloom, the man behind the camera.

We ended up in my bed, sober. The other decision we made was to give us a chance to know each other better when we woke up the next morning. Our relationship was built on intimate lovemaking; and what we knew and understood of each other were communicated through the whispers and giggles afterwards; with the both of us cuddling and desiring more of each other, be it body or soul.

Deep in the stillness, I can hear you speak
You’re still an inspiration

We grew closer eventually, mentally and physically; lovemaking was still playing an important factor. We touched, fondled, kissed and hugged at every chance we got, neither of us able to get enough of the other. We felt so much for each other that we were able to read each other’s mind with just a sideway glance or a touch on the arm. Orlando was cheery, caring and attentive, tending to every need of mine, and I was content to just be in his arms, inhaling his musky scent and revelling in the moment as his fame grew and his job tore us apart for months each time. Despite the long periods of being apart, our relationship held strong and steady with arguments and bickering resolved in the end.

I had missed him on Christmas Eve, our official first anniversary, as he was away, buried under work commitments and unable to leave. We talked on the phone the entire night, an ocean apart, relishing whatever contacts we have with each other and speaking of ways to compensate the lost time we were apart.

It all changed a year and seven months into our relationship during the release of his summer blockbuster, “Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl”, when he turned sullen and blocked his emotions from me, and I found myself unable to communicate with him anymore. I still do not know the reason for the sudden change but I am guessing the fame had finally got to his head. It had disappointed me when I understood that the man I was with had turned into a ghost of the positive wild guy with whom I had fallen in love at the pub nearly two years ago.

We fought very intensely each time we met and though we eventually ended up in either one of our beds, it was more a desperate attempt on my part to try and find the old passionate Orlando, the one I loved and with whom I shared a mutual understanding. I was frequently left in bed alone the next morning with no notice of where he might be. I had to hold back tears with each mark he branded me roughly and unfeelingly, and each thrust he did brusquely and mercilessly, and I did not understand why I was still holding on when I was sinking faster than quicksand into depression.

Exactly a year ago on our second anniversary on Christmas Eve, at a party our friends had thrown for us, he told me we did not suit each other. The heartless glint in his eyes while a blonde model, with her legs up to her neck, hung onto his neck was unforgettable and the break-up was both a relief and an ache for me. The relief was from my release from the fairytale-turned-nightmare, while the ache was from the realization that the whispers of adoration in the middle of the night were probably all fake, churned out just to keep me to his bed as a prized possession although I still do not know what he sees in me in the first place. Maybe because I was the first woman to leave his bed and not vice versa, and he had felt a need to conquer me.

I am bitter, but I am unable to really hate him. To be able to love truly even once is enough for me. I have loved, it is now my turn to be loved truly and steadily by another person for life.



24 December 2004, Friday
9.30am

With a sigh, I step out of the bath, determined not to let those memories take over me anymore. The house seems so empty, quiet and lonely all of a sudden. I dress warmly, deciding to take a ride into town the whole day to avoid familiar faces who are most probably going to decide that I should not be wallowing in despair alone, and drag me to places I do not want to be in. Turning off my cell phone and leaving it on the bedside table to avoid said good friends, I pick up my keys and jog out of the front door, not noticing the phone by the shelves ringing as I squat down to pat a neighbour’s noisily barking dog on the walkway before getting into the car, nor the urgency in the frantic caller’s voice as the answering machine comes to life…

Be orlando please be orlando calling to try and make up for being a prick. but it wont be will it??

I think I have an idea of what's gonna happen...

Should I say...

orlando's gonna be 'dying' and he realizes he's still in love with her?

Amazing, Peiyu! I don't think I'll ever get over Orlando at this rate...:no:

Peiyu!!
This is too good!
No fair! <_<

^I know, that didn't make sense, let's try again...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
God, I love this!!
You're a great writer! :yay:
when you don't have writer's block :lalala:

:P

Great done, hun!
*Jack Sparrow comes in*
JS: Now, bring me that horizon new chappie

-----------------

ETA: Hey! My 100th post!! :D I'm a stable girl!! ....Um.. Is that a good thing?? :unsure:

:eek: Oh my God, Peiyu!! This is so beautiful! It's truly beautiful writing....but so sad... :cry:

:surrender: GUH! My stomach clenched at this..... :love:

Hmmm....no reason to be an ass....

TRULY being an ass...This was a brilliant line, that whole excert...you really captured how real and hurtfull that is.

very angry VERY angry at our beautiful Orli....he's not supposed to fall into that trap of turning his back on the people who love him once fame sets in. :no:

Oh please post more soon!!!!!!
:love: :love: :love:
Kimi

Have to agree with this comment

Thanks everyone, but this is going to be....... *evil cackles*

You guys probably would be taken by surprise in the next chapter, buwhahahaa!! I guess the thread name is not exactly what I had in mind. Close, but there're closer ones :pirate3:

Hope to be able to finish editing the next chapter soon, since I've already gotten it typed up somewhere...

Meh! I take it all back! I don't like "this" bloody @rsehol@ Orlando anymore!

*die! die! you senseless pr@ck!!!!*

@"£$&@!!!!!

I am still stuck in this bloody office of mine, and instead of giving me relief you all conjure up against me and display such a Royal dumb@ss????

Grrrrrr!

But yeah! Please, be it OB calling her and realizing how smart he has suddenly turned into!

Beautifully written, honey! Sheer poetry!

:yay:

I am still :PEF:

Peiyu i think u had better post that chappie soon. Ursi not liking mr bloom is very scary

*huggles Ursi* I read your LJ... Bloody work aye?


Anyway, Ursi and Annie, I have more up my sleeves ;)2 All MIGHT NOT what it seems to be.................... Poo, I'm giving away *something* :lalala: Maybe.

No need to keep thanking me girl!!
I love to beta this for you!
It's absolutly fabulous and I am the one who should feel priviliged!

You know how I feel about this chappie....absolutly breath takingly shocking brilliant!

Still think that.....even after reading it many times!
Damn you are getting better every time!!

Awww

Thanks hon!!
I really enjoyed and enjoy doing that!
It is really a pleasure......and I think you are doing an amazing job.
Such an amazing fic!

BRILLIANT!!!

ne chance of more??

Thanks Dana! Hey Annie, here's more! ;)2

Thanks to Dana (again) for going through all my chapters and pointing out mistakes and all! Girl, you rock! :yay:

Here's more prick Orlando... :love: I'm going to be writing a short of their break-up for the contest so bear with me if updates are slow :blush: Oh well, hope you would enjoy this...







Four



ORLANDO


Is this a dream?

I have no idea how I ended up in this queer place and what I am doing here. The space around me is completely white, from the floor to the walls and the endless-looking ceiling. It is so white that it can only be a figment of my imagination; maybe I hit my head too hard during the accident.

The accident! I do not feel pain on the back of my head now that I think of it. I look down to see myself in a coat splattered with blood that has dried. Along with the slightly torn black clothes I have on, I feel dirty in this abnormally chalk white room.

Moving forward, I catch sight of a bloke dressed in a milky white robe flipping through an old, enormous, thick brown book on a single stand. He seems engrossed in whatever he is reading and jumps when I clear my throat loudly and purposefully in an attempt to get attention.

“Ah, it sure took you long. By the way, you look terrible.” The man declares in a high-pitched edgy voice, studies me over the top of his glasses and begins flipping through the book; he definitely reminds me of my old school teacher, the one who never seems to get my name correct.

“Katherine Betty Jones, female, 8 years 69 days old on earth? Welcome to the Heavenly Angels Training Centre, best one on heaven.” The man beams proudly. “I’m Saint Peter, call me Sir if you please.” Saint Peter stands up without as much as a glance up from his book, “I am in charge of new recruits for the centre; job is quite a bummer really, since the new trainees do not come in on a regular basis. Oh well, if you would just follow me...” He smiles dryly as if tired of repeating this every time, and moves towards one of the many doors behind him while I can only stare at him in astonishment.

“Once you get through this door, your heart will stop beating in your body. You will be an angel in training for about one year; it all depends on your progress. I know of one who was in training for only a month and another who has been in it for a decade now.” Saint Peter sifts through the many holes in his robe, which I assume to be pockets, while rattling on. “Great job; you get holidays too, unlike mine, though not on the few days before and after Christmas.” Saint Peter holds up a key and opens the door while I blink rapidly, trying to absorb everything he said, stunned and unable to move.

“Come on now, we still need to get you cleaned up and a new robe fitted before the first lesson commences. Difficult to get the trainers in nowadays; they complain too much about workloads and trainees’ attitudes and punctuality.” Saint Peter shakes his head and taps his feet impatiently when he realizes I am not following.

I finally find my voice, “You mean I’m dead, and this is Heaven?!”

Saint Peter raises his eyebrows and considers me for a second before replying in a matter-of-factly tone. I guess he must have had several other souls asking him before me. “Technically, you are only half-dead at the moment; through the door and your body dies on earth.”

“So... I look like an eight year old female to you?” My eyes narrow and nostrils flare as the bloody duffer’s jaws drop, trying to absorb what I said. “Oh my God... Oops, pardon me,” Saint Peter vociferates as a rumble of thunder sounds in the distance in response. “I mean, goodness gracious me! Do you mean I have got the wrong person? You are not Katherine Betty Jones?” Saint Peter begins to panic and paces around the room flabbergasted, flapping his arms and widening his eyes. If it is not for the situation, I would have laughed out loud.

“Bring me back then, and claim Katherine Betty Jones.” I roll my eyes at the Saint’s foolishness and the obvious solution. “I don’t think I can... Can’t you just stay?” Saint Peter stops his pacing and looks at me hopefully.

“No way! Are you kidding me?” I holler and take a step forward, feeling an extreme urge to just stretch out my hands and strangle this strange irresponsible bloke. “I cannot possibly be an angel; I mean, look at me!” I pull up my shirt roughly and show him the sun tattoo on my stomach to make a point.

“We can remove them in a flash.” Saint Peter does not even appear interested at the tattoo and goes back to consult the book. I hope he is trying to find a way to bring me back and not a way to force me to stay and be an angel.

“We do not take souls by force,” Saint Peter looks straight into my eyes and I flinch. How the fuck did he know what I was thinking? Must not think more now, can not risk it.

“Then just bring me back!” I whine, hoping I am not letting loose of any random thoughts and babbles. I look down at the ground and focus on a random spot, feeling like plopping down on the spotless floor and trash my limbs around to convince the Saint that I am really just a childish idiot with no ounce of angel-like qualities in me.

It must be the piercing stare that dude is bestowing me with but I feel more uncomfortable with each passing second, that is, if they have time in this space. Hey, wait a minute, did I say ‘dude’? I must have hung around Elijah too much to have his American ways rub off me.

Hmm, I wonder what Elijah would do if he knows I am dead. Would his eyes go all teary and swollen like they did when Frodo was being threatened by Faramir in “The Two Towers”? Girls in pubs and the lads in general always wanted him to do a repeat performance but he always spoilt it by laughing eventually; bet he would not laugh this time. I hope he would not cry too much; his eyes never look too appealing whenever they are red and swollen.

What about my mother and Samantha? I promised to bring them to New Zealand; just the three of us for a week’s holiday after promotions for “Kingdom of Heaven” has come to an end. I was travelling far too much the past few years to sit down and enjoy family life, but Mum has never grumbled nor showed any displeasure. What would she do if I really die? I mean, she had to go through my father’s death twenty odd years ago, and now me...

And Freya... she would never know the reasons now. Come to think of it, maybe my death would be a good thing after all. I would not need to be constantly reminded of her every now and then; of the haunting look on her face when I told her we should simply call it quits. The rough angry sex was unnecessary and only deepened the wound I left in her heart.

I wish I know what she is doing now.

“Freya!” The old twit’s excited voice interrupts my thoughts. “What?” I look up from the ground to see the silly old Saint moving quickly towards the book again. His brows furrow together into a straight line as he flips through the book. Trailing his fingers across the page, he reads silently for a moment before looking up triumphantly.

“Interesting past with her; you hurt her badly, didn’t you?” Saint Peter walks up to me with a maniacal smile on his face. “There is something you can do to return to your body permanently until your time is up,” The appalling pause from the dreadful angel. I swear that if he does not continue, I would definitely strangle him to earth.

“And?” I clench my fists as he looks at me with a glint in his eyes which I am beginning to fear.

“Bring Freya Pamlet happiness before midnight strikes.”

:eek: :eek: :eek:

I think I need to re-read this chapter... I am not sure if I can still understand English... :eek: