𝙰 𝚑𝚘𝚊𝚡 𝚘𝚏 𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒂 & 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔

☆꧁𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥꧂✩

(🧸🎀The first song, Morricone - The falls particularly pertains to this chapter. Also, Tw: eating disorder.)

Chp.7

As the play begin, a few characters inaugurate onto the stage with a wardrobe of rococo influences. Rosalaine leaks no effort to divulge this to Louis, whom she assumes has been pilfered by an aristocrat in tedious converse. She rather sit there regarding a potent inability to focus enough to stand or walk properly now that she is aware; Louis is no fond of her like she is of him & therefore what reason is there for her to associate with him any longer? She fills with ecstasy when receiving even the slightest answer from his shell pink, heart lips. And yet, she must stomach this recognition for what it is truly. To the benefit of Louis, and herself. Calming her storm, Rosalaine has made a choice to go retrieve Louis from inside the grandeur palace. Though surprisingly, as she lifts from off her bottom and turns around to the way of the chateau, the Louis is there agape; bewitched in the splendor & lustrous beauty of the art executing ahead of him on that great, enormous stage. Filled with characters, All whom superbly express their individual roles. Rosalaine is beaming with tired eyes as she sees this; for when he smiles, she too finds herself doing the exact.
One final time, she walks by him hoping sanguinely that he may altogether embrace her at this moment of pure blithe. But, oh!—how she is woefully mistaken.

"Goodbye my dear, Louis."

—

The furtive Monica evades the guards through the unfiltered loyalty of her dependable compadres. She rejoices! She has made it!
Laurence stays behind despondent; he is not exempt to watch & be present at this very pivotal performance for Monica. This moment of hers, for her, that he has to miss. The ebullience of Monica that swoons him so much, he will be absent from seeing. He imagines her ardor smile as she accomplishes this step in her wild ambition, following , Laurence feels his heart race abnormally. He is annoyed and irate. Unexpectedly, Laurence senses the hand of his considerate best friend, Hans, on his shoulder. "Hurry & run your way to her. We do not need you here that bad." He grins an innocent grin. Laurence nods & without much hesitation at all, bolts into the bushes maneuvering his flesh all the way into where it is all happening. Just in exemplary time, Monica enters into a exquisite Grand Jete. Her leap is marvelous & flawless to the eyes, with exceptional flow & grace. Her form is splendid & firm. One can be convinced she is a witch, afloat from off the floor. The muscles of her legs flex firmly, and the toes of her feet point sharply as she gracefully hops and covers ground across the stage, her hands too wave about in an harmonious rhythm agreeing to the pattern of her other limbs. In front of a plethora of people, Monica optimistically embraces her beautiful style that borders on utter perfection with an High head, shoulders and arched back, and mostly potently  a bright smile.

Laurence, whose numbness tingles of astonishment, is notably proud of Monica already, & exalts her even more than before. "What will I do if I ever have to leave you?"

—

Louis's wide eyes vehemently scan the dancers on stage as a gleeful, pure kid who, for the first time, felt how it felt to be alive. The costumes so colorful and vibrant, pranced along the quick-moving bodies of the dancers making them all the more alluring. Such enthralling dramatics of expressions depicted by the actors makes Louis's heart flutter with an overwhelming excitement he knows not what to do with! Then, the fortuitous act of a girl frisk merrily with great frolic and controlled enthusiasm in each of her movements.
This sudden apogee in the play has profoundly galvanized & impressed Louis. A superior move executed so phenomenally deserves his soundless praise. This brown girl, Whom is she? To who's prince does she belong to? Louis studies the young lady studiously. Her brown face is comparable to the heavens; oh dear—stunning—she is. He is disturbed by such beauty—such beauty that has engulfed him entirely into its alluring nature. Her lips curve pink & plump. Her legs exceedingly thin but muscle remains, in the calves especially. The entirely of her, looks to be malnourished and very attenuate, quite peasant—like. A dancer that tells through their appearance of their profession proves great bias to Louis. Her breast are small from the size of the chest section of her busk, and her shoulders round with visible thick arms of strength. The hazel, wide eyes on her face curve a bit & when she smiles the puffiness of her eyes grow a bottom layer that does so too. She is a porcelain beauty & her existence lone is enchantingly unreal! Her nose is not slim or big but rather ordinarily sized. Her jaw is visibly structured into a v, but still young and cheeks full of fat. Her eyebrows thick of hair with a natural, perfect shape. Her height, petite & miniature.