The wisteria eyes, which I once thought were like the surface of a lake in midwinter, are now stained with the color of greed.
I genuinely hope so as I glimpse into the past that Mozart bears.
Charles: Ahaha, it's like magic.
Back when I lived in the yellow house in Arles, with Gauguin.
They came back from the dead just like Napoleon and the others!? In the blink of an eye, the long-awaited kiss ended quickly and was followed by a short, repeated peck on the lips.
It was unmistakably he who raised the curtain on the tragedy.
Your character and your talent.
They would never make you do something outside of your comfort zone.