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Lovers were an extremely peculiar sight.

Among all, they acted the most unusual, the most different.

They were like children. Like younglings clinging inseparably to their mother… only except to each other. They were all like this. Perhaps that’s what made them interesting.

Adalia found them interesting.

There were so many of them. At night, in the blowing cold, she kept finding them, she kept watching them… and she kept learning from them.

Of course, she made sure to keep at bay, to remain unnoticed, and even within the expanse of the open city, weaving through bustling streets, she found herself not having to exert much effort to do so.

Unlike the provinces of Kronocia, nobody kept a wary eye to the presence of her among them. She had never been used to roaming out in plain sight, so being able to do so, to find a chance to step out the shadows of the pale moonlight, she felt… it was nice.

Here, in this plane of existence, everything was nice.

.....

Learning was nice.

So she continued to learn.

In her findings, skulking between corners, peering around the barks of tall trees, Adalia found a common pattern forming. These humans, these lovers… a majority of them… they wore a constant smile on their faces.

If they smiled, that meant they had to be happy. But every time she found another loving pair to follow, they too would be smiling just as prominently as the last.

Does that mean Lovers are always happy?

Amanda smiles a lot too… she noticed.

The Succubus, Irene, very rarely.

Ria’s smile used to seem so deliberate to her…

And Ash, she smiles… only when with Him.

He smiles too. Even when He’s exhausted, even when in extreme pain, or even when He isn’t particularly happy at the moment… He still smiles too.

Should she smile too?

Adalia recalled smiling, the sparse few times the urge took her. But it was not always, it was not as often as everyone else… that feeling did not come as easily for her as it does for others.

Yet a long time ago, longer than she cared or wished to remember… she vaguely recalled a time when it used to. But even so, they weren’t very happy times back then either.

Even benumbed to it, she knew it was strange. To know what happiness was, but not feel it. Adalia knew, presently, she was happy, but as much she pushed, her smile would not come, her lips stayed flat… her happiness refused to show.

And it was sad.

She knew it was sad.

But she couldn’t even feel that.

So, she kept walking, she kept following, watching… hoping that when the time comes when the happiness should come, when it would come her moment to be one of the many Lovers plowing and braving the snow in each other’s arms, maybe, just maybe… she would be able to show it to Him.

And then He’ll be happy.

She liked seeing Him happy.

Adalia moved on ahead, having spotted another pair wandering alone and together beneath the falling night sky, and followed them… somewhere.

He had asked her where she would be going, and she did not lie, for she herself did not know…

Indeed, she was heading somewhere.

In time, ‘somewhere’ had eventually led her traversing into the park. And here, it seemed, she discovered, something was happening.

Christmas trees similar to the one back home were lined in rows across the paved path. Closed stalls filled the open space, stretching as far as she could see. Decorations hung everywhere, merry bells tinkling with the breeze, colored lights blazing in a bright pulsing glow. Like home.

And like the convention.

She liked the convention. Overwhelming, exhausting as it was for her at times. The crowds, the noise. With Him, He had made it bearable… better…

The quiz game they played was fun too.

Perhaps there might be quizzes here they can enjoy together too.

When the time comes, yes… here, the park, seems like a good place to come to.

He might enjoy it here.

Maybe she can too. Like before.

After a while, Adalia decided she had seen, explored, learned enough… and slowly shuffling over to a barren meadow of snow, she began to prepare herself, collect herself.

It was time to practice for Christmas.

Adalia slowly streaked her hand across the empty air, like coursing her hand across the stillness of a river, and like water itself, the air in front of her began to ripple.

Illusions. Manifestations. A Matriarch’s innate specialty. To deceive or to lure their chosen victims as they so pleased.

And should they want to… they may even fool themselves.

Adalia weaved her arm again in the opposite direction.

The atmosphere was thickening, darkening, like a clouded dream in the midst of deep slumber, and before long, in the corner of her eyes, she was starting to see shapes, shadows lurking just barely out of sight.

She moved her arm again, and the shadows grew in prominence.

Eventually, in the distance, across from her, a shadow began to manifest, an ebbing flow of darkness taking shape, taking form.

Adalia blinked once.

The shadow became Him.

A shadowed replica, merely an illusion, nonexistent. Nevertheless, in His shape, in His image. It was still Him.

Close enough, she believed, at the very least.

Adalia quietly strode forward, and the shadow turned towards her.

She breathed.

Practice.

“Mer…ry… Christmas…” She tried to say smoothly, normally, happily. But she couldn’t.

Adalia tried again.

“Mer…ry… Christ…mas…”

Worse now. The shadow cocked His head.

She tried something else.

“I… love… you…” She said, then again. “I love… you…”

Her tone remained vapid. Her happiness stayed unspoken.

The shadow blinked, then in His distorted swirl of black, the shadow smiled His smile.

Adalia pounced upon the chance, and straining, tugging, she formed her lips into her best smile.

But it did not feel right either.

Frustration was only natural. But not even that would come to her.

Blinking blankly, Adalia reached for the shadow’s hand… carefully, gently… so as not to harm Him. That was most important, she must be gentle.

He is fragile. So, so fragile. She must be careful. She won’t hurt him ever again.

“Come…” She said to the shadow, tugging lightly. “Let us… walk… together…”

It’s what Lovers do. She saw them do it. She wanted to do it too. But her claws simply refused this expression of her affections too.

So she had to practice. For the slightest shift, the briefest drift of her focus, and so easily, she’ll hurt him again.

Never again.

“I… love you… I… love you…”

She repeated again and again, trying in vain to invoke the faintest of emotion, but nothing yet, not yet.

The shadow continued to smile all the while, almost as if cheering for her. His loving gazing peering at her through the murkiness of her spell.

“I… love…” Adalia trailed away, her misty eyes staring blankly at His swirl of expressions, before speaking again. “Say… you love me… too… please…”

Like echoes, like the hissing of wind through rustling leaves, His voice surfaced from everywhere.

“Do you even need to ask?” He said in his usual candour. “I love you, Adalia.”

That almost did it, almost stirred something stagnant deep inside of her. An urge, a feeling… with only one thing that kept it from fully surfacing.

.....

He wasn’t real.

Nevertheless, Adalia felt a twitch in the corner of her lips.

“I love… you too…” She said, very nearly happily. “Merry… Christmas…”

There was only one more thing left for her to practice.

Something else she noticed, that all lovers tend to do. Something that He had done to her too. Something she wanted to do more than any other.

Adalia lifted her feet, and slowly drifted herself closer towards the shadow. Inches away, closing her eyes, she pressed her lips against His…

And practiced.

It happened right then. Without warning, the shadow disappeared, unraveling back into nothingness… and when she opened her eyes, she was alone again.

Something was wrong.

Something did not feel right.

And she knew what it was.

The kiss.

It was a reminder, she remembered… she didn’t like remembering it…

Remembering him.

From the corner of her eyes, another shadow began to take shape, molding, forming, manifesting.

Adalia blinked again.

A different person stood in the distance. A different shadow.

Yet the smile was the same, the stare was the same… his love for her was the same.

This was not just an illusion. But a memory too.

Adalia watched as the shadow strolled toward her, hobbling hunched on frail, feeble footing supported by a cane in his right arm. She remembered he did not have a left.

The shadow was weaker, frailer, among the humans, he was the weakest she has ever laid her upon.

A being born lesser.

Just like her.

“Liamel…” She muttered vacantly. She remembered vaguely.

The shadow appeared delighted.

“So you do remember my name, after all,” a feeble voice sounded cheerily from everywhere around her. “One step closer everyday.”

“No…” Adalia said firmly, shuting her eyes closed. Tightly. “Not… anymore.”

She breathed, she concentrated, and with the sudden stillness to the air, the illusion was broken.

Adalia opened her eyes, and all was normal around her again.

The snow was falling, the moonlight was shining, in the far distance, the shimmering of colored lights brightened and dimmed like the faintest heartbeat… his heartbeat.

But no more.

For she had already made sure of that long before.

Sadness must be the emotion she should be feeling now having remembered him again.

How he spoke… how he looked… how he loved…

Liamel.

But for once, for this one instance… Adalia felt truly glad she couldn’t feel anything at all.

Blankly, she looked to her left, and spotted another loving pair together in each other’s arms… and promptly, she scurried along to follow in their footsteps.

It was apparent she still needed much practice… if she is to ever truly love Him.

And she will love Him…

No matter what.