We have been surpassing all rooms, and I still have no idea where he is taking me. I follow him quietly, staring at his enormous back. His muscle move in harmony together at every step he takes, and I cannot stop myself from admiring them.

I am still trembling about the fact he knew my parents. I knew they have always worked here for the Rockchild family, but I have never imagined he actually knew them. And most importantly, that he knows me. He said he sees a lot of them in me, but how can he say that if he doesn't know me personally?

There are so many questions I want to ask him. So far, i just need to wait and see where we are heading to.

"We're almost there." His voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Where are we going exactly?" I ask, as we take some stairs I have never seen that lead upstairs. I never noticed there is another floor. This Palace is an endless and mysterious maze.

"Patience."

I hold my thoughts, and I shut myself impatiently.

After what seemed thousands of stairs, we finally arrive at the end of them, and a big old wooden door shows up right in front of the stairs.

This is the floor, A door?

He takes a key from his packet, for then inserting it in, and the door starts opening automatically. An old books smell get to my naris, and i start coughing. "Nobody has visited this place for a while. You may excuse the fragrance."

Despite the old and closed air, there is nothing out of place. I can glimpse from the little window at the top, some paper documents and, mostly, photographs all over the place. I take some steps closer to analyse the room, and everything starts forming itself more clearly.

Long wooden shelves are filled by black and white and coloured photographs, embodied in golden cover. I try to recognise some faces, but there are hundreds of them which i have never seen before. "What is this place?" I ask, even though i already know the answer.

"The room where all my memories are collected, and kept to life." He explains with a low voice.

"May I know why you brought me here?"

He takes some steps close to one shelf, staring at a big frame. He takes it by his hands, and gives it to me. "Here it is your Christmas wish."

As my eyes pose upon the faces depicted on it, I start trembling. I remove the dirt from the frame cover to see better the faces, and there they are.

My parents.

I glimpse my beautiful mother, smiling at me with her arms around my father's neck. And my father, kissing my mother's forehead and hugging her tightly from the hips. As I pose my eyes back to my mother, I notice she is wearing the red dress she left me. The red dress I am wearing right now.

Tears fall on the frame. In total sorrow, I let my body fall in the ground, still holding tightly the frame to my chest. Loud sobs start to come out from my mouth, and I cover it right away not to be heard by him.

But how can he not. He is standing right here.

Suddenly, two hands take me from my hips and drag me up. I turn around for meeting his now lighten eyes staring at me. I notice a slide of lucidness in them, but I know it will not last for long.

"I-I'm-" I try talking, but the sobs don't allow me, "I'm s-sorry."

"Do not apologize for missing your beloved ones."He affirms at my ear.

His words seemed full with understanding, as if he has already experienced this feeling. But his parents are still alive, who may have lost?

"Have you ever felt so much pain?" I ask, with my tears falling down my cheeks like waterfalls.

He takes a step back, as if my question took him off guard. Deep in thought, he takes some time before answering. "I felt more than you could bear."

With his jaw tight and his dark eyes on the floor, I can glimpse anger coming out of his tense muscles. Copying his gesture, I place my left hand on his arm, still keeping the frame with the right hand on my chest. Surprised and disgusted by my action, he shoos away my hand and takes a step back.

"Don't you dare doing that again." He whispers with his teeth tighten. His black lines pop out intensively, his eyes widen horrified by me, and his jaw muscles is so tighten it is about to explode.

"I-I apologise. I didn't think-"

"That's the problem. You never think! All you do is acting impulsively, just like your father."

"What did you just say?" I whisper, shocked. He keeps the same look on me, without moving a flinch. There is no sense of regret, nor sadness of what his mouth pronounced.

"You heard me clear and sound." He takes a closer step forward me, "both of you like to get in trouble, trying to be the heroes of this place," he smirks before continuing, "trying to rebel against the system, against the rules, against me!" I hit the handrobe as I jump back, frightened.

I try to keep my tears, not to show him my emotional weaknesses again. As I press tight the frame to my chest, I can feel it as a shield that protects me from him. Rage starts to replace fear, and courage fills my blood.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I take some front steps as anger increases in my chest. "How dare you pronouncing those lies and mad words about my father. how dare you talking to me like that! You know nothing about their sacrifices to give me a roof, to provide me clothes and food, and the right education. You stand here, splitting words about pain and strengths while you were born with everything every child would ask for!"

"Except one thing", I conclude, "love".

His face falls down. His unemotional mask rips apart.

Without looking at me, he falls down on the chair next to him, as if my words have hit him on his chest, and couldn't keep the balance on his feet no more. His breathing becomes rapid and loud. With his hands, he starts massaging his chest, pressing on his left side where the heart belongs.

As I notice some trembling on his body, I get closer. "Are you okay?" I ask, worried.

He doesn't answer to me, but keeps pressing his shaken hands on his chest, as to stop the pain. Slowly, he rises his head up and I can notice suffering in his eyes.

"What's going on?" I ask, again. He keeps staring at me with his mouth tighten in pain.

"C-come here." He utters too low for me to believe what he said. Seeing me still petrified, he takes one hand off his chest and takes my cold one, forcing me to walk towards his body.

With his breathing still agitated, he places my hand on his chest and a sigh of relief gets out of his mouth. My fingers move on his pale and cold skin, and my body is full on shivers. "James.."

He massages my hand as his heart beat slows down and his muscles relax. "I apologise for ruining your Christmas".

I gasp at his words and touch. Minutes ago he was splitting poisoning words to be, and now he apologises. I will never be able to decipher him.

"It has been ruined since the day they died." I say, out of control.

As he throws me against his body, my blood stops circulating. There is no inch between us. Our robes are pressed tightly against each other and I can feel his soft breath on my ear as he lays down his head on my right shoulder.

"Allow me to fix that."

"How, huh?" I split out. "How can you do that if I have no clue who I stand in front of? How can I let you in if I am scared of you?" I finally cry out.

He stares at me in shock and sadness as my words hit him, again. Whatever is happening to me, I am proud of myself for spelling the words I have kept locked in me for a long time.

"Who are you?"

After a hard swallow, he replies, "You wouldn't want to know."

With that, he flashes out the room.