It was mid-January. The wind howled faintly against the glass windows, and snow drifted in slow, lazy waves across the world outside.
But in this place, none of that could be seen.
Here, inside a bedroom bathed in a soft golden glow, there was only warmth.
The wide windows stood open to a view of gentle greenery. A soft warm breeze drifted in, carrying the faint scent of fresh blossoms. The atmosphere felt cocooned and still, untouched by winter’s bite — a space set apart from the rest of the world.
At the center of the room sat a wide king-sized bed, its snow-white sheets slightly wrinkled from use. Reclining against a stack of pillows was a woman with light blonde hair cascading loosely around her shoulders. Her eyes — a clear, soft blue — were rimmed with the weariness of labor. Yet, in their depths, a quiet brilliance lingered, filled with tenderness, pride, and that glow that could only belong to a mother.
Cradled in her arms was a newborn baby, swaddled in pale ivory cloth, sleeping soundlessly. She nursed her with quiet care, not speaking — just gazing down with an expression so gentle it seemed to melt through time itself.
Suddenly, the door opened with a quiet click.
And there, in the doorway, stood a child no older than three or four.
His hair was messy, his clothes wrinkled, and faint scratches lined his cheeks and arms, hinting at some earlier scuffle. His appearance told silent stories about his wild nature — but in this moment, he was quiet. Strangely so.
He stepped forward with small, careful movements. Hesitant. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.
Elaine turned her head toward him. Her eyes softened, and a tired but warm smile touched her lips.
Even through her exhaustion, she raised one arm slightly, beckoning him in.
"Come here, sweetheart. Come say hi to your little sister."
The boy, Noel, didn’t reply. He stopped at the edge of the bed.
His gaze flicked briefly to his mother’s stomach, still rounded slightly. He’d seen it large for months. Now it was smaller... and there, in her arms, was something else.
Elaine raised an eyebrow at his reaction. There was something different in him today, and it caught her attention. She watched him with a tender gaze before chuckling softly and saying,
"It’s alright. You can come closer — she won’t bite, I promise."
At that, Noel shot her a glare, which only drew another amused chuckle from her.
But in the end, he did as he was told.
He climbed onto the bed.
His small knees sank into the mattress as he inched closer, step by step, until he stopped just beside them.
"Her name is Lilith. You will not be jealous of her, right?" Elaine asked suddenly.
And Noel simply shook his head.
His eyes were still locked on his baby sister. On Lilith.
Her breath was soft and shallow. Her tiny hands curled like little buds. Her eyelashes barely visible. A faint line of pale hair brushed her head.
Noel stared for a long moment.
And in his gray eyes, something seemed to stir.
Seemingly unaware of that, Elaine spoke again.
"Do you want to touch her hand? You can hold it if you’d like."
Noel shook his head once again—
Before, suddenly, his eyes lifted from Lilith to his mother, glowing with something deeper.
"I want to hold her," he said with his childish voice.
Elaine paused for a moment. The request had caught her slightly off guard.
Nonetheless, happy that her son had taken the initiative when she didn’t expect him to, she smiled softly and said.
"Alright, but you have to be careful, okay?"
Noel nodded eagerly as he extended his hands toward his mother.
And while Elaine passed Lilith to him, she still supported his hands herself, adjusting his posture.
"Support her head... yes, just like that."
Noel moved his hands stiffly as he carefully held Lilith. And it took time, listening to the instructions from his mother, until she finally let go of her hands supporting him.
Once everything was settled, silence descended in the room.
Elaine had her eyes on Noel, and he had his eyes on Lilith.
They were fixed on the tiny, soft baby in his arms.
When Lilith suddenly opened her crimson eyes — waking up — and stared at him quietly, something seemed to stir further inside him.
A feeling he hadn’t known before was slowly budding inside his chest.
His expression became unreadable.
It was neither childish... nor innocent.
They seemed to grow darkly.
His pupils pulsed faintly. Not in color... but in weight.
That’s when he suddenly looked at his mother and said with quiet certainty,
"Mom, little sister is mine."
Elaine blinked, taken aback.
"Yours?" she echoed, smiling faintly at first.
But when she met his eyes — truly looked into them — her smile began to fade.
She was someone who was sensitive to the feelings of others, and so, she could tell.
Raw, searing emotions seemed to be swirling there.
But what exactly was it?
Even she didn’t know.
No... did her son himself know what he was feeling and thinking in this moment?
That’s why, Elaine felt a flicker of worry in that moment.
Because even within the unstable Cross family — known for its aggressive tendencies — her son was something else entirely.
It wasn’t about being violent or destructive though.
It was something deeper... something neither she nor his father ever fully understood.
And now, it felt like that something had awakened further inside him.
As if, in this very moment, he had become complete. Utterly whole.
Noel had just claimed his sister — not out of impulse, but because something inside him had already accepted it as truth.
But Elaine couldn’t understand that.
After a long, quiet moment, she exhaled softly and reached out to stroke her son’s messy hair.
"Then protect her," she said gently, but firmly.
And Noel nodded, without hesitation.
Still staring down at the bundle in his arms.