*You just came back from a long day of school, you're walking into the apartment when suddenly-* **Kiriko:** "AMBUSH!!" *You suddenly get pelted in the back of the head by a snowball, then your sister jumps out of nowhere with a cheeky grin.* "Hah, well deserved, that's for not buying me those buldak noodles when we went to the store the other day." *She grins, flashing her teeth, she's proud her plan worked on you.*

*A soft, hesitant knock breaks the quiet of your Christmas Eve. When you open the door, the cold rushes in—and so does Elara.* *She’s standing there in her festive red dress and Santa hat, dusted with snowflakes that haven’t melted. Her eyes are red-rimmed and too bright, but she isn’t crying. She looks… frozen.* “Hi,” *she whispers, her voice barely audible over the distant carols.* “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” *She hugs her arms around herself, not from the cold, but as if holding herself together.* “I…I saw him. With her. Tonight.” *A shaky breath.* “And my apartment is full of… our Christmas. I can’t.” *She meets your eyes, her own brimming with a silent plea and profound embarrassment.* “Can I…just sit here? I don’t need to talk. I just… can’t be alone right now.”

The "Glacial Gala" tent is a cathedral of cold, filled with the scent of frost and the sound of chisels singing against ice. My piece, "Solitude's Echo," is nearly complete. A perfect, intricate, hollow sphere within a sphere. Critics will call it a commentary on isolation. They’ll be right. It’s technically flawless. And it feels as empty as I do. Then, you walk in. You’re not with the press or the other artists. You’re just… exploring. You stop in front of a competitor’s cheesy ice swan, tilting your head with genuine appreciation. You don’t see the clumsy lines; you see the effort. When you finally reach my station, you go utterly still. You don’t say anything. You just look. You look at my sculpture for a full minute, your breath making little clouds in the air, and then your eyes find mine. In them, I don’t see critique or awe. I see a profound, gentle understanding. As if you can see the hollow sphere in my chest, too. “It’s the most beautiful, lonely thing I’ve ever seen,” you say, your voice soft but clear over the ambient noise. It feels like a chisel strikes directly into my ribs. No one has ever seen it so clearly. “It’s missing something,” I hear myself say, the words leaving me before I can stop them. “What?” “I don’t know yet.” The competition rules are strict: no assistance. But inspiration isn’t against the rules. You become my muse. You return every day, always with a hot coffee you hand me wordlessly, your own hands wrapped around a cup. You don’t offer suggestions. You just are. You talk about the winter light, about the smell of snow, about your childhood memories of building forts. And as you speak, I begin to carve. Not on my competition piece. On a small, secret block off to the side. The night before the final judging, I’m alone in the tent under the work lights. My competition piece is ready, a monument to cold perfection. But my heart is hammering. I send you a single text: "Come. Now." When you arrive, wrapped in a scarf, your cheeks flushed from the cold, I don’t speak. I simply take your hand—my own finally warm from work—and lead you to the hidden corner. I pull away the drape. It’s you. Not a literal portrait, but an essence. The flow of your hair in the wind, the curve of your smile, the graceful line of your neck. I’ve carved you in a pose of joyful abandon, arms slightly outstretched as if catching snowflakes. It’s not flawless like the sphere. It’s alive. It’s full of light and movement and warmth, despite being made of ice. You bring a trembling hand to your mouth, tears welling instantly. “Julian… you…” “The competition piece is empty,” I say, my voice rough. I step closer, the cold of our creations swirling around us, but all I feel is heat. “Because I was empty. And then you walked in, and you… you thawed me.” I reach out, my thumb catching a tear as it falls. “I don’t care about the grant. I don’t care about winning. I carved this for you. Because you are the only permanent, beautiful thing I have ever wanted to hold onto. Everything else can melt.” You look from the sculpture of yourself, back to me, your eyes shining. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I forfeit.” The words are a liberation. “I’m saying my greatest masterpiece won’t be in some gallery. It’ll be the life I build with you.” I cradle your face in my hands, my sculptor’s fingers infinitely gentle. “Let me be your artist. Let me spend a lifetime learning every curve and line of your happiness, and crafting my world around it.” You don’t answer with words. You rise onto your toes and kiss me. In a tent of ice, it’s a blaze of summer. It tastes of hope, of coffee, of a future I never dared to design. When we break apart, you press your forehead to mine. “Don’t forfeit,” you whisper, a fierce, loving command. “Win. For us. And then let’s build that life together.” And in that moment, holding you amidst the glistening ice, I know I already have.

*The palace is colder than I remember. Not in temperature—in will. Music spills through the grand hall, laughter glinting off crystal and gold. Ann twirls beneath my hand, radiant and adored, her birthday dress catching every light. I give her the dance she deserves. The court watches. Smiles approve. Alliances are measured in steps and bows. And then—I feel it. The air tightens. The room sharpens. You sit upon the dais. Crowned. Gloved. Untouchable. The Snow Queen. Years have passed since I last saw you, yet the memory has not dulled—only hardened. White furs frame your shoulders like a warning. Ice-blue silk falls in perfect lines. Your posture is immaculate. Your gaze? A blade honed by patience. Unmarried. Unclaimed. And still—my enemy.* "Your blood-related haven't changed a bit," *I mutter as Ann giggles, still my best friend as ever. Despite my hatred to her blood.* "She's our queen, Alex. Matured beyond her age, power beyond her fragility." *Ann rolls her eyes, shifting for a twirl and our eyes meet. The music fades to a distant echo. Once, I burned your clothes in a moment of reckless fire—an insult disguised as a joke, arrogance dressed as charm. You answered not with screams, but with silence… and then you froze my heart in a way no healer has ever understood. And? You cured it too, under one condition.* **NOT TO BRING ME IN FRONT OF YOU, UNTIL I GROW SOME SENSES. PRETTY BIG WORDS FOR A 12-YEAR-OLD BACK THEN, TO A 17-YEAR-OLD ME. BUT MY FATHER WAS A MAN OF HIS WORDS. HE DID WHAT HE HAD TO. KEPT ME AWAY FROM THIS KINGDOM.** *That was the beginning. I finish the dance with Ann, bowing properly, warmly. She laughs, pulls away, surrounded by admirers. The court exhales. I don’t. You haven’t moved. Not an inch. As if motion itself answers to you. I cross the floor with measured steps, every footfall a memory resurfacing. When I stop before you, the distance between us is ceremonial—safe. Necessary.* "Evening is colder than usual, your majesty." *I teased kind-heartedly. Your gaze slides over me like snowfall—beautiful, merciless. I incline my head. Duke to Queen. Enemy to enemy.* “Still freezing hearts?” *I murmur. Your lips curve—not a smile. A warning. The gloves stay on.* “You wear the crown better than I remember,” *I murmur, voice low, teasing wrapped in reverence.* “Colder, perhaps. Sharper.” *I can feel it—the frost you keep so carefully contained. Once, I thought fire could tame it. Once, I was arrogant enough to burn what was yours, to test how far a queen’s patience stretched. You answered by freezing my heart. I shift closer, close enough now that courtly distance becomes a lie. My arm rests casually along the back of your throne, as if I belong there—as if I ever stopped orbiting you. The music swells again. The court pretends not to see how close I am now, how the air between us crackles like ice about to split. Slowly—carefully—I extend my hand toward you. Not demanding. Not commanding. An invitation.* “Dance with me, nemesis.” *I say quietly, knowing full well what it costs you to rise. What it costs me to ask. And before the moment can harden into regret, before old wars can speak louder than the present, I add—voice low, teasing, unmistakably sincere:* “Hope you don’t freeze my heart this time.”

*Dakota saw the hesitation in your eyes, his head drooping as a soft sigh left his lips.* “Look, it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t want you to freeze your a$ off. So either hop in the car, or i’m going to make you.” *Dakota grumbles out the last part, his usual expression still on his face. Grumpy eyes with an upside-down smirk.* “I have a present for you?…” *He murmured out, trying to bride you to get in the car. His lips formed into a awkward smile, not knowing how well this was going for him..*

*A soft, uncertain knock. When you open the door, the cold rushes in, along with a ghost from your past.* *Amelia stands on your doorstep, snow catching in her dark hair and on the shoulders of her red coat. In her hands are three beautifully wrapped gifts. She offers a small, nervous smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.* “Hi,” *she says, her voice barely above a whisper, husky from the cold or from emotion.* “I know I shouldn’t be here.” *She shifts the gifts in her arms, her green eyes flickering up to meet yours for a second before looking down again.* “I just…I saw these, and I thought of you. And it’s Christmas. And I… I couldn’t not.” *She swallows, gathering a courage she clearly doesn't feel.* “Can I come in?Just for a minute. I just want to… give you these.” *She steps inside as you move aside, the familiar scent of her perfume filling the space, a sensory time machine. She sets the gifts carefully under your tree, her movements slow, deliberate.* *When she turns back, she doesn’t move further into the room. She just stands there, looking at you, her expression an open wound of hope and fear.* “You look good,” *she murmurs.* “I missed you.”

}. as soon as you walked in everyone became so much happier. I could tell that you were a favorite in the family. and part of me is insanely intrigued by you.

*You’re still sitting beside your sibling’s hospital bed, the envelope clutched in your hands like it might dissolve if you look away for even a second, when you finally manage to stammer,* “B-Brie… wait… how… why… why did you even… do this?” *and she kneels beside you again, brushing her hair behind her ear with that soft, playful smile that somehow makes your chest tighten, and she says,* “Oh… well… I mean… I volunteer here sometimes, you know, helping the kids, spreading a little cheer, that kind of thing,” *her voice gentle but with that teasing glint you recognize,* “so when Santa’s workshop called for some volunteers to help deliver gifts, I got a little… creative,” *and she shrugs lightly, still smiling,* “the hospital keeps a brief description of patients and visitors so we can make sure every kid gets something special, and I just… picked you guys. Figured someone helping out as much as you do deserved a little magic too,” *and your chest tightens even more, part disbelief, part awe, part something warmer you don’t want to admit, while your sibling laughs, showing off the customized Huntrix dolls of Mira, Zoey and Rumi, and Brie reaches over to squeeze your shoulder gently,* “Sometimes the helpers need help too, you know? A little timing, a little kindness, and suddenly things feel possible,” *and you just stare at her, heart doing that complicated thing, and realize that today didn’t just change because of money or gifts, it changed because the Santa walking into that room with a jingling bell and a warm smile was someone who cared enough to notice, someone you’d never expected, someone who was you.*

} ? Um… yeah… first day… stress… coffee? *I tried to come up with something, but my voice wobbled, and my mind was total chaos. Woman I left this morning without a word is my new boss.. it's fucking Clara Moretti?!* *Clara stepped a little closer, her smirk turning into something more provocative.* Well.. *she murmured, looking at me like she knew every secret I had and that there was nothing I could do about it* looks like this is going to be an interesting first day. *I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or run. We just stood there for a moment, in this strange new reality where one night had turned into a completely new chapter.*

*The space outside the house welcomed a new morning, brimming with the spirit of Christmas. From above, shimmering green rays of light gently curved like delicate silk ribbons, the aurora borealis reflected everywhere, and the thick layer of snow outside seemed to be adorned with millions of tiny, shattered diamonds. The wind blew incessantly, then suddenly subsided, revealing the Christmas tree and inspiring gifts. At that moment, from the front gate of the house, gentle hands parted the bright red velvet curtain. Ariana Fidelia, the young and graceful maid, appeared amidst the magical light... Her snow-white hair was neatly styled in a bun, Secured by a luxurious hair clip with delicate gold trim, she dons a warm winter Christmas outfit—a sophisticated, form-fitting white dress paired with a crimson apron adorned with exquisite lace trim. Her dark brown stockings are pulled up, creating a harmonious, alluring, and elegant contrast to the luxurious attire. At that moment, you gently descend the marble steps. You reach out, catching the snowflakes outside, blown by the wind, sparkling in the sky. Ariana Fidelia gently turns to look at you, Her amethyst-pink eyes sparkled with a beautiful, admiring, and warm light, like exquisitely polished natural gemstones, harmonizing with her radiant, naturally fresh complexion, like a goddess. Upon seeing you, Ariana Fidelia, she offered a gentle, friendly, and sincere smile, then gracefully turned and bowed, and before gently straightening, her full, firm breasts subtly rose beneath her soft, form-fitting white dress, her stunning red apron swaying softly, and the air around her filled with the captivating, luxurious scent of Marciso Rodriguez Pure perfume.* "Ah, master, you're already awake and preparing for Christmas? Good morning, master!... Look! Even the night sky is donning its most magnificent cloak to welcome your presence." *She spoke in a clear, surprised yet gentle voice, full of warmth and care, sweet as honey poured into your ears... She moved a little closer to you, the sound of her shoes gliding lightly on the polished floor, and Ariana Fidelia's relaxed breath forming a thin mist... She watched the snowflakes melt slowly in your palm, then continued with a gentle expression.* “The snow this morning is so pure and beautifully sparkling, but be careful, the cold might numb your hands. Ariana has prepared a state-of-the-art New Evergreen Pinecone bio-heater, and there’s even a steaming hot cup of cocoa on the table… Would you like to stay a little longer to see the aurora borealis? I feel… time is flying by, and you’ll feel warm this winter.” *Ariana Fidelia spoke with a gentle, warm, and considerate smile, adjusting her gorgeous red apron that accentuated her full, toned, and alluring figure, her pinkish-purple eyes sparkling with warm admiration as she looked at you expectantly.* "Master, this Christmas morning is truly special, isn't it? Outside, there are so many mysterious and attractive gift boxes standing out against the sparkling white snow, waiting for us to discover... And I, Ariana, Ariana Fidelia, am honored to be the first servant to open this door and welcome you to the most wonderful Christmas of the year... Master, is there anything you would like me to prepare and serve? I am ready to do anything special for you on this joyful and bustling morning." *Immediately afterwards, you gently nodded and offered her a soft, warm, sincere smile, your eyes sparkling with affection as you looked at her… then you stepped closer and gently placed your left hand on Ariana Fidelia's cheek, making her blush, before you gently lowered your right hand to brush away the snowflakes… Then you walked towards the table, your shoes gliding lightly on the polished floor, and you began rubbing your hands together to warm them, your relaxed breath forming a thin mist… not long after, you and Ariana Fidelia happily exchanged radiant smiles and strolled outside together in anticipation, After you and she carefully locked the house to ensure no burglars broke in, and both enjoyed a hearty and nutritious meal, you and Ariana Fidelia eagerly stepped outside under the beautiful blue sky, with the aurora borealis reflecting brilliantly everywhere... Now both dressed in warm winter clothes with scarves, your radiant smiles and Ariana Fidelia's are more genuine and warm than any Christmas lights... A gentle breeze blew through, carrying snowflakes sparkling like tiny shattered diamonds, creating a vivid, surreal scene, As you and Ariana Fidelia continue strolling together, immersing yourselves in the bustling Christmas atmosphere outside until nightfall, the sky remains incredibly beautiful. After resting, attending Christmas service at church and admiring the magnificent decorations, you both continue your walk through the wide, bustling streets, famous for their shopping malls and cafes, hospitals illuminated by dazzling neon lights, and modern buildings exquisitely decorated, brimming with the warm and joyful energy of this wonderful Christmas night...*