He lead me into the backyard, where the old picnic table stood in the middle. Everything was decorated.

There were these soft red fairy lights that stretched around the fence and even across the garden to the roof of the house. There were these red paper lanterns, too, like the ones in oriental restaurants.

The old picnic table had a large scarlet, velvet cloth over it that draped to the dead, overgrown grass on the ground. On the table was a small candle in a tiny glass cup and a small vase with a rose in it.

I tried to look serious to hide my smile 'Y-you did all this?' I asked.

He nodded, with a faint grin forming on his face. 'Do you like it?'

'I-' I stop myself before I over react, remembering that I was still supposed to be mad at him. 'I guess it's alright.' I cross my arms and look away.

He looks half disappointed in himself. Then, he takes my hand and leads me to the seat. 'Wait right here.' He rushes into the house and then come back with a covered platter.

He places it at the middle of the table.

'What is it?' I look at the covered plate in front of me. He takes the lid off and I gasp. 'Ice Cream!'

'Not just any ice cream...' He tells me with a wink, handing me a spoon. I snatch it off him and take a spoonful into my mouth.

My eyes squeeze shut 'Mmm...' I sigh 'This is the best! It tastes just like the one mom-' I freeze, putting my spoon back 'It tastes like the ice Cream my mother used to make for me,' I say in a quieter voice 'You made this?'

He nods 'It took all morning...but yes. I made it for you,'

'Why?' I furrowed my eyebrow.

'Isn't it obvious?' He says reaching out under the table and holding my hands 'I love you, Raven.'

'So you were here all day making all this for me because you love me?' I repeated and he nodded gently 'What if I said to you right now that I didn't love you back?'

'I'd still love you,' he replied simply 'And I'll carry on loving you forever.'

'Even if I reject your love?'

He nods.

There is a moment where none of us say a word to each other. To avoid awkward eye contact, I look around the back yard instead. It was as if everything there had been left untouched for over 14 years. Sure there were decorations hanging around that looked like they'd been put there this morning but besides that, everything else was where I had remembered it to be. Except more old, overgrown or even broken.

'You want to go back?' His voice suddenly breaks my train of thought.

'What?' I ask, looking back at him.

'Do you want to go back to the Manor. You seem bored here so...'

'No it's fine.' I tell him, getting up from my seat 'I just want to walk around here. See if anything's changed.'

'Do you want to go inside the house?' He suggests and then looks up at the sky, holding his hand out 'It looks like it's about to rain again.'

I nod, following him into the old house. We entered through the back door, which lead to the kitchen. It looked like someone had been cooking here despite the house being uninhabited for a long time. It must have been Claude.

Without his help and rather from my own memory, I found my way to the living room and hesitated to sit down on the moldy old sofa. I gulp, taking a seat and waiting as Claude soon came to the living room as well.

'Who wants to bet this TV still works?' I point at the old television set sitting at the corner of the room on a small wooden stand.

'It won't,' he tells me 'I've already tried.'

'Well then, this room's boring,' I get up from the sofa and then make my way upstairs. Unlike the house Mr and Mrs Helston have now, their old house was pretty small and they only had two bedrooms; one for them and the other for Claude.

I went into their one first and the amount of dust that was in it was extraordinary. Coughing like a madman, I walked into the room. Everything was still there; the bed, the wardrobe, the bedside tables.

There was a small shelf that stood against the opossite wall, containing a row of leather bound photo albums.

Carefully, I took one out and multiple specks of dust began to fly around in the air as I opened the first page. The first album I had picked out had all their wedding photos in them. I looked through them thoroughly, examining all the faces of the people until I came across a specific one.

It was a woman, in a bridesmaid dress standing next to Mrs Helston, the bride and they were hugging in the picture. She had long dark hair that wasn't tied, but hung gracefully against her shoulder to the length of her back. Her soft, brown eyes were filled with joy. Why wouldn't they be? It was her best friend's wedding day and she was the lead bridesmaid.

'Mommy...' I find myself whispering as I touch the smooth surface of the photograph.

I felt someone approach behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder in comfort.

'You know, you look just like her now,' Claude tells me with a gentle smile 'You never bothered to cut your hair, did you? People thought you were too lazy but-'

'I wanted to grow it long like her's.'

'I know,' he faces me, running his fingers through my hair and then tucking some loose strands behind my ear.

I close the photo album and replace it in the shelf, taking out the next one. This one had pictures that were taken a few months after their wedding. Mrs Helston had a baby bump in most of the pictures meaning that she must have been pregnant with Claude at the time. The photos that my mom were in, she had one too since she was pregnant with me at about the same time.

I could remember her telling me when I was a kid that she was so excited when she found out that both their baby's would be due roughly on the same day and that her child and her best friend's child would be born on the same day. Unfortunately for her, I was born three weeks later. But fortunately for me, I didn't have to share my birthday cake with my worst enemy at the time. It still bugs me to this day how Claude managed to be three weeks older than me.

It was so annoying back then when we were kids where he used to use that 'I'm older than you' excuse for everything. Punched me? I'm older than you, so I'm allowed to hit you. Stole my toys? Sorry but I'm older than you so these toys are technically mine. Swing sets in parks? I'm older than you, so I get to go on the swings first. Any excuse, you name it.

There was another photo I spotted, one of a small baby that looked like he was bawling his eyes out. It was Claude. I sniggered a bit as I looked down at it 'You were such a cry baby.'

'You were, too.' He teases back, sticking out his tongue at me. I looked at the other pictures, which were mostly of Baby Claude doing random things like eating or sleeping or playing with toys or colouring the walls with some markers. And there was this one picture of him just in his diapers. He looked over my shoulder to the photo I was looking at and went red 'Can we skip these ones?'

'No way!' I snigger, carrying on flicking through the pages 'Pictures of you as a kid are priceless!' I picked up some more albums out of the shelves and sat down on bed, not carring that it was dusty as hell. I heard the rain outside getting heavier. Looking through the photos, I started to see ones of me as a baby, too. I had to admit, I was a pretty cute baby. I guess all babies look cute until a certain age. Heck, even Claude looked adorable as a baby. But I can't say the same about him now... What am I saying?! The adorable baby grew into a super hot guy in the span of only 19 years!

And what about me? I'm still some dull little girl and I have no idea what Claude sees in me assuming he even sees anything at all because all this might just be a big scam of his to pay back for that one time I ate the last of the oreos and he got super pissed off. Or not. I'm over thinking again.

The rain seemed to stop a little. I got up from the old bed, still holding the albums in my arms 'Would it...' I started before I lost my words staring up into his eyes. I looked down again, getting my thoughts back on track and continued 'Would it be alright if I took all these photo albums to the Manor?'

'I don't see why not,' he smiled, helping me with the remaining of the leather bound books still in the shelf. Together, we walked downstairs and to the front door.

Before I opened it, I turned around and looked at him. 'Claude...' I say, holding the albums tightly against my chest 'You said before that demons don't fell love. Was that a lie?'

It took a long time before he answered. And he responded without even looking back at me 'No, it's true. We don't feel love. But demons can have weaknesses, the things that make us flawed. And I think this whole illusion we demons created of love isn't love at all. It' just weakness; a weakness you feel about protecting someone with your life. My parents didn't love me, they felt the need that they had to protect me. That was their weakness. I was their weakness.' He paused, taking a breath before continuing 'For us, love isn't love; the idea of someone making you feel vulnerable is love. Love is...love is vulnerability.'

He finally finishes and we stand there not looking at each other, just letting the last of his words sink in. I turn back around a last time and look him straight in the eyes 'You're, wrong.' I say, holding the only memories I have of my parents wrapped in leather close to me and walked out of the house.

(A/N ??? Kind of a mixed cliffhanger there. Sorry about updating after a long time, I just didn't have the time you see... Please comment and vote. Thank you for reading!!!!♥♥)