Elise felt her cheeks reddened and embarrassment enveloping her eyes but she didn't move away nor her lips said words to counter his words or stop him. Seeing it, Ian can't help but pull a wide smile.

"You're not going to stop me?" Ian whispered when his lips turned brushed against the top of her ears. "I thought you'll be saying things by now."

Elise bit the inside of her cheeks. She didn't talk because she didn't know what she wanted to do or feel. At one side, Elise wanted to stop Ian for the ticklish feeling that filled her stomach with butterflies but at another, she didn't want to stop. The former feeling was smaller than the latter, stopping her from talking or stopping him.

She opened her pursed lips, "I never dream of odd things about you."

"Odd things? Like what?" Ian turned his eyes at her, an oblivious expression appeared on his face as if he really can't understand what Elise was feeling. "Where does your dream often stop at? A kiss?"

Elise's eyes that looked at Ian widened, her naive blue eyes showed a look of surprise that showed Ian the answer of yes to his question.

Elise had always been the worse when it comes to hiding her emotion over him. She was wearing her heart on her sleeve that often worries Ian. To others, her honesty and her good heart always easily induce warmth for them and kindness which acted like solace. But for her, her kindness was easy for them to abuse and twist to their side. Ian didn't want her to get hurt and this goes for both physical and mental.

"What were you dreaming?" came his next question, deciding to stop here as Elsie seemed to have become relaxed from the incident in the evening.

"My past, with my mother," replied Elise, her eyes looking down from Ian to the quilt that covers her, "How long have I've been asleep?"

"Only two hours," replied Ian, and she felt his hand drawling over her neck, "Would you want a drink?"

Elise shook her head. Only two hours had passed. Elise recalled everything again where Carmen had died and she was attacked by her friend. Everything felt like a dream because now she felt at peace with Ian.

Elise didn't want to cry but she can't help to feel tears welling up to her eyes when she recalled Carmen's last expression before she died. Her hand clutched tighter to the quilt when she felt her head pulled and Ian rested her head to his shoulder, "Stop thinking about it," he took her hand, placing it to his side as the quilt had begun to change color due to her power activating. "If you keep using your pretty little head to worry, about others, where will I be inside your filled mind?

Elise can't help but smile when looking at Ian. She knew this was him trying to comfort her.

"What kind of dream did you see with your mother?" Ian questioned her. He could tell it wasn't a good dream but a nightmare; regardless he asked because both of them need to open the wounds of their pasts which would bring more closure.

Elise didn't think she had told Ian of it before, "My mother was not in a stable mental state when I was young," started Elise, "I don't know where my father went but since I could remember he wasn't there."

"Hm, you told me that. Do you have any faint idea where he could be?" questioned Ian while his hand caressing the side of her head.

"I don't," a small sigh escaped from her lips. "I don't think my relatives knows either. In the past, I asked my mother but she didn't reply," said Elise. She recalled the memory of her past where she watched the displeasure pass by her relatives when she asked of her father, and it was worse when she questioned her mother.

"I remember the only one person who told me about him was my uncle from my mother's side. He only told me that my father left my mother one night never to come back," Ian narrowed his eyes, and Elise continued, "He said my father left because he couldn't tolerate my mother's mental breakdown episodes any longer."

"So he ran away just like that?" Ian filled Elise's words that she didn't continue as she can't put the words directly to her mouth. Even if she didn't hold any single memory about her father, somewhere deep in her heart she wanted him to be a good father, because if not, she wouldn't have any family members who she could proudly say as family— family who wouldn't betray her.

Elise nodded her head slowly, "My uncle said so," she hoped and wished her father to be a good man. But would a good husband leave his wife whose mind was filled with madness while leaving his daughter there?

From the talk, it could be surmised Elise's father to be a possible son of a bastard, thought Ian in silence, not saying the words aloud.

"Continue about your dream," Ian whispered, his hand fitting into her hair, brushing through the locks, "Did your mother often vent her anger and frustration to you?"

"She was not a bad mother," Elise answered, meeting Ian's red eyes and she could tell he didn't buy her words, "My mother would often get angry to me, but not always. There was a phase where she would be gentle, like the old her who had always been there for me. But it didn't last long," drawled Elise, "It gradually caught up to the point her mad episodes stays longer than her gentle self, until one day, she never came back." The 'she' Elise meant was her loving mother.

Elise had talked without sadness nor anger in her voice. The major reason is that her mother was the woman who brought her up with love and care. Although Elise didn't grow up with many beautiful memories of her mother, she treasured the times she shared with her where it was the most serene; Where her mother would hug her and carry her in her arms. And that memory was enough to blow away all the sad memories Elise had throughout her childhood.

She didn't lie when she said her mother was a kind mother. To others, her mother might not be the best, but for Elise, she was enough than she could ever have.

Her mother had been there to protect her, at times she would be the one to beat her, but she knew that despite everything it was not her mother's fault. It was the madness that turned her mind to hate whatever was near her.

When her mother woke up from her crazed self, Elise recount the times when her mother would cry to her, apologizing for what she did. Elise can never blame her mother for that.

"You loved her," Ian uttered, his words gentle.

"I did," she confirmed with a smile that wasn't too wide on her lips. This had a question to form inside Elise's mind, and she asked, "Don't you love your mother too?"

This question of her gathered lurking cruelty and darkness to flickered over Ian's red eyes.