"You look hideous," I hear a woman laughs from behind as I try to fix my hair on the mirror. As I see her, her emerald green dress graciously touches the floor. Without turning her way, I chuckle. Of course I do. What is she expecting? Surgically altered lips? Flat stomach? At least I shaved. I look to the mirror, and I find her standing beside me, looking gorgeous as always. Her eyes are the color of rainy day, and her gaze are as warm as a cup of steaming hot tea. She looks at me in disbelief, as if we were world apart. While actually, we've spent nearly 30 year together. "You don't want to joke about my look, Mam," I warn her. She grins widely, like a moron, then she tiptoe a little to kiss my cheek and leaves the room.

I look to the mirror once more, to make sure of everything. I stare into the eyes of a man who was once holds a demon he could not conquer. They are blue, the eyes and they are wrinkled. The hair that was once blond is turning white. I also notice some difference in what were once muscular arms. The muscles are deterorating. I am getting old. As well as she, the woman who laughed at my condition. I button up my shirt and try to put on the tie. I'm bad at wearing ties.

Now, I know you hate spoiler, but you will eventually understand that the best people are extremely inquisitive. Curiosity often gets the best of them. It is not bad, although I shall say I see not much good in it either. I tell you this. We end well. We live happily. And we will continue to do so.

"Dad? What took you so long?" my daughter shows up in the doorway, she frowns just like an adult. Her lips curled. Her hair is the color of coal, dark and in some way reminds me of silk. "Won't you help me with this dear?" I answer her question with another question. Reluctantly she walks towards me. I kneel before her and she stretches out her skinny arm towards my tie. Once upon a time, she was just a dream. With her capable hands, she manages to make me look more presentable, as now the crumpled tie looks neatly done. I look into her eyes, and, as if on cue, she leans in and let me kiss her forehead. Then she runs downstairs. Her back shirt is untucked, which recall the thought of a young girl whose smile melts one of the toughest heart I've ever known.

I make my way out of the room, my hand touches the cold metal knob as I close the door, and I go downstairs, where all the cheerful background noise comes from.

Once upon a time, this house was so quiet, that every creak on the floor will count as cheerful noise.