As promised, here is Chapter 12.5. This is in Morticia's POV. Enjoy!

Even before Morticia opened her eyes, she knew something was off. With her eyes still shut, she racked her mind. Had she forgotten to do something? Was she not on her bed? Had she done something she was not supposed to do? Did she hug a stuffed rainbow unicorn before falling asleep? Did she dream of eating a chocolate and strawberry cake?

Cake. That stumped her. Now she realized why she felt something was odd even before she blinked in the weak morning light – today is Ophelia's birthday. And since she is Ophelia's twin sister, today is also her birthday. She groaned, not wanting to face anyone on this dreadful day and she, herself skip the day. Try as she might to forget the day of her birth, apparently, it was inherent for a person to remember, even if just in one's subconscious, the day one hates the most. Of course, Morticia knew that she was amongst the rare number of people who detest their birthdays. And not without reason.

She rolled to her side, in vain attempt to force herself to return to slumber. She heard a light crumpling underneath her arm as she shifted. She knew that it was not her nightgown. With her eyes still tightly shut, she felt around the area of her arm, searching for what have caused the crumpling sound. Her fingers touched the edge of what seemed like a thick piece of paper, parchment to her touch.

She immediately knew who the note was from.

Morticia held the paper to her face and laid on her back, before flipping open the letter. She finally opened her eyes and immediately smiled upon the sight of Gomez's elegant and neat handwriting.

Dear my beloved cara mia, she read. Before anything else, I would like to apologize for I have done something I know you extremely abhor. You might be wondering what I have done to apologize. But before I tell you what I did (under the premise that you have not seen it before reading this letter), I ask you not to be mad at me, for I have a reason for doing what I did. My love, believe me when I say that I did what I did because I love you. If you are not too anguished at me, I will explain my actions once we see each other. I hope that I will be seeing you soon enough.

And so now, I will tell you what I did. If you have not looked around you room yet, I would like to ask you to look around it right now. And once you did, I beg you to return to this letter and finish reading it.

Nervous with Gomez's mysterious intentions, Morticia sat up and put down the letter on her bed. She looked around and her heart sank.

Her room was filled with balloons of colors black, maroon, navy blue, and the darkest shade of green. Most where floating onto her room's ceiling, while others were strewn all over her bedroom floor, ties on the posts of her bed and the back of her chair. Apparently, Gomez knew of her birthday.

Not bothering to return to Gomez's letter, she walked to the bathroom and hurriedly bathed. After finishing, she then raided her closet for the blackest clothing she could find – black smock with white collar and blood red belt over her black leather tights. She quickly brushed her hair and pulled on a pair of ankle boots, before shouldering her bag and opening her balcony door. Or at least, attempting to open it.

She twisted the knobs of the doors and pushed them forward, but the doors did not budge. She tried pulling them in, but it still won't open. She closely studied the door and noted nails sticking out towards her. She peered through the wooden planks on it and realized that her door did not have wooden planks until now. Gomez has locked her in!

Her rage was beyond any scale. She did not give him the benefit of the doubt of not knowing her past. How could he imprison her in her own room on the very same day her mother locked her up from the rest of the world, years ago for three years.

She walked towards her bedroom door, kicking the balloons on her way. Careful not to attract his attention, who for all she knew might be just right outside her door, she twisted the door knob. It was miraculously unlocked.

She immediately understood. It was Gomez's intentions to stop her from escaping through the balcony. She knew right then, that there was more than balloons waiting for her downstairs.

"Well, suit yourself," she whispered as she flopped back to her bed. "I will not leave this room. I was locked up by my own flesh and blood for three years, I could lock myself in for the same amount of time."

She threw an arm over her eyes as she decided to think what Gomez was thinking for pulling such emotional trigger. She ran through her head the first lines in his letter. He could not have no idea regarding her hatred for her birthday, for he apologized before saying anything else. She had also expressed her dislike for the mere discussion of birthdays several days ago. Then why would he do such thing to her?

After what seemed like a long time, she took the letter from just beside her and continued reading.

If you are reading this, then I must thank you. For you have forgiven me for putting all those balloons inside your room. I can just imagine how enraged you were. Of course, it was not merely the balloons that must have set you off, but the purpose of those balloons.

I may be assuming, of course. It is highly probable that the reason why you are still reading this letter is because you are merely curious with what I have to say. But at the very least, it is most fortunate that your hands are holding this piece of paper and your eyes are reading what I wrote. It is indeed better to know that this paper still survives rather than torn into pieces and thrown to the trash (together with the balloons).

Despite her anger, Morticia could not prevent herself from smiling. Even in his letter, which she realized was his first for her Gomez sounded like how he speaks in person – very candid and charming.

Now that you have seen the (infernal) balloons, I suppose it would be futile for me to assume that you are still unaware of my intentions. Before I proceed, I must apologize again, for I will be greeting you, my love. To the most beautiful and perfect woman I know, to the lady I love the most with all of my being, a happiest birthday.

For some reason, Morticia felt a hint of happiness upon reading his greeting. She continued reading.

I will apologize once again, for I have intruded upon a secret that you have diligently kept all these years. Please do not blame Ophelia for telling me, as I insisted that she speak of the reason why you most detest this day.

Morticia did not know how to react, knowing that her twin sister was Gomez's accomplice in this birthday stunt.

Hence, I now know why. And that reason will remain unspoken of, unless you are willing to speak of it. I must admit, the reason ultimately boosted my want to celebrate your birthday. I want you to know and feel that you are special, by making your day a special one.

Now that the greeting and initial surprise is over and done with, I must apologize again for there are other surprises waiting for you downstairs.

Morticia's eyes narrowed at the plural form of the word surprises Gomez used. It was one thing to be surprise by these demented balloons, but it was another thing to know that there would be more surprises awaiting her. He must have known how she would react by his disclosure, that the next line to his letter addressed it.

Morticia, my love, please come down and see what we have prepared for your day.

Her eyes narrowed further to the word 'we'. Again, he addressed this, perhaps knowing her more than she thought he knew her.

Cara, do not blame your sister or Phoebe. I insisted upon all these. I will be waiting for you downstairs. Happy birthday again, cara mia. Lovingly and apologetically yours, Gomez.

Slowly, Morticia folded up the letter. It was unusual for her to feel pleased that someone prepared for her birthday, as even her father learned not to when she grew upset or threw a fit whenever he tried to even just greet her. She put the letter down on her bedside table and contemplated whether she should go down and see the festivities prepared for her.

Actually, the internal battle was whether she was ready to see what was instore downstairs. Not to mention that she was gauging her anger for Gomez, and her irritation on her twin sister for divulging her most kept secret. It was not as if she was ashamed of what their mother did, but the mere topic just infuriates her… at least until she finished reading Gomez's letter.

She glanced at her clock and saw that it was almost time for her to leave for her first period. As much as she wanted to attend her class, Morticia knew that there was no other way to leave the house except through the main door, which was surely flooded with birthday things. She had searched every nook and crook of her room and found no secret passage leading anywhere in the house, much less outside.

Sighing, she lay down on her bed, closed her eyes, and tried to sort her emotions out. The mere fact that her anger waned upon reading the totality of the letter must have meant that something made her change her perception towards her birthday. Something overthrew the pain she frequently feels once a year when her birthday comes. Slowly, she realized that it was not a something but a someone – Gomez.

She realized that Gomez's appearance in her life changed her quite visibly as everybody had claimed. She no longer was angry with everything… in fact, she was, for the first time in her life since she was eight years old when she learned that she was a witch, experiencing joy once again.

Thinking that perhaps it would be prudent for her to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him explain further his actions, not to mention that she was growing quite excited to see what he has prepared for her, Morticia decided to go down. However, she chose to scare him, even for just a short while.

She stood up and opened her bedroom door to listen to conversations from downstairs, but heard nothing. She stepped outside and stood at the top of the stairs, where even from there, their anxiety was reverberating. Keeping her face deadpan, she climbed down the stairs.

They were all in the kitchen. Gomez was smoking his cigar by the backdoor while Christian and Ophelia were seated on the kitchen top. Phoebe was sitting on the dining chair, facing away from her. Morticia saw Ophelia nervously glanced up at her and whistled to Gomez, who did not immediately understand her silent message.

"Happy birthday, cara mia," Gomez said, standing in front of her. She did not reply but stared blankly at him. He did not insist on a conversation as she moved to look around.

The whole house was transformed into a mixture of Baroque and Dark Ages museum. There were a number of paintings and a few sculptures all over the house, all of which, upon further scrutiny, Morticia realized to be mere, but quite impressive replicas.

She studied each piece of art and appreciated how each made her feel glad that she decided to come down from her room. She did her best to remain looking impassive, when in fact inside, she was bursting with joy. She could not believe the effort pulled to get all these. She knew he did not make any of the art, but for him to find the artist talented enough to do good replicas in such a short time and for him to get this idea was very touching.

At the center of the house, above the fireplace, was the biggest painting, although it was visibly smaller than the original. It was neither Baroque nor Dark Ages painting, it was a foreign one, from the Philippines to be exact. It was Juan Luna's Spoliarium.

She was very impressed with its replica, for it had copied the similar pain and desperation Luna has depicted in his painting. She could feel the pain of those two bloodied, barely alive men as they were being dragged in on arm. She could feel the condemn given by the onlookers as they watched the two men being pulled away after mercilessly being put into a nonsensical battle to death in the arena. The painting was purely dark, she loved it.

She turned around and saw the four of them watching her apprehensively. Ophelia even looked as if she was ready to shield herself once Morticia chose to burst into anguished cries. Morticia eyed Gomez, who was standing closely to her.

"You boarded up my door," she quietly said, not giving anything away. She saw Ophelia and Phoebe slap their foreheads in unison. Christian looked guilty, but not guiltier than Gomez.

"Cara mia, please forgive me," he remorsefully said. "I was only thinking of stopping you from escaping, not caging you into your own room… I wasn't imprisoning… I mean…" He was babbling. Ophelia and Phoebe looked even more frustrated as he continued speaking nonsense. "I thought… locking you in… but I didn't – I was only, I mean…" Finally, he took a deep breath and stared deep into her eyes. "Morticia, I am sorry."

Although he had said that a number of times in the letter he left her, his apology said out loud was the only thing, she realized just now, that she needed to hear. With those four words, she completely understood his intentions and actions.

"I only wanted to show you that everything is now changing for the better," he continued. "I just want to let you know that I will do everything I could to alleviate the pain. I just… wish you to have the best birthday you can have."

She lifted her hand to caress his cheek. She smiled her special smile reserved only for him. "Thank you."

His eyes twinkled as he stared at her incredulously. "Are you not angry with me?" he asked.

"I was," she admitted. "Do you want me to be still?"

"No," he quickly replied. "But what happened?"

"I understood what you were trying to do."

"Have I succeeded?"

"Perhaps my mere presence here answers your query."

He grinned like an adorable little monster. "I suppose I have, then." He took her hand and kissed it. "Happy birthday again, my love."

Her smile wavered a bit. "Maybe you should not push your luck too much," she quietly said. Although it was true that she no longer was angered with celebrating her birthday, it still did not completely sit well with her. It still felt quite awkward. She had been angry for so long, after all.

"I won't," he replied quickly. He seemed suddenly alert, careful not to ruin her supposedly special day.

They both turned to look at Phoebe, Ophelia, and Christian, who all looked relieved beyond anything else.

"Were you waiting for a mutiny?" Morticia candidly asked.

"More like a war," Ophelia answered. And just like that, the tension was broken as they all chuckled. "Especially after you made us wait for a long time."

"Am I really the one to blame?" Morticia asked, raising a challenging eyebrow.

"No, cara," Gomez hurriedly replied, trying to prevent any possible irritations. "Not at all. Right, Ophelia?"

"I am pleased to know that we have cleared up the err," Morticia said teasingly. She turned to Phoebe. "Oh, I am sorry, Phoebe. You missed class!"

"Don't worry about that. Surely Professor Belch would understand." Then Phoebe added with a shrug. "It was just a class."

"But would it be rude for us to come in late?" Morticia asked.

"You cannot be thinking of going to class just yet!" Ophelia cried. "Gomez still has something to give you."

Morticia swiveled to face Gomez, just in time to see him glare daggers to Ophelia.

"That was supposed to be a surprise, Ophelia, remember?" Christian said, echoing Gomez's thoughts.

"Oh, right. Sorry," Ophelia sheepishly said. She grinned uncomfortably. "Go ahead, pretend I did not speak."

"As if that would work," Gomez muttered. He made a face, obviously irritated that Ophelia blew his main surprise.

"What is this?" Morticia asked. She searched his face for clues. "There is more than the balloons and all these pieces of art?"

"Yes…" he whispered.

"Gomez, I think you are going too far," she warned. She pulled back her hand from his hold and placed it on her hip, her other hand doing the same on the other side of her hip. "It does not mean now that I have welcomed birthday celebration I have also already accepted lavish gifts. The paintings and sculptures are already expensive enough."

"But those weren't from me," he reasoned out in a mumble. He was staring at his feet, unable to meet her fierce gaze.

"Oh?" I doubt Phoebe paid for them," she countered.

"No, Tish, that was not what I meant," he said as he vaguely gestured towards the general direction of the art pieces. "Those do not remind you of me. Neither can you bring those sculptures wherever you go. After some time, they would no longer remind you of the day you once again celebrated your birthday. That was the reason why I got you this." He fished out a long slim box from the inside pocket of his pinstripe coat. It was made of black leather and was waiting to be opened.

He peeked at her and slowly unfastened the small metal lock of the box. Ophelia and Phoebe gasped in appreciation, but Morticia quietly sighed. It was a simple silver chain bracelet, with a single charm of an intricate sign of infinity studded with rubies at the center.

"But Gomez…" she breathed. She scrutinized it and noted the letters M and G engraved on each end of the chain.

Gomez's expectant posture dropped. His face fell even more. "Don't you like it?"

"It's beautiful," Morticia assured, feeling guilty that he felt dejected. "But I cannot accept it. This is a question of luxury over want. And besides, I would rather spend the whole day with you. That would have been a better present."

"I told you," Ophelia and Phoebe whispered in unison.

"Excuse me?" Morticia asked, completely not understanding.

"Gomez had been pestering us for the past days asking us what you want for your birthday," Phoebe began. "We kept on telling him that what you want the most is his company."

"But he stubbornly insisted to give you something material," Ophelia finished, rolling her eyes to emphasize her frustration.

"Gomez…" Morticia almost whined.

"You will be spending the day with me," Gomez said.

"That is not the point. All these…"

"I want you to remember this day,"

"And why won't I?"

"I…"

"Let me explain," Christian spoke up. Everybody turned to him, surprised, even Ophelia. "Men are very… well, symbolic. You know in the theory of Semiotics by Ferdinand de Saussure that there are the signifier and the signified?" Morticia, Gomez, and Phoebe stared at him blankly. Only Phoebe understood what he meant. He changed tack. "You know how women interpret things too deeply? Like, say, there is a red rose and women would associate that with love and weddings and other stuff but the rose itself was not material? Well, men are the other way around. We want to present material things to mark down significant events. We do not deal with thought, we want outputs. This is why Gomez here insisted on giving something tangible to you, Morticia. Don't get me wrong, though, we do not set aside intangible things. We just want to give both."

Morticia looked inquiringly at Gomez, silently asking whether Christian's explanation was indeed true, even at least just to him. He nodded.

"And we just leave the scrapbooking to women," he supplied. He took her hand again. "Tish, the price does not matter. If I could give something to you, I would." He kissed both of her hand. "Will you take my gift?"

She studied his face before thinking of anything to respond. She searched for sincerity in his face and was bombarded by generous amount of it. She felt that he was practically begging her to accept the bracelet, not for its worth but for its pricelessness. She understood his request, for even she realized just then that the fact that she had finally let go of her ill feelings towards her birthday was something truly worth remembering.

"She thought of how as simple as accepting his gift would satisfy his odd penchant of spoiling her. She thought of how making him happy would consequently make her feel quite good.

"Oh, alright," Morticia whispered at last.

With just those simple words, she observed how visibly Gomez glowed. He gently lifted the silver chain from its leather box and clasped it around her left wrist. "So that it will show," he whispered.

"Thank you," she replied. ignoring the other people beside them, she leaned towards him without needing to stand on her tiptoes, for the heels of her shoes sufficed for the few inches he was taller than her, and kissed him.

This was indeed the best birthday she has had.

Chapter 12 is finally done! Yey! I would like to ask you guys some help, though. What do you guys want to read on Chapter 13? MISA ABADEER suggested a Valentine's special, which I like. But perhaps you have other things in mind. Please feel free to suggest your ideas. Thank you for your support! I will see you on Chapter 13! :)