Silences of A Butterfly

Im Yoona doesn’t know who to blame, as she watch the glass’ shards crack her skin open, letting the crimson red liquid flows, drip by drip, that tastes sour and bitter as she draws the liquid closer to her lips. She can feel the heavy-scented liquid flows down from her trachea to her instestines, leaving her tongue with a numb feeling. And by then, a man scurries to her side, and pulls her thumb to his side. She can feel herself flinch as the ointment being applied to her wound.

He doesn’t.

No words come out from each onr of them, as the other of the two halves blends himself in focus to mend her wound. While she focuses herself to answer the question that she expects, yet she hopes to not be said.

And as the indifferent feeling that arises, even after the wound is covered, there are still unhealed scars that can’t be cured, or even worse, that no one wants to cure. She hides her other hand below her, gripping the hem of her dress, as the question she expects, come true.

“What were you doing?” says Luhan, the deepness of his voice brings her hand to her lap, somehow refusing to tell him the truth. But the truth will hurt her also,