Do not blame the knife or its creator. The pen might be mightier than the sword, but a knife plunged Seungho’s desire. Only accuse the wielder of its ill-mannered decision. Crimson stained the once peaceful weapon. His clothes were dipped in red and his hands trembled at the sight of blood; blood which rushed over his skin and encircled his wrist as a bracelet of horror. Tissues of flesh away the bittersweet liquid.

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m making a salad, but I need to take the seeds out of these cherries.”

She tightly embraced him. Seungho was her fruit murderer.

this is somehow tied with chapter 2 - wedding :3