Blood. The putrid stench permeated the stale air of Infinite’s apartment as oath-bound brothers waited with equally stale breaths caught in their chests. The waiting game, the worst kind of game — a game of helplessness and despair, as each member gritted their teeth, clenched their fist, massaged their temples in accepting that there was nothing more that could be done, nothing but wait.

     “Are you sure you don’t need anything?” Sungkyu asked Haneul. From where she crouched at the edge of Sungyeol’s bed, he could see the strain in her expression, the tiredness in her eyes, the shakiness in her hands as they moved in gentle sweeping motions over Sungyeol’s body. Most of the other members were taking care of Sungjong, trying to calm him down.

     “I’m okay. He’s making good progress,” Haneul replied quietly, as if even her voice had lost its strength. The stab wound in Sungyeol’s torso had almost entirely closed up, as Haneul’s first priority was to stop the incessant bleeding. Now she was focusing her energy on properly repairing the damaged tissues deep within the wound, which had narrowly missed vital organs.

     Sungkyu exchanged a glance with L, who stood anxiously at the other side of the bed. They knew the healing would take a while, what with the severity of the injury, but what they hadn’t anticipated was how big of a toll it would take on Haneul. They hadn’t seen her this worn out since the day she had woken up in Infinite’s apartment, and they were starting to make the connection—angels might have healing powers, but at the expense of their own energy. They had never realized before merely because she had never healed such an extensive wound, and now they wondered how much longer she could keep this up.

     “Maybe you should take a break,” L suggested, but Haneul just shook her head. L and Sungkyu sighed, knowing they would just have to wait it out.

. : .

     Happiness isn’t something you can chase after, Haneul’s voice echoed through the rustling leaves, and Sungyeol turned his head, trying to figure out where it was coming from. He noticed a little yellow butterfly floating down from above the treetops.

     It was warm out. Sungyeol’s body felt unusually stiff and sore as he stood on the roof, but each ray of sunlight that kissed his skin brought soothing warmth that pulsated through his very core. It was gradual, almost an imperceptible change, but with each rhythmic ache he felt just a little better.

     He finally noticed Haneul sitting on the edge of the parapet that bordered the rooftop, watching the butterfly just as he had been as it sunbathed on the ground a few feet in front of her. The butterfly sprang to life once again, fluttering through the breeze in sporadic zigzags that made Sungyeol dizzy. Haneul’s eyes remained fixated upon the tiny creature as it neared her outstretched hand, until finally it landed