VI ARCANE

Butterflies can't see their wings, and apparently, they can not see how they get cut off, too. Just feel the emptiness and pain when they're gone.

Violet was like a... well, a flower, in your mind. Growing even against the hardships of the Lanes. All beautiful. Until it got cut off— kidnapped was a better word, though. Taken and locked away for years with no reason at all.

And somehow— or by the force of someone, Vi was back. As weak for your eyes as ever, her pink head falling against your shoulder with pain.

"I know... you hate me, for leaving," there was a loud thud, and by your sides, the enormous blue gauntlets, desperation sets in her eyes and irriation on yours. Vi large hands still had their usual wrapping, yet they seemed even more filthy. Blood dripping from them, and there was a tug in your heart as the memory of your pathetic body begging her to come back in your knees.

"Have you ever changed them?"

"Not really," she whispers as her hands go to rest on your hips, her head moving to give you a pleading look. "That was your job."