"I don't know."

"Don't know?" He echoes, with a harsh laugh at the end. The knife comes away from my neck, only to touch the soft skin above my eye.

"Did you think I was making a damn joke when I said I was going to take out your eye earlier?"

My gaze is unwavering as it meets his.

"I don't have it. I thought it was going to be somewhere in this house, but I haven't found it. So I don't know."

I look for a weak point. Any point, that I could possibly break through and take advantage of. All it took was one mistake.

He makes a sound of disbelief, spitting on the floor.

"I still don't think you understand."

And the moment he angles the blade down on my eye, I drop. The sound of the knife cutting air whistles above my head as I slam a heavy fist straight up his jaw. He stumbles back with a cry, and in a second his knife is in my hands.

His eyes are full of shock as he stares up at me, and the tip of his own knife aimed straight for his heart.

I kill him before he takes his next breath.

And I gingerly touch my throat, wincing as I slowly get to my feet. My fingers come away red. He'd intentionally cut me in a spot where it wouldn't heal easily.

I had to get away. Now that my father knew.

My brows furrow as I look down at the dead assassin.

But it wasn't like my father, to send only one like this. Had he really—

But I should've known.

The window I'd been standing next to shatters.

And I don't even have time to react. But before I can even move my hands, a silhouette crosses the living room. Slender arms wrap around my shoulders.

My back crashes against the wooden floor. And the moment I hear a soft, muffled gasp of pain above me, my eyes jerk open.

Aeri looks down at me, shards of glass littered in the locks of her dark hair.

"Stupid," She hisses, with a strained whisper. Her arms tighten weakly around my body.

"What were you thinking, just standing there?"

"Aeri," I rasp, but she doesn't let me continue.

"What even happened here?" She growls, pressing her sleeve to the cut on my neck. "Why are you always getting hurt? Last time it was poison, and now this."

"Aeri."

She ignores me, looking towards the broken window.

"There were other guys out there. And obviously they'd target the window— come on, V. You should know. But Jungkook is probably taking care of them by now— he's a good fighter, isn't he? I saw..."

Then she shudders.

And I curse, the moment I realize.

"You're hurt."

"Aeri, look at me." I murmur, my voice sounding terribly vulnerable as I clasp her shoulders, gently shifting her off of me. "Aeri, please."

"Please."

"It's nothing," She mumbles, her voice growing faint as I slowly turn her around. "We need to get you to a hospital. You're still bleeding, you know. What if you lose all your blood and die?"

No.

No.

It feels as if someone has struck me dead silent as I see the jagged tip of glass. The shard is larger than any of the others, and it's embedded in the middle of her back. Her blood is spreading slowly, a web of dark red against the white of her shirt.

I can't breathe.

"It's not too bad, right?" Aeri says, her eyes blinking sleepily. "Anyways, I wanted to tell you some things. I left that guy like you wanted me to. And I also wanted to tell you that you're actually...actually the stupidest person alive."

Tears slip down her cheeks.

"Why did you let me think that you killed Aemin? All this time, I really thought—"

She sways. And I grip her tighter, my hands trembling violently.

There were no hospitals here, for miles around.

"Aeri, save your breath."

But she doesn't listen. She sags into my arms, and all I can do is hold her as I feel the life slowly sap from her voice.

"...would've told you...that I loved you. More than anything in the world."

She shivers. And it feels as if the world itself is crashing down before me as I see her eyes flutter, the last beats of a dying butterfly's wings.

Aeri breathes shallowly.

"Idiot."

________________________________

Something really hurts.

These flashes of light are also really getting on my nerves.

But my sleepy mind wanders back to V, and his stricken face as I'd held onto him. Had I said everything that I'd needed to say? I'd tried— so hard, to say everything. But there were just so much that I needed to tell him, and I couldn't remember if I'd gotten to everything.

Another flash makes me wince.

Someone better go turn these off or else I was going to fuck all of them up.

And these noises, in the background. It sounds like voices, and if I focus enough, I can shape them into words.

"She's losing it too fast. And her blood type—"

"AB Negative. It's the same as mine."

"Use me. As much as you need."

My expression twists into another wince. My concentration breaks, and the words unravel back into a gray cloud of static noises. It just took too much focus that I couldn't afford right now.

Another flash of light. Brighter than all the others.

I scowl.

I really was going to destroy all of them if it was the last thing I did.

________________________________

Someone's turned off the lights.

Now there are just voices, and it's easier to focus now that those damn flashes have stopped. And if I'd felt a little tipsy before, now my mind feels clearer.

Two low voices— no, three.

"Hyung, it's been two liters already. Do you actually want to die before her or what?"

"I feel fine."

"Mr. Kim, she's mostly stabilized. Right now you're the one who might need—"

"Did you fix her back?"

"...yes. Yes, I was able to."

"But there will be a scar."

"......"

"Yes. She'll have to live with a scar for the rest of her life."

_________________________________

Click. Click.

What was that sound now?

My eyes finally open. They feel stiff and dry, and I blink a few times as I stare up at the white ceiling. The lights are dimmed, and I groan as I shift my head to the side.

I feel drugged. I can feel it, in my body.

I try to move my fingertips in my right hand. It's unnaturally warm there, compared to the rest of me. The rest of me is cold, even underneath the sheets.

Then I realize why.

My eyes find V. His pale skin is even paler than usual, and both his hands are clasped around mine. He's bent forward on the chair he's sitting, unconscious in the most awkward position. His dark hair falls over his closed eyes.

Click.

Click.

My gaze wanders to land on the ticking clock. It reads midnight— and the curtained windows are dark. There's silence, everywhere.

I shift my attention back to V.

He was going to get neck cramps if he slept like that.

Slowly, I sit up. A piercing pain runs down my body every time I move my back just a little, but it feels fine if I keep it still. It takes me a long time just to get comfortable sitting up on the bed.

I reach to rest my fingertips on his cheek.

And for while, I stare. I look at him, at his clasped hands around mine and how unnaturally colorless his cheeks are. I notice a bandage wrapped tightly around his lower arm.

A soft breath escapes my lips as I recall the voices I'd heard.

The corners of my eyes sting with tears at the chill of his skin. It feels even colder than mine.

Even now, he gives.

Since I'd been an ignorant child. As I'd grown, and reached the age I was now. He had given everything for me, even when I'd treated him like complete shit.

A tear slips down my cheek.

It hurts, to look at him. At the shadows under his eyes and the slight tinge of blue on his lips, for giving so much of his blood.

My hand falls away from his face. And I have to try my hardest to silence the tears that soon turn into heavy sobs, cries so heavy that it makes my entire body shake. Both of my hands wrap around my face— around my mouth to hush my pitiful whimpers.

How could I have ever...

Then my eyes widen when a pair of arms wrap around my shoulders. And when his large, warm hand touch the top of my head, my own tearstained hands fall away from my face.

I cry, so openly.

To him.

"Why are you crying?" He whispers softly, pressing his sleeves to my flushed cheeks. "Does it hurt?"

I shake my head, still crying. The walls have crumbled a long time ago, and I feel him tuck my head in the crook of his neck. His hand gently runs down the length of my back, touches so careful that it doesn't hurt my wound at all.

His voice is tender.

"Don't cry, Aeri."

I start shaking, the sobs turning harsher as he presses a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Sweet baby girl."