Some optimistic people say being able to summon butterflies at the onset of strong emotions was a wonderful thing. With Page sitting opposite a man knocked out cold by the sight of them, she wasn't sure if that was still the case. This was a curse, at its finest, and with Dara deathly afraid of them, her luck has just taken the turn for the worst. This was the last scenario she could ever predict, and it just had to happen today.

She had to get him out of here.

Her hands found Dara's cheek, giving it a light tap. When he didn't come to, she tried again. Harder. The slap resounded in the entire cafe, stopping regular customers in their movements. She couldn't care less. This date was doomed from the get-go. She just had to see it through with the least amount of spectacle that could end up in social media.

"Dara?" she called urgently, trying his other cheek. "I need you to talk to me. Come on."

Another butterfly fluttered into the cafe when a couple walked in. This time, it was because Page was worried. Did she accidentally kill Dara? Was the man allergic to them or something? But the first one didn't touch him. So, that wasn't the case.

She drew her arm back a little higher, preparing for the ultimate slap. Dara gasped as his eyes flew open. His hazy gaze landed on Page looming over him with her hand still raised. Confusion passed across his features. They immediately reverted to pure terror when another butterfly fluttered towards him.

His eyes widened, flight instincts taking control. He shoved Page away, eyes darting towards the exit. Page's heels slipped across the vinyl floor, sending her to her rear. The entire cafe stilled as Dara bolted from his seat and started wafting at the butterflies attempting to land on him. Tears glistened in his eyes, silently begging for the terror to be over.

Page staggered up and rushed towards him who started wildly flailing. "Dara!" she called again, announcing to everyone in the cafe just who this man might be. With his face plastered all over the FKG Group's advertisements and the daily news, he was bound to be recognized. Page, too. And no one could see them being like this. That would be worse.

"Get that thing away!" Dara screamed back, swinging his arm. The back of his hand slapped Page in the lips, sending her crashing against the nearby table. Plates and chairs clattered, her arms flying outward to brace her fall with the immediate chair's back. Dara whipped to her with wide eyes, an apology blocked by the distraction of the butterfly zipping to him with undeterred determination.

Page lurched up and forward. Dara kept whirling and wafting about, ending up at the potted plastic plants. The fronds tickled his shoulders and neck, sending him swatting them away too. To a random passer-by, he looked like a man who had lost it and took it against a harmless ornament. Some of the younger customers started digging for their phones. Oh, this wasn't good.

She surged towards Dara, hooking her arm around his. Her nails dug deep into his cashmere coat, and she wrestled him out of the cafe altogether. He continued swatting at the air, the butterflies kept trying to land on him, and she carried on half-carrying and half-dragging him towards the cafe's doors. His chest heaved with effort. Forced and extreme exposure to his phobia could induce a severe panic attack. Page didn't want to kill off a guy, especially one that was as handsome as him.

Wait, no. He wasn't handsome. Page definitely didn't fancy him.

They burst out of the cafe and into the street. With the establishment closer to a natural park, three butterflies soon turned into droves. Soon, even those not of the same species flocked around Dara's head, sending the man hyperventilating. A curse flew out of her lips as she scanned the surroundings. Her eyes landed on a public wash area. An idea sparked into her head.

She yanked Dara towards the array of faucets stuck into a slab of granite sitting in the middle of the park. Her fingers closed around the roll of garden hose, aiming it towards Dara. With a quick turn of the faucet knob it was connected to, water spewed out in a violent torrent, slamming straight into Dara.

The butterflies avoided water as much as they could, and none of them could fly with wet wings. It was a fact Page had to learn when dealing with her curse.

A coughing and sputtering fit stole her attention from the puddle of mud and fluttering butterfly wings to Dara who swiped his hair off his eyes, giving himself a makeshift spiky hairdo. The water seemed to have brought his sense of control back, enough to pick Page out of the foreground and notice her hands still on the hose and on the faucet knob.

Oh, her parents would certainly kill her for this.