Page tucked her skirt under her legs when she drew them up. Her arms circled her knees. "We thought nothing of it, but it got worse when I got older," she continued, clearing her throat to ward off the stammer rising in her voice. "Teens and their mood swings, am I right?"

"You bet," Dara said. "It can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," she confirmed with a nod. "Not in the least bit. High school was especially bad, so I had to be homeschooled for the last two years. Until university, I resolved to never get close with anyone, so I didn't really have deep friendships. I figured it was better to stay as an unknown shadow than a thing of rumors and mockery. People can be quite cruel, you see."

Dara bobbed his head. "Can relate to that to some degree."

She whirled to him as if he just said he was ugly. "Really, you?"

"What? Can't say I have it rougher than ninety percent of the population—I'm aware of my privileges and what it means to grow up in the family I was given—but even I get the short end of the stick when it comes to people's cruelty," he replied. "I used to be made fun of because of my fear, and being a conglomerate heir made it worse. For some reason, people liked to find something wrong with me to make themselves feel better about their situation, and...well, I used to hate everyone for not knowing better than to leave me alone. I didn't have many friends either, so that makes two for two."

"I suppose." Page hummed. "I've tried everything I could to remove my affiliation with butterflies as soon as I started working in the industry. It could get in the way of business meetings, important galas, and yes, even dates and securing a potential partner according to my family's wishes. They were even lenient enough, letting me choose who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Some heirs weren't as lucky."

It was true. One of her close associates, the daughter of the Han-Ni Group, found out she was supposed to marry a 50-year old man the day before the planned ceremony, and her family threatened to cut her off if she didn't agree to the marriage. It turned out that the 50-year old was the owner of a huge corporation that the Han-Ni Group couldn't live without.

Page didn't want to push her family's buttons until the same thing happened to her, so she operated on a tight timeframe. Every busted date pushed her closer to such a turning point, and her father's wrinkles doubled every time she came home with the news of a failed meeting or whenever they would receive a formal refusal letter from the guy's family mailed to their house.

Still, even if she fancied Dara now, she didn't want to tie him down with someone with a curse and whose curse brought things he was absolutely afraid of. It was a torture she wouldn't wish upon anyone.

"How did yours start, then?" Page found herself asking just to prolong their time together. Even if this relationship wouldn't work, at least she could say to herself she got to spend a full afternoon with the Top 1 of the 100 Most Handsome Faces of All Time. "I also don't mean to pry or offend you."

Dara craned his neck to the sky. "I visited a lepidopterarium as part of a school trip when I was like, seven," he said. "I loved butterflies as a kid, and I think I got too carried away with playing with them that the bus left without me. The teachers misplaced me and assumed I was already on my seat, when in reality, I wasn't."

A hand climbed to her mouth. That was the worst thing to do to a kid at that age. Dara didn't appear to notice her reaction with his eyes trained to the sky. "They realized it when they were already back at the campus, sending them scrambling to find me," he continued. "By then, night had fallen in the lepidopterarium, and I was bawling my eyes out when I couldn't find the students and teachers I came in with. Eventually, they have to call the school and my parents. The school apologized, and my parents scolded the Dean extensively. With me present throughout all of the talks, I can say it wasn't a pleasant experience for all parties involved."

"And since then, whenever I see a butterfly, I am reminded of that day," Dara finished with a heavy sigh. "Growing up, I developed an intense fear of being left out, of being alone in an unfamiliar place for long periods of time, and...yes, in butterflies."

He clicked his tongue and ruffled his soppy hair. Droplets of water flicked towards the grass, but never at Page. Did he plan that or was he just that perfect? "It's a silly origin story, I know," he said. "I bet you're hoping for something grander."

She shook her head. It was a genuine reaction, as far as she could tell. "Like I said earlier," she answered. "We're all entitled to our fears, and yours is as valid as mine. You didn't like being left behind and have associated the feeling with butterflies because you lived through such an experience."

"Besides," she forged ahead, her grip around her knees tightening. "We'll never see each other again, so you don't have to worry about butterflies for the time being. Stay away from flowering bushes, and you'll be fine. Don't worry about your secret leaking. I'll keep my lips sealed, so I trust you do the same with mine." She sniffed. The air was turning cold with autumn's end creeping closer. "And...well, when you send your rejection letter, can you make it seem as if our personalities never matched or something that wouldn't implicate I did something wrong? That's my only request."

"What makes you say we'll never meet again?" Dara prompted.

Page couldn't have whirled to someone this fast. Her eyes must have resembled platters with the confusion roiling in her gut and at the back of her head. "What?" she said. "You're not..."

While she struggled for words, Dara exhaled an amused gust from his nose. "You intrigue me, and I admit—I'm curious how this will all play out," he said. "I'm willing to try and overcome my fear, if it means getting to talk to you. To...spend time with you like this."

Heat rushed into her cheeks with every word dripping from his lips. "Won't that be too much?" she asked. But, really, what she wanted to say aloud was, Won't I be too much?

Dara smiled and, ever so slowly, slid his hand towards hers atop the uneven carpet of grass. "Nah," he said, his voice dropping into a soft whisper. "Never."

A trace of white and purple bobbed in Page's periphery. She wasted no time, springing upwards and marching towards the hose and the faucet. Propping the hose's tip past the stone slab, right above where she estimated him to be resting on, she twisted the faucet's knob. Water gushed through the hose's scale-green length, dumping a fresh torrent at Dara.

Instead of a string of curses, a melodious laugh echoed from behind the slab, and when Page rounded the wash area, she couldn't help but join in.

"Yeah, I'll be too much," Page said, wiping her soiled hands on her skirt. The dry cleaners would have a field day with her outfit. She braced her hands on her hips, trying to appear stern despite the laugh ruffling her throat. "Can you handle it?"

Dara pushed his hair off his forehead, splashing water towards her. With the smile picking at the corners of his lips, she proved it was intentional. "It's worth it," he said. "You are worth it."

With that, Page blasted him with another torrent before joining him underneath its influence.