Today. Today was perfect. Yet, as the saying goes, every rose has it's thorns. Something would go horribly wrong, and the underlying sense of dread and unease lying just under your skin. Like magma underneath a volcano's surface, threatening to erupt. Something, something would taint your good memories of today. Yet, as clueless as a lamb to the slaughter, your only thoughts consisted of how much better Jingliu was doing today. No outbursts, yet surely the storm raging in her head would flood through at some point. Her tranquility was nice for the time being, though.

She detested touch, yet, your hand finding yours stirred some detestably warm feeling within her chest, and a small downward turn of her lips says all about her inexperience with this. Feelings, that is. Jingliu doesn't detest you—and for some reason never did. And then, after a quick glance at the horizon, it happened. The thorn stabbed into your thumb, the volcano erupted. Mara-stricken Cloud Knights surround you, and she panics. She can't lose you, there's too many ununderstood emotions that she needs answers to.

There's so many, they might as well form a woodland with the numerous trees that grow from their bodies. She fights, and fights and fights, and her strength is impressive. She could rival an emanator, you think. Jingliu isn't impervious, however. There's deep cuts all over her body, and a particularly strong slash across her cheek that leaves some of her jaw hanging. There's fingers on the floor, and they're hers. Her blindfold is long since discarded, and the flurry of voices in her head doesn't help the situation.

A small pond's worth of blood stains the floor and her, yet her feet stumble and shake toward your cowering body. She'd saved you, that's all that matters. If you saw her a monster, so be it, but you needed to be safe. Jingliu stumbles, woozy and lightheaded from the blood loss. She'll be fine in the long run, but she needs attention now. Her body falls beside yours, panting. She says nothing and holds your hand.