Her fingers press against the front of his chest, panic rising up around her throat, until all she can do is cling; the world that spins around her slow as she takes deep, labored breaths. And that's when she notices. She tries the slightest of tugs, a hand slipping out to press against the back of his neck, fingertips brushing against the hair at the nape of his neck. The strength is what catches her off-guard.

"You bleed out," she says, blinking her eyes open again, stars and butterflies speckled at the edges of her vision. "It goes to your brain, and when it attacks, all you see are butterflies. The most... beautiful butterflies."

Green eyes flicker up towards his voice, but landing his gaze takes a little more time. "You don't see them, do you? You should've seen them by now. They all died in seconds."