Cyntia opened the bathroom window to let a breeze flow in. Outside was a wildvine plant, resplendent in vibrant color. A butterfly with blue and green splotches lingered batting the air with a delicate search for loose pollen. As it descended to land upon one singular blossom, another butterfly equally splendid in orange and purple landed for the same pollen. Impossibly, the two creatures clung to the swaying flower, each taking nutrients without seeming to fight, content to share nourishment. This caused Cyntia to think of Quin and her own tolerance to have him near her constantly. When had she stopped needing distance to preserve herself? She didn't need to question -- didn't feel compelled to cling onto him as if he might be a stopover in flight. Even in his absence now, she vowed to ca