Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 7

Butcher emptied the remains of his stomach lining in the sink. That's what it felt like, the stinging up his throat as he tried to focus on his eyes in the mirror. As they flickered gold he was reminded of what he did to Gunpowder, and how he then slipped away to see Violet. How he could stand around her so straight faced he wasn't sure, as what he had done would hurt her immensely. He squeezed the sink, panting.

She looked the same as she did when it all began, and the purple suited her. How it was made just for, and how she could wear it on such a short dress so confidently he didn't know. She was the same but different... She was tired of him. She was tired of it all, and as he glanced up back into the mirror he found himself agreeing with her. He had let the V course through his veins and now he had another thing he would not tell her. Once they wanted to be open with each other, and he yet again went directly against that. Billy sighed as it all calmed down, believing he was actually ready to face the day.

✧✧✧

Standing outside the door to the boys office, Violet almost chuckled. To call it an office felt a little bit absurd, a sign out the door directing her to the right place. Never before did she think they would own such solitude, mostly because each time before they were wanted men. Now they had standing, they had a rank amongst officials not just as vigilantes but basically hired killers. Because that's what she assumed they did, the same as before but with the funding of the government on their shoulders. Butcher never told her exactly what they had been up to, but she also didn't care and wanted to get back to Lola.

Violet had to decide who she was there for, because it wasn't Butcher. No matter his smile or his laugh or the comments he made, she must not be there for him. He would hurt her again and she couldn't face that. Lola argued before Violet arrived that day that she should say something, let Butcher know how it affected her with him leaving. Though if she were to pour out her heart it would be a jumbled mess she couldn't piece together. It would be too much to bare looking at his face. Any time they had talked about anything it had spilt out like oil making everything a mess of emotions. Granted, it had worked once, pouring it out to him. They had understood each other, but Violet feared if they were to do that now it would be no use.

She let out a push of air and stepped through the door, which of course halted everyone's movement inside. M.M. was rapidly scrubbing his desk, well she assumed it would be his desk as she had not a clue he would be there. Frenchie was eating something she also assumed had to be baked by him, and his face lit up as he saw her. He waved an arm behind himself, and soon the head of Kimiko peaked up from behind him, and her face lit up to.

"Mademoiselle look at you!" Frenchie gleamed as he put his treat down, M.M. visibly cringing at the mess around him.

Kimiko had already made her way to her, examining her mid length brown hair and purple t-shirt. That morning Violet had stood at her closet door and judged every piece of clothing she owned. She had no clue what to wear, if it were to be covered in blood or if it would be strange to see her so purple. But it was a relief when Kimiko smiled widely, pulling her into a hug that made Violet warm.

"Hi guys," she laughed as Frenchie hugged her too, nodding his head to her outfit.

"So he lumped you in too huh," M.M. wondered with a clear look of understanding. And if that wasn't the most refreshing look she had ever received. Back to the same as it was before, the same group, the same people, she was happy if it was just them, but of course Butcher had to come in to ruin it.

He walked in almost awkwardly, staring at the floor like he didn't want to be questioned about what he had just done. Violet watched as he went straight for the coffee machine, barely registering that she was even there. And suppose she shouldn't even be surprised. Amongst Frenchie and M.M. back to gibbering like the couple they were, Kimiko sat back on her desk and nodded to the keyboard beside her. Violet smirked, coming to stand beside her where she saw she had been carving "fuck" into the table. She'd pretend she didn't see that for the notion that she had something that reminded her of her. And Violet then wished she had done the same.