The kingdom of Harold has turned into turmoil, and he sits, waiting for it to burn.

If I closed my eyes, I knew, I knew I would make out a small dark butterfly, fluttering off his chest. Sashaying right and left, no knowledge of how to fly. I could imagine the thing, flapping with too much strength, getting tired. Sitting, sleeping. Wilting away. And somehow, someway Harry would bring it back, set it back on his milky chest, and share his own breath, his own heart, to keep this creature alive

Harry was a happy outgoing teenager, then he was diagnosed with epilepsy. It turns his world upside down. He struggles to cope, but has his best friend, Louis to help him through.