Sungyeol’s strong hand was intertwined with mine against the bleached white hospital sheets.  Even though I could not see his face, I knew his expression was one of quiet contemplation.  Sure enough, when he spoke, it was in his serious, thoughtful voice.  “You know what’s one thing I want to share with you?”Too weak from all the treatment to respond, I could only move my forefinger slightly sideways: No.“I want to show you the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” he said softly.A sunset?  Sunrise?  I wondered.  As though he could read my mind, he chuckled, “Nothing conventional, don’t worry.  That’s not Lee Sungyeol’s style.”A pause, and then, “Back in Gyeonggi-do, there was a field some distance from my home.  One day, when I cycled there, crying about my latest failed exam, I saw something that lifted my spirits: a field of butterflies, flitting around as the late evening sun shone on them.  I want you to see it.”“She didn’t tell you?  She has a phobia of butterflies,” my mother explained.  She had slipped into the room so silently neither of us had noticed, and heard the last part.“Ah, really?” he was trying to hide it, but I could hear the disappointment.  Then he brightened.  “I’ll find a way around it!”  ForewordFor Finding Hope: Angst Writing CompetitionPrompt: pictureFor Never Stop Dreaming | Writing Contest | Round 1Prompt: 23 (& 17, 31, 60) For ￦!Ld ¢u®$!v3: ￦®!t!ng ¢ont3$t CREDIT FOR GRAPHICS : yatluvg @ g-way graphics shop