The feeling of sunlight on his face. Warmth. Light.

 

The smell of summer grass with dew mixing with his hair and whole body, making him become one with the nature around him.

 

The rustle of the leaves all around him, above him and next to him and somewhere in the distance, whispering of long-forgotten legends in his native language.

 

Was this home?

 

Baekhyun slowly opened his eyes, blue skies and high trees watching above him, as if waving to him in greeting. He was lying beneath an unknown tree and it seemed as if the movement of the sun on the sky had woken him up, nudging him out of the safety of the tree’s shade and into the open light.

 

He wished he stayed in that spot forever. But someday, the day would have to end and then he would find himself in the darkness.

 

Wasn’t he in the darkness already?

 

He had lost her… Just yesterday, or a couple of days ago, he couldn’t remember correctly. They had taken her away from him and then disappeared as if nothing had ever happened in the first place, and he couldn’t even blame anyone because they were just mindless soldiers in a game far more important than anything.

 

He did not understand why they’d done that to her. No, he understood why, he just couldn’t understand how. Papaya had realized that working openly against the guardians would never bring her to success, so she’d thought up a plan where she’d kill her identical twin and then start posing as her.

 

It worked out perfectly - everyone believed that SM was beaten. They even called her Aya, because of which Baekhyun ended up fighting his brothers in a fit of blinding rage. But no matter how much he screamed or explained, it didn’t work. They all looked at him with pity, as if the fairytale in which they believed was actually true and Baekhyun was just crazy.

 

She didn’t go anywhere near him, though, and in a way, that irritated him more than if she were drooling all over him and begging for him to realize that she was his aeri or whatever. He couldn’t understand what she was trying: if her ultimate goal was making him, the only one who wasn’t falling for her tricks, believe that her disguise was actually the truth, why was she doing such an awful job at it?

 

But that must’ve been some part of her plan, too, so Baekhyun stayed on watch, never letting his guard down, trying to avoid her as much as he could.

 

As he got up, the sunlight still shining upon him, and started walking through the woods, he remembered what happened yesterday, and how Sehun slapped him after he’d failed in fighting against the wish to murder Papaya and jumped on her, managing to get in a couple of punches before his brother appeared to stop him.

 

“This is becoming too serious, Baekhyun!” he’d shouted at him, pulling him by the collar. “I know you’ve been tortured out of your mind, but I know you can fight this out. Stop hurting her already - can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”

 

He’d refused to glance at Papaya. He’d refused to get tricked. The only thing he could see in his mind was his aeri’s smile, and no matter how much she tried to pull it off, no matter how many people she managed to fool, he would not let her do that to him. He would not disgrace the memory of Aya like that.

 

So Sehun had slapped him, and told him that he was a disgrace, and that he was not his brother anymore.

 

And now Baekhyun was here, in these woods, not knowing how he’d gotten here but thinking that he’d probably run away in anger and despair and fallen asleep underneath a tree, hoping to forget the world that had fallen apart and that could never be brought back to one piece.

 

He let his feet carry him through the woods as he got lost in thought once again. He wondered how he’d uncover Papaya’s deception but found no clear answer, because he didn’t remember the details - if he’d ever even remembered them. Why was Sehun’s hair a healthy shade of brown again? Where on Earth did they get the energy that’d keep them alive? He couldn’t remember much of anything - where his brothers were, how they were all doing, and he frowned as he tried hard to find the information he knew must’ve existed in his mind somewhere, but he couldn’t find them anywhere.

 

He stopped in his tracks, feeling very strange all of a sudden. Something started gnawing at his insides, feeling like nervousness, or excitement - he did not know.

 

Baekhyun blinked, focusing on his surroundings once again, only to be welcomed by a sea of violet. The color struck him in its entirety, making him feel dizzy. The smell of violets was all around him, and he wondered how he hadn’t snapped to his senses from its intensity earlier.

 

But that wasn’t what was making his stomach flutter.

 

He was either dead, or dreaming.

 

She was frozen in a leaning position, her arm extended with her hand on a violet flower, and she was holding a basket half-filled with violet flowers in her other arm.

 

Her dress was the color of the cleanest white, and her eyes were two shining hazelnuts looking at him and breaking him into the smallest pieces that would stay in that violet field forever.

 

The violet started slowly seeping into his fingers, painting him in the color of her.

 

She was frozen, her eyes widening slowly, but he knew it was her.

 

“Aeri,” he couldn’t help but whisper.

 

Baekhyun did not know anything. Who he was, why his hair was brown or black now - he didn’t know for sure, why Papaya was posing as the love of his life, why everyone else was falling for her tricks, nothing mattered anymore.

 

Nothing but the fact that her hair was freely swaying in the gentle wind.

 

“Baekkie,” she whispered back after a moment. “Baekkie, is everything alright?”

 

She blinked and retreated her arm, and he could do nothing but stare at her.

 

He’d know her between a million clones. Papaya looked identical, yes, but she was nothing like the person before him now. She’d never blush the same way she did, blinking fast as her gaze lowered in embarrassment. She’d never bite her lip the same way because she wanted to say something but felt too shy to do so.

 

She’d never melt beneath his hungry gaze the same way his aeri would. She could try as much as she wanted, but she would never be even one percent like her.

 

He’d know her, always.

 

“Now that you’re here,” he said, his voice swimming with emotion, “Everything is alright.”

 

He then grabbed her arm and pushed her towards himself, immediately finding with his own and swallowing her gasp.

 

He did not care that her hair wasn’t covered by a shawl. He did not care that he’d held her broken body in his hands mere days ago, sobbing and shattering, to stay hollow forever.

 

He did not care.

 

The violet reached his elbows now as the duo slowly sank into the grass and she complied regardless of obviously wanting to protest and talk everything out, responding to his feverish kisses and winding her fingers into his hair. He lay her down gently, nothing but aeri aeri aeri aeri in his mind or heart. No questions, no wondering, no regrets.

 

Nothing but her.

 

“I love you,” he said through a gasp as they broke the kiss to breathe, just to unite again after a second. He couldn’t get enough of her - it’d never be enough, because he’d lost her and now she was here and he needed her to be real or he was going to die.

 

Her hands were desperate, seemingly searching for something all over his skin, touching his whole face and neck and finding his own, equally nervous and aimless hands and intertwining them. He would’ve been content just kissing her in that field of violets forever, their flowery scent combined with her own putting him in a daze that would never lift.

 

Would the day have to end?

 

Could he stay in this dream forever?

 

The violet now reached his shoulders, and he knew he would start drowning soon enough.

 

Not long after, he felt that her cheeks were wet, and he opened his eyes in astonishment, just to see the image of something indiscernible in tear-swimming hazelnuts.

 

He did not know whether it was extreme happiness or sadness, but somehow, he felt that it was a mixture of both.

 

“Aeri, what’s wrong?” Baekhyun questioned softly, wanting to do anything to make the tears go away. He wiped them away with his thumbs but left his fingers on her face as he lay down in the grass next to her and turned her towards him.

 

The brown amongst all the violet was the color of his heart, both colors vivid and bright but deep and thoughtful at the same time.

 

“Baekhyun, why is my hair not wrapped up in a shawl?” she said with an emotion he deciphered as desperacy, sniffing as she looked at him, searching for something in his face.

 

“I was about to ask you that,” he said, raising his eyebrow. “It’s not like you would’ve given up the hijab all of a sudden… so I guess I must be writing it off as a silly dream, that’s all…”

 

He trailed off and she closed her eyes, shaking her head slightly. “How do you know I’m not her then, Baekhyun?” She opened her eyes all of a sudden, her gaze now a dagger striking something deep within his heart. “How can you know?”

 

Whatever it was that the dagger striked, it wasn’t important, because Baekhyun didn’t feel confused the least. He smiled and wound his fingers in her beautiful hair, enjoying the moment. “I feel it’s you, aeri. The look in your eyes, the way your face changes expressions, the way you move, it’s all distinctly you and nobody can ever copy that.”

 

She sobbed loudly then and quickly put a hand on , but it didn’t mask what Baekhyun had already recognized - she was sad, he was making her this way and he didn’t know why.

 

“Tell me,” he said slowly, nudging her hand until she let him take it.

 

Then he saw a golden ring on her finger.

 

He had never seen it before. It was beautiful - it looked just like something he’d buy for her, something he’d want her to wear for the rest of her life and that would eternally show everyone whose woman she was.

 

He couldn’t understand how it was on her finger. “Aeri, what is that?” he asked, panic seeping into his voice. The violets stopped their journey, stopping before coloring his chest forever.

 

She gasped and quickly withdrew her hand, shaking her head wildly. “Nothing, Baekhyun, it’s nothing,” she asked with more panic than he felt, and it was a lot alright.

 

The fact that the ring wasn’t in front of his face anymore didn’t change a thing - she was hiding something from him, and that was very unlike her. Was she…

 

“Aeri, are you…” he said slowly, not daring to finish the thought. It hung in the air, unfinished and terrifying, while he tried to connect the dots. She wasn’t wearing the hijab, she was picking up violet flowers alone in the woods, she had a golden ring…

 

The panic slowly disappeared from her face, and it became familiar to him once again as the hazelnut gaze settled on him.

 

“Baekkie,” she said slowly, and he summoned up all his patience in order not to rush her. “Baekkie, close your eyes.”

 

“Okay,” he said as he did so immediately - he trusted her with his whole being, no matter how complicated the situation in front of him seemed. He expected her to try to calm him down with a kiss, but he was welcome by the strong scent of violets after a couple of moments.

 

He would’ve opened his eyes instinctively, had he not heard her calming voice whisper, “Keep your eyes closed and just focus on the scent, Baekkie.”

 

Baekhyun did so, inhaling the scent deeply and once again wanting to forever stay surrounded by the violets and his aeri, his only and true love.

 

“I’m sorry, Baekhyun,” he heard her say, but it sounded as if it was far, far away. He felt dizzy and wanted to open his eyes but found that he couldn’t - he was suddenly so, so tired that he couldn’t do anything but keep inhaling the scent of the violets.

 

“I’m sorry that I did this to you,” her faraway voice kept talking and he wanted to ask her what she was talking about, but nothing but a muffled whimper came out of his mouth. He felt that he was going to sink into unconsciousness soon, but there were too many things he didn’t understand, too much he needed to clear up and he didn’t want to lose her, not now when he’d finally found her.

 

No, it was all just a big, beautiful and very vivid dream.

 

“Don’t be afraid,” he barely heard her say. “When you wake up, I’ll be here. And you’ll remember who you are, and that we’d married a long time ago, Baekkie. And for some time, you’ll be yourself and everything will be fine.”

 

Don’t believe her, he heard a far louder echo in his head. She is just a product of your messed-up mind, Baekhyunnie.

 

His head hurt, and the scent of violets was too strong - he tried to move away from it, but had no strength to move. He could barely even feel his own body anymore.

 

“The violets will make you feel better. I would’ve given you the cure sooner, but this year they were late…”

 

Baekhyun’s mind shut down. He couldn’t follow any of the words echoing in his head anymore, couldn’t decipher what any of it was about or think at all. He just wanted to slip into the darkness and sleep for a little while.

 

How desperate must you have been, when you’d made up a whole fairytale in your mind that you run to when it gets too much for you? The voice in his head laughed, and instead of getting thicker, the darkness slowly lifted and revealed the image of his aeri with a twisted expression on her face.

 

“Jessica’d used my powers on you too many times, Baekkie,” he heard from the distance, “So you keep forgetting about everything. But I won’t give up on you.”

 

Finally, you’re awake again, Papaya said and his blood froze upon seeing the needle in her hands. Now let’s get back to where we were before you lost consciousness on me, baby.

 

Baekhyun screamed and trashed, but he was immobilized - he couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything as he felt the knife cutting into his skin, and soon enough there was nothing but pain all around him.

 

“I’m sorry that I can’t help you through this, Baekkie. But it’ll pass soon. And I’ll be here with you the whole time.”

 

Baekhyun could do nothing but scream and scream as his essence was taken away from him and he felt crooked and foreign, as if a part of his soul seeped into that syringe along with it.

 

No matter how vivid, dreams were just that in the end - dreams.

 

And dreams were not real.

 

Was she, though?

 

Was he lying asleep in the violet field somewhere, while she held him and waited for him to wake up, remembering the events that could be nothing but an utopian dream and not being scarred and messed-up like he was in reality, doomed to have his essence taken away from him over and over again until nothing was left and he was thrown away like a ragged doll, useless and empty?

 

The smell of violets persisted, though.

 

He would focus on it until he became numb and the pain was no more.

 

He would focus on her watchful hazelnut eyes among the flowers.

 

His love. His wife.

 

Perhaps, when he woke up, he would remember everything.

 

Even if waking up meant falling asleep.

 

Hopefully this time, he’d never wake up.