He was walking through the damp green grass in the hospital gardens –the only place resembling normality –where he sought for peace, iPod in hand, deeply appreciative of the silence that the solitude presented him.

Ever since he lost his voice, he wasn’t very comfortable around anyone that talked, sang or made any kind of sound. The idea bothered him, as if somehow, the fact that he had no voice while everyone still had theirs was being rubbed in his face. Only the music he’d once sang so beautifully gave him solace. And even that pained him.

She sat there, still in the ankle-high grass. Her light hair shone against the faint light of the full moon and ruffled as a sweet breeze blew.

She seemed unaware of the fact that it was dangerous out, and sighed as if she’d just thought of the most wonderful thing in the world. Suddenly, as if sensing someone behind her, she turned, giving him full view of the brightest brown in the world. It was almost as if the whole world was in black and white, and her eyes alone retained color –but her face was marred with a long wound that extended from below her eye down past her jaw.

For a moment, it looked like she was about to run away, but she froze.

To her, his presence was peculiar –made more so by the bewildered expression on his face –almost as if to him, the fact that she was there was unwarranted. He stood motionless, some three feet away from her, his torso facing her, but his body turned just a bit, ready to run away at the least inkling of something doubtful.

He didn’t seem to have any intentions of stepping over to her, so she stood up, straightened her dress and skipped towards him like it was the most normal thing in the world. Without nary a second thought, she started walking around him, quietly assessing what she was seeing.

He was slender, accent