Dear Author is back with an update XD

The grass felt cool and soft on his back as Baekhyun rested on the ground. The swish of the leaves and the perfume of the nearby lilac bushes was strong in his nose. He was in a new place, outside the hospital walls. It had been a long time, and this was the first time he let himself relax –even if the nurses AND the doctor, not to mention his therapist would give him a wigging for laying down on the cold ground.

            His consciousness had just started slipping away when he felt a hard bump on his shin, followed by a soft cry of pain. He pushed himself up on his elbows, searching for where the cry had come from. Near his feet, lying on the ground was a bundle of white fabric and twisted strands of dark hair that he recognized as Wren.

            Baekhyun scrambled to his and helped Wren straighten up.

            She whirled around, dusting herself, and the white dress she wore –she looked quite different without the hospital garb. “What are your feet doing -?” She stopped suddenly when she saw his face. “Baekhyun?” Her face mirrored surprise.

            He smiled and apologized.

            “No, I-I’m alright. Don’t worry about me,” she muttered, aware of the amused expression he had on his face. “Worry about yourself. You’re not supposed to be out here after five.”

            He cleared his throat and began to speak. “You’re here.” His voice lost some of the hoarseness, but it still sounded like a lung cancer victim’s huffing. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

            “I’m allowed out on Sundays,” she said, with a hint of defensiveness. “I’m not here for constant therapy. And I go to church.” She sniffed and looked back towards the lilac bushes that bordered the ward’s well-hidden iron fence. “I didn’t notice the lilacs started blooming again.”

            Baekhyun shook his head. The longer he knew her, the harder he found it to follow her train of thought. She was like some sort of fairy creature –or butterfly, and not as much of an angel as he first made her out to be. The harder he tried to catch her and pin her down, the less he grasped. And the more he tried, the less he wanted to know, because it felt like as soon as he saw her wholly, she’d disappear. “Wren.”

            She turned to him, then to the sunset in the distance. “I should go back.”

            He caught her arm. “It wo