Pressed Flowers (Bang Chan X Reader)

I

Y/n pov

Hospitals are boring places.
The white walls, prison like. They trap you inside. Only certain people can allow your escape.

I don't think anyone likes hospitals really. I mean maybe apart from the nurses who actually enjoy helping people. You know, If you are going to hospital, chances are, you're not there for a good reason. If you're going to a hospital you're most likely going because you're sick or someone you know and care about is sick, possibly at risk of death.

Of course we can't forget about the smell of hospitals, they all have the same smell. Cleaning products, such as bleach, have a strong presence of stench, it clogs in your lungs, makes you want to breathe through your mouth, but you then realise, that's worse, you're eating it. But that wouldn't be the worst of what you'd inhale through your mouth in a hospital.

Although, there is one place I enjoy in this hospital. It's the garden. Its greenery envelopes you in a sector of peace. A place you can get away from the stress, the cries of children and their mothers.

Maybe, this is an exaggeration of hospitals. But, I really do hate them. I hate them with a passion. Spending time here, when you know your family is at home without you. They never know if they're going to see you at home again. Or at least with what I have.

My body didn't allow for me to do much. I got exhausted easily. I would have to take frequent breaks as I was walking to the garden from my room.

That's what I was doing, making my way to the garden. But I'd sat down. As I said I get exhausted easily. It's not like the walk is even that far. The nurses offer to take me in a wheel chair. But I want to be alone, nor do I like spending time with other people.

I took a final breath on the seat, before my mind drags my body up. I walked at the pace a snail would travel. But I got there after a long battle.

A door of metal and glass blocked me from my destination. It may seem as if an easy task, but for me, this door, it was my worst enemy. It was the last barrier between the garden and I, the last struggle.

An exhaustion had already set upon my body. Although, I gave it my all, to open the door. Which, thankfully I did.

A wave of fresh air whipped into my nose. I sighed happily at the smell of freedom.

The green and brown bush shrubbery clouded harshly above the dirt. There were, more, delicate, plants. Native flowers blossomed in the harsh Aussie sun of Spring.

A heath plant was right by the door. A traditionally Australian plant spread from behind that, a wattle. Grovillas and Bottle brushes also were planted, both had scraggy foliage, but the flowers remained beautiful.

Slowly and carefully I made my way through the garden. A small thing poked through the green, something blue it was. Curiosity, of course, got the better of me. Waddling, almost, I got to what I had seen.

A tiny thing, it really was. A small blue, almost violet flower was there. For once I had no clue as to what it was. I inspected it closely, five petals sprung from the centre, they pointed delicately at the tips and had a white middle.

Ever so gently my index finger and thumb curled around the stem delicately hold the flower up. My fingers plucked it from the plant from which it belonged. I smiled as the wind sent slight ripples through the petals.

I wondered what this peculiar flower was. It is not something familiar in my head, I couldn't even find an obvious reasoning as to what it could be.

The garden was on the top of the building. You could see off the sides off the side, people would pass by everyday. People you would never see again, but they all had their unique stories. Their own friends and family. In a way, I found it fascinating, I couldn't explain it. It really just was fascinating, or at least in my eyes.

I sat down on the sandstone walls that kept the garden's dirt in place. My hospital gown fluttered as if a butterfly in the soft breeze. The hair on my head whipped against my neck.

The breeze cooled the heat of my face in Aussie sun. I closed my eyes and leant back on my hands, letting them support me.

Caught, damn it. I heard the sound of the door clanging shut. My heart starting beating in a rapid way. This was my spot. My spot to be alone. I thought no one else would be out. It's not like the nurses come out here often, they all go outside of the grounds to have a good ol' ciggie.

My eyes tilt nervously to see who it is. Hopefully not one of those annoying 7 year olds. That may sound mean but they cling to me and harass me so I think it's fair.

To my surprise, it was a person around my age, perhaps a year or so older. He was a guy. A guy that I did not recognise. From what I could see, he had silvery hair that was obviously dyed. He seemed an average height. Although, he did not appear happy and in-fact seemed rather distraught.

It was natural that I felt worried. I reasoned over whether I should approach. I thought it may be a kind gesture, but also knew hey may want to be left alone.

I was stuck, I had no idea what to do. He may really need someone right now. At least if I go over, my heart will be rested as to what he needs. If he needs someone I'll be there for him.

It took a lot to do so. He may not appreciate it and make him more upset, which is honestly what I'm scared for. I don't want to hurt him.

I took a deep breath in before I sat next to him. I felt the cool wood against me, the metal was a hot contrast to it. Although I didn't care too much about that.

"Hey, uh, are you okay?"