DEH Oneshots/drabbles/shitposts

Bloodfall (Zared)

She was so fucking done with bathrooms.

Zoe Murphy hated herself with a passion in the moment she had to run from her bedroom into the bathroom, gaining Connor, her concerned brother's attention. She held onto the toilet bowl for what seemed like an eternity, but she had been there at least four times that night.

She was tired of it.

The blood in the toilet bowl stained it scarlet, her trembling fingers catching some of the sticky red substance. It dropped from her finger into the red, rose petal water below her.

Drip, drip, drip.

She was stuck.

Drip, drip, drip.

And it was all his fault.

Zoe Murphy had been diagnosed with Hanahaki disease at the age of fifteen, when her small crush on a boy she didn't care to remember, flourished into a tiny seedling of a daisy in her throat. There was no blood back then, only flowers. It was only flowers and tiny crushes. It was just flowers and spit and dry mouth and a sore throat. It was only flowers that Zoe could keep forever, because when she coughed them up, they maintained their shape and color so perfectly for the rest of Zoe's life.

But then Zoe met Jared Kleinman, and everything changed.

She met him at a Hanahaki support group, believe it or not.

The boy was short, and outgoing, with a little bit of stubble and crooked teeth. His eyes were crossed, half the time, which drew attention to his dark rimmed glasses, and his pale skin was covered in acne. Looks were average. He was the slightest bit overweight, despite claiming that he worked out on the daily. He only wore one pair of shoes; a pair of ratty old slip on vans, though his assortment of graphic socks was astounding. Jared picked his nose often, and cracked sexual humor every time he possibly could, even if Zoe would beg him to stop. He was a decent artist with a big dream to go into graphic design, but he got average grades and made less than minimum wage at work.

Zoe was almost the complete opposite. She dressed in clean cut, sleek, but trendy clothing. Her hair was always perfectly done, whether in bouncy curls or thrown into a messy bun (which she made look professional). She often opted for boots or converse to wear in public. Zoe believed in a higher power. Zoe believed that everything she did right would help her in the long run. Her sense of humor was never degrading. Her happy smile was on her everywhere she went, or, used to go.

The only thing Jared Kleinman and Zoe Murphy had in common was their age and their disease.

Yet, Zoe was obsessed with the overbearingly obnoxious teenager from the get go.

There was something about his crooked smile that made her straight one seem even more perfect. His sandy short hair made hers seem so much silkier and beautiful. There was something about the way his hands shook when he spoke that made her hands seem to shake less.

He complimented her imperfections, and she fell in love with his.

Blood.

Zoe knows that she was getting worse, but the only person she trusted to tell was the very person who made her like this.

He was the reason the blood started.

He was the reason Zoe Murphy was slowly dying.

He was the reason she was slowly running out of flowers in her system.

She was the reason his were coming out as well.

Zoe and Jared had Hanahaki, yes, but they were cursed with the kind that ruined their lives.

For them, the reciprocated feelings weren't enough to cure them of the evergreen seedlings in their stomachs, in their lungs.

They had to know.

They had to know for a fact that the other loved them back, or they'd be doomed to suffer.

That's why Jared Kleinman was two houses over, kneeling in the same position over the toilet, tears in his eyes.

It was the most painful feeling for him, because he knew that she was just like him.

And fuck, he loved her.

Jared Kleinman fell in love with Zoe Murphy the first time she laughed at one of his god awful disgusting jokes.

It was her laugh that pulled him in. It was her voice. She had the richest, almost low chuckle. Nothing that you would expect from a nice, clean cut, seventeen year old girl such as herself.

It was something about her that broke her pristine facade and showed who she truly was. Zoe was the type of girl who didn't disguise her laugh. She was the type of girl to chuckle loudly, without a care, if she found what was said or done funny.

Sometimes she would laugh so hard that her mascara would run down her cheeks in a stream of happy, salty, blackened teardrops. That was when Jared really saw it, when she did that. She had nothing to hide. She rarely wore any makeup besides the lash coating, which made her freckles pop out even more to him. Zoe didn't hide anything. She didn't hide from anyone.

Too bad Jared was hiding from her, even if it did spell out his inevitable doom.

Jared knelt over the toilet, wrenching out the small pedals. They were tulip pedals—Zoe's favorite. He remembered once he saw her with blue tulips peaking out of her beautiful mousy brown hair. When he'd asked why, she simply replied, "It's a fashion statement."

That was another thing: her confidence. Jared Kleinman longed for the confidence that Zoe Murphy possessed. She could wear beautifully short shorts on hot days. She could speak her mind and hold nothing back. She held nothing back, ever.

At least Jared thought she didn't.

Drip, drip, drip.

Jared felt the flowers escape his mouth in more of a stream, with minimal seeds dropping into the toilet. It was a steady waterfall.

A bloodfall.

He was dying.

You have two options. You lay down and die, or you tell her how you feel.

Jared chose the second option.

With shaky legs, he stood, blood still dripping from his mouth onto the bathroom floor. He shook his head, wiping his chin. His bony fingers gripped the doorknob, tears beginning to mix with the blood.

He tried to wipe the tears away, but they were uncontrollable, and red.

A sudden burst of adrenaline cane over Jared as he realized how close he was to actually dying. He stumbled down the stairs, throwing open his door. He left a trail of blood where he went. It dropped on the pavement.

Drip, drip, drip.

Bloodfall

Jared Kleinman reaches the Murphy household.

Drip, Drip, Drip.

It starts flowing faster.

Drip, Drip, Drip!

Jared busts open the bathroom door.

"Zoe!"

Zoe Murphy lead against the toilet, blood surrounding her head, a small rosebud growing out of her left eye.

Jared, even in his weak state, managed to pull her into a sitting position and press a kiss to her chapped, bloody lips. "I'm so sorry."

Bloodfall.

The rosebud fell into his lap.

Jared looked up at Zoe, squeezing her shoulder.

"You love me back."

—a/n—

I love this but it's only 1205 words

I hope you do too

I love you my Carcrashovercastyoungbloods

-Emily aka foblvr.