petals 〡doubleb. (on hold)

prologue

Hanbin was in his and Bobby's shared room alone at the dorm, sobbing and weeping quietly.

He then felt the familiar itchy, dry feeling of his throat. He covered his mouth and started coughing, a petal coming out.

not again, Hanbin thought, dashing his way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately for Hanbin, he caught the rare Hanahaki disease, he always thought this was fictional. It was supposed to be fictional. But right now, it's happening and it's very likely to be real.

It's been three months. Three months of pining, throwing up flowers, pining again. The cycle goes on.

Hanbin spent three months suffering and slowly dying from it.

And so there he was, knees on the cold tiled bathroom floor, hunched over the toilet bowl.

Hanbin kept on throwing up petals when he suddenly choked on something that really hurt his throat. It kept forcing its way up, out of his throat. He gripped his neck, wheezing desperately to breathe.

The petals, so mockingly beautiful, like to cling on every surface of his larynx.  Through teary vision, he could see the red-stained daffodil that emerged from his mouth.

Hanbin continued throwing up the daffodils gathered inside him, despite struggling to breathe and its stems scratching his throat, forcing their way out of his mouth and into the cool water of the toilet bowl.

He stared at the daffodils slowly swirling around the blood-tinted water, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he pants in exhaustion.

Flowers were supposed to look lovely, mesmerizing, and ethereal. At this point, Hanbin isn't sure what to think of flowers anymore.

He sighed, standing up with shaky limbs as he flushes the stained daffodils down and cleaning up the remaining mess.

Hanbin washes his hands and face. He also brushes his teeth, getting rid of the blood he could still taste.

He goes back inside, sitting down on his bed as he reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand. He gulps a reasonable amount to moisten his dry throat from all the retching.

Hanbin settles his glass back on the nightstand as he collapses on the bed, burying his face on the pillow.

Hanbin hated this. How the petals he'd cough out, how the flowers he'd throw up, how these symptoms in general would remind him of the love he had for Bobby. And how he's continuosly reminded that his love for him would never be returned. How it would just be one-sided. Just unrequited love.

Thinking of it again, Hanbin pines in painful silence. It hurt more than the actual Hanahaki disease itself.

Hanbin will fall out of love. It's just with as someone as bright and amazing as Kim Jiwon, it'll just take some more time, he convinces himself.

However with the way his breathing stays labored and his chest throbbing with pain, Hanbin wonders how much time he really has left.