𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 : 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔

metal lips + yangdrey

[ tw : blood, hanahaki, character death ]

Pain.
All he felt was pain.

It came in waves, days or minutes at a time. His lungs were burning, the flames crawled up his throat and dribbled down his lips masked as metallic smelling gold.

Pain killers never worked, sleeping didn't help, crying didn't help.

All he could feel was the intense pinching and choking that came with the the plants growing inside of his chest. They changed often, depending on his mood or how hard he thought about what was happening.

Sometimes he felt thorns, they'd claw at his tissue and cut up his throat enough for him to lose his voice. Sometimes there'd only be silky petals and leaves, they'd catch on his teeth and tongue and he'd have to pull them free and stare down at the thing killing him.

YangYang had gotten good at telling each flower apart, even if the colors were stained with iron.

He'd been handling his situation for a year by now, switching between good days and bad days until it was bad days and worse days. Nothing helped.

Hanahaki, or to throw up flowers. A disease that seemed like something out of fiction.

But this was fiction, the blood on YangYangs hands wasn't fake and the wheeze he let out was not make believe. He was dying, there was a fucking plant killing him.

You may ask, why did he developed such a cruel and outlandish disease? The answer, while simple, was hard to accept.

It's hard to admit that something that is meant to be pure can end a life. How can one explain that affection, love, can kill you. Do you blame? Yourself or the oblivious?

YangYang didn't know if he should feel ashamed for his own misgivings or if he should feel glad. After all, love is meant to be a beautiful thing...so why much he suffer for the way his heart beats?

Why does he have to die when others can fall happily in love and dance for ages. It seems so unfair, but is life ever?

He'll never blame Hendery, not even on his death bed could he think badly of his bestfriend like that.

His best friend, the friend that had slowly stolen his heart and accidentally taken his soul with it. The oblivious bastard who cares more about Post Malone and his puppy to ever think of love and death.

YangYang doesn't think that Hendery knows he's sick, nobody else does. At least, except for their friend Xiaojun.

He's guilty that the older has to watch him struggle behind closed doors. He's accidentally dragged Xiaojun into his spiral of pain and blood to the point that he fears Xiaojun will tell. He can't have that, can never let Hendery ever know he's sick.

He loves his friend, but the other would blame himself for something he never had control over. Something neither of them could have stopped or changed.

YangYang doesn't blame anyone, not even as bright red amaranthus stalks fall from his mouth, the tiny flowers getting stuck in his teeth and under his tongue.

The bathroom is messy, there's handprints on the counter and spit on the floor. His sobs are echoed, the sound catching the tile walls and amplifying as the pain in his body trills. Sometimes he'll pray that this is his time, his final breath.

But of course he'll think of the cause, of Hendery's face and his dumb smile. He'll think of Xiaojun's red eyes the first time he found out. He'll think of Ten, of Lucas, and Kun. Of Renjun, of Chenle and Jisung. Of Haechan and all of his friends.

He'll think of all the shit he'd miss, all the movies and games. He'd think of all of that, until another pulse hits him and his head is right back to resting on the toilet lid.

But now, despite all his thoughts and wishes, he knows there's no getting out this time. He can feel it.

This time, his heart stutters too much and his breathing is too painful. He knows exactly what's happening as his vision blurs and distorts.

He's sad that he doesn't get to say goodbye, not to his mother or Xiaojun. Not to Ten and the others. Not to Hendery, his bestfriend.

He hopes nobody is mad, that they understand. He hopes that Xiaojun doesn't tell who it was, he doesn't want that.

YangYang knows he's crying, his cheeks are wet and his shoulders are shaking. His chest is burning, it's on fire. Suddenly his lungs don't work, he's not sure how to breath anymore...

He whimpers, curling into himself and mumbling in wordless cries. He mouths names and promises, he wishes for something else.

But, pain...

Pain is all he felt,

Until there was none anymore.