VegasPete Oneshots

Azalea

Genre: sad, death

The first time he saw it, Pete was confused.

Holding in his palm, the beautiful pink petal that he had just coughed up.

He would've found it fascinating had he not done research about it later that day.

Pete had hanahaki.

A disease where if you are in unrequited love, then flowers will bloom in your lungs slowly suffocating you to death. The only treatment is surgery, but removing said flowers removes the feelings.

It was hard for him to accept it.

That's impossible. Pete thought feeling an uncomfortable stinging in his throat. No, it can't be. One-sided love doesn't make sense. Vegas loves me.

His train of thought was interrupted by a fit of violent coughing. Pete held onto his chest, one hand covering his throat as his whole body shook.

He felt the delicate petal travel up his throat and land into his palm. And more followed.

Vegas loves me. Pete looked at the pink petals which were littering the space around him. Right?

Pete had decided to ask his boyfriend later that night. To understand what Vegas was really feeling.

"Vegas." The brunette got a small hum for a reply.

The flowers in his throat were growing by the day and Pete was literally dying. Yet he still stuttered over his words, too scared to know the answer.

Perhaps because deep inside, Pete already knew what his lover was feeling, even if he didn't say it.

"Do you still..love me, Vegas?" The older looked up at Pete with a cocked brow. His perfect teeth shone and Vegas nodded. "Of course I do, Pete. What kind of question is that?"

Pete felt the flowers climbing up his throat making it harder for him to breathe. As Vegas left, he held onto the bedsheets beneath his fingertips.

Liar. Tears poked his eyes and he started coughing again, racing to the bathroom.

So many flowers.

So many pink petals that were gathered in the toilet and around the toilet. The sight hurt his eyes.

Gasping as he held onto the sides of the porcelain bowl, Pete tried to muffle his sobs.

Looking down at the petal littered toilet, he couldn't help but feel betrayed as blood mixed in with them.

His body shook like a leaf in the wind, Pete coughing up more petals. These ones were covered in crimson blood, and he could no longer see the pink color.

Leaning against the bathroom wall, Pete's throat hurt. The flowers and growing stems had cut the inside of both his lungs and esophagus.

Is he really going to die like this? In a one-sided love with his boyfriend?

Knocking on the door brought Pete to the real world.

"Babe, I'm going to head out really quickly, okay?"

"O-okay." Pete's voice came out rough and yet Vegas didn't even ask him what was wrong.

Moving from the bathroom to their room, Pete sat on his desk.

Gripping the pen as best as he could in his shaky hands, Pete began scribbling down.

He had to stop a couple times to cough out the petals that were overtaking his lungs, some drops of blood landing on the letter he was writing.

It wasn't until the end of the letter that he got so much worse.

Pete fell off the chair coughing up blood and flower petals. He could feel the flowers growing and expanding, twisting around his lungs until he could no longer breathe.

Every second he was in love with Vegas was another second closer to him dying.

And yet he couldn't let go of these feelings. Couldn't let go of all the beautiful memories they had shared.

Staying on the floor in a puddle of bloodied petals Pete could no longer move.

Breathing became a challenge, even taking shallow breaths was hard for him.

The beautiful azalea flowers had fully managed to capture his body and climb up his throat.

Pete knew he was dying.

There was nothing he could do about it, though.

Even as he was face to face with death, Pete couldn't help but find the disease beautiful in a way. Loving someone so deeply, that gorgeous flowers bloom in your lungs near your heart.

Taking his final breath, Pete thought about Vegas. He thought about his friends and his grandma. How much they'll miss him.

Please don't be too sad.

And his eyes shut.

Pete died, the flowers curling around his lungs, growing at a rapid speed to the rest of his body.

He died before hearing the opening and closing of the door.