Rises the Moon

the beginning, the end

Ryans eyes flitted up towards the sky as he stared at every detail around him. One last time - and as he stared, he felt relief. Not hope of something or someone to save him, not wonder or curiosity over what came next. But relief. Because this is the fate for those who deserve it, and it has finally come to take over him. He smiled. '"I'm sorry I loved you."

-

Cherry blossoms and dahlias had always been Ryan's favorite flowers. Though he hadn't expected to die at their grip - to feel the sharp, budding pain of duranta thorns against his chest. But the moment that sharp prick and the honeydew scent were present inside of him, he knew it was too late. He couldn't confess his love. He'd tried ignoring these sprouting feelings when they began as a crush - they were simple and innocent and pure, and everything he wasn't but wanted to be. So he waited, because he wasn't ready to ruin another man by loving him.

-

10 months was all it took for Ryan Bergara to really, truly fall in love. He'd tried so hard to push away the fluttering feelings of admiration, lust and disgust that took over him at every small glance, wishing he could snap his fingers to rid himself of whatever curse had been placed upon his soul. But at night, when no one else was around to hear his woes and judge his sins, it lay barren, and he reveled in it, in this feeling he could never allow himself to feel. Perhaps that made all of this so much worse. But he couldn't find it within himself to care.

-

10 weeks was all it took for Ryan Bergara to begin to die. It started with a chest pain, so small and insignificant he'd hardly noticed it. But the pain grew as his love did, his lungs beginning to fill with a mixture of flowers and blood as the days went on. He would catch the other man's gaze and hold it for a second too long, and feel the overwhelming need to sprint to the bathroom to rid his stomach of the vines that grow there. He knew what this was. He knew there was only one way to live the rest of his life without missing a part of himself, and he was too selfish of a man to let that go. If he was to die, he would bring a piece of his love with him, and it would rot alongside the gardens of his body. Because Ryan Bergara was a selfish man, but altruistic enough to choose death for himself over ruining another man's pure soul with a love that festered in his own.

-

10 days was all it took for Ryan Bergara's world to shatter around him. He'd made peace with his own death and the gorgeously nightmarish nature of it, he'd made peace with spending the rest of his days pretending not to choke on his own blood every time he passed him in the halls, and he'd made peace with letting his love die inside himself. But he'd never thought he'd be the one spending days at a time sobbing and praying at the side of another man hooked to whirring machines in a bed of white sheets and red splotches. He'd never thought he would be the last to go, the one to be made standing by a sterile bedside and holding the hand of the man he loved as the gut wrenching sound of a flatline tore through the air and into his ears. He'd never thought he'd be the one crumpled on the hospital floor as nurses and doctors fled by, making pathetic attempts at saving this man he'd loved so. He'd made peace with his own death, but he'd never stopped to think of the earth-shattering blow it may have had, just as the death of this man diminished him to a pile of tears and nothingness. He'd never stopped to think of just how cold it is outside during spring if you lay unmoving in the rain.

-

10 hours was all it took for Ryan Bergara to finally succumb to the garden blooming within himself. It began with a cough. Just a cough. No blood, no petals, no thorns - no air. Then, as if a floodgate opened within his chest and the only passage was his throat, blood and petals and his lunch two days ago spilled out upon the ground as new flowers began budding and spreading in their wake. The vines began snaking their way out of Ryan's mouth and around the cold stone he was leaned up against.

-

The vines bloomed their own flowers then, as his skin split in places and soil and daffodils took over. He leaned his head back against the cool marble and thought his last thoughts, breathed his last breath, smiled his last smile. Spoke his last words - the words not a single soul would ever hear, and he was glad for that. This was their moment. "I'm sorry I loved you." And he smiled as his eyes glazed over and he finally crumbled to soil, a beautiful garden spreading around the grave of his could-have-been-lover.

10 minutes was all it took for night to fall, shrouding the graveyard in a darkness only faltered by the light of the moon. 10 seconds was all it took for someone to crush the flowers underneath their feet as they walked past, uncaring. 10 years was all it took for the dead to be forgotten.

aaaand scene! hanahaki has always been something that really tugs at my heart strings, and i love seeing alternative takes on it, so i decided to try my own hand! i don't have the best writing skills by far, but i really enjoyed writing this, and i hope you (whoever you are) enjoyed reading it! <3