The Withering of Inflorescence || Junhui × Joshua

💔 Hanahaki 💔

This is an angst guys!!! With a character death scene (well really if you want to put it that way). Read at your own risks. I can only provide you with my half finished box of tissues, nothing else.

And I kinda rushed through the middle parts of this story and I will come here later for the improvements but the story is complete so...... enjoy ig.....

And I feel so bad for my precious little kitten, Junnie 😭😭😭😭 and my babie, Joshua 😭😭😭I love you, Junnie and Shua, I promise 😭😭😭

And like I really worked hard on this story so if you like it please show it some love and do let me know in the comments.

Once again, it's just a story guys and treat it like one!

Well anyway, on with the story~

________________________________________________________________________

Pain. Pain. So much pain.

Pain, is all Junhui feels when he doubles over with yet another fit of punishingly violent coughs wracking his chest. He places a hand right in the middle of his chest in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain but it helps nothing. Instead he feels as if the skin under his palm is searing but the blood collecting in his other hand, the one cupping his mouth, distracts him enough to not pay attention to the discomfort in his chest.

They stop after a few moments, allowing the dancer a moment's peace. He scrambles forward to scoop some water from the bathtub with his bloodied hands and slurps some of it to soothe the burning in his throat. Barely anything happens. They still feel as if someone had rubbed them with a strong sand paper for atleast thirty minutes before rubbing them with salt and chillies for another thirty minutes. The pain in his chest returns threefold and only then he registers he can't breathe properly.

Just great!

His legs had long given up on holding his weight and he had been sitting beside the tub for who knows how long but his body still feels as if it's being pricked by pins and needles. So he tries lying down instead. There's darkness spotting his blurry vision and his head feels as if it's been emptied and been filled with soft cotton instead. It's hard to do anything in this condition but he still pats his hand blindly around himself in search of anything that could obscure his lying down process. He vaguely registers his fingers touching some soft and delicate things, almost like flower petals, which definitely doesn't belong in the washroom but doesn't think much about it. Mostly because he can't. His head feels as if it's been emptied and been filled with soft cotton instead.

Slowly, very slowly, he lowers himself to the ground. Cold instantly seeped in through his drenched clothes, hitting his heated skin. He relaxed into that, turning his head to softly nuzzle against the hard floor. The pounding in his head lowered lightly at that.

Good. It felt good.

He thought. Too soon, for just after the thought another violent cough broke out of his bleeding throat and he instantly choked onto something. His hands flew up to his throat instantly, spreading the crimson of them onto the unblemished skin of his neck. He curled in on himself to shield himself from the pain within before heaving forward with a dry gag. The choking sensation didn't seem to go away at that or anytime soon. In a moment the sensation turned unbearable and irritating to Junhui. Fresh set of tears started streaming down his sore and partially blinded eyes. The hands at the base of his throat started scratching and pressuring the area in an attempt to get rid of the thing at the root of his discomfort.

At one point he pressed down on his throat with a little extra effort and instantly started spluttering when another fit of coughs started tormenting his throat. Way softer this time compared to all his other previous fits, to the point he doubted if they could even get the thing lodged in his throat out. Nonetheless, when he felt a particularly harsh cough building in his throat he cupped his mouth, almost out of instinct, and before he could register he was already gasping for breathes on the floor and the choking sensation was gone. Instead, he felt something sitting on his hand, something other than blood, something soft and smooth. He clutched his hand, trapping the small thing in his fist before letting the closed fist fall beside his head, utterly tired and spent.