Chapter 3

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Y/N's POV:

The bell clanged, signaling the end of class. I scrambled to gather my things, my heart pounding in my chest.

I felt a pressure in my head, like a tight band squeezing my temples. I needed to get out of there.

I swiped my bag off the chair and practically bolted out of the classroom, ignoring the curious glances of my classmates.

"Y/N!" I heard a familiar voice call out behind me. My friend, Yuna, was catching up to me, her usual goofy grin plastered on her face.

I turned to face her, trying to breathe evenly, though my chest felt tight.

"You're not coming to Art Club today either?" Yuna asked, her eyebrow raised in concern.

"Yeah, I think I'm done with it," I replied, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. "I'm tired of it."

"Done? Wait, what? What about the Frieze Seoul Art Exhibition? You were so excited," she exclaimed, her eyes wide with confusion.

I sighed, a wave of exhaustion washing over me. "Ah, yeah, Frieze," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

I couldn't bring myself to tell her why I wasn't interested in anything anymore, not even art.

How could I explain to my friends that I was running out of time? That my life was measured in months, maybe even weeks. No, that was a secret I had to keep buried, a heavy weight I carried alone.

Before Yuna could press further, another voice chimed in. "Hey, how are you guys?"

It was Jiyoon, my other friend, his bright energy a stark contrast to my own gloomy mood. But Yuna didn't reply.

"Hey, what's going on?" she asked, stopping in her tracks and turning to face me. "Ever since your bike accident, you're all different."

Jiyoon waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, no, no, no," he said, his voice bubbling with optimism.

He then gave me a bear hug, squeezing me tight. "Your knees are all better! You're good as new!"

I just stood there, frozen, as Jiyoon's arms tightened around me. His words felt empty, a hollow echo in my ears. Yuna, sensing my discomfort, called out to Jiyoon, her voice tinged with warning.

"Hey!" she said, her tone sharp. "Give him some space!"

With a gentle push, Jiyoon and I managed to break free from Jinwoo's embrace. "Get off," I said, trying to inject a playful tone into my words, but it came out sounding strained.

"Get off," Yuna repeated, her voice firm, her gaze fixed on Jiyoon.

"What's going on, Y/N?" She smacked me lightly on the chest, her eyes searching mine for answers.

I avoided her gaze, my heart sinking further. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice barely a murmur. "My bus is coming." I turned and walked away, my steps heavy, the weight of my secret pressing down on me.

The city bus, a familiar haven, offered a brief respite from the anxieties gnawing at me.

I sank into a seat, the familiar rumble of the engine providing a sense of grounding.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the myriad notifications, seeking some distraction.

I pressed the button to signal my stop, the announcement blaring: "Next stop, Flower Shop."

My head snapped up. I hadn't even realized we were near the hospital. And the flower shop? That was a new addition.

As the bus pulled alongside the shop, I couldn't tear my gaze away. The vibrant rows of flowers, bursting with color, seemed to beckon to me.

Maybe a flower was what Hanni needed.

I stepped off the bus and entered the shop, the sweet scent of lilies and roses filling my senses. A middle-aged woman, looked up from behind the counter.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" she asked, her smile warm and welcoming.

"Huh?" I stammered, feeling a sudden rush of self-consciousness.

"For your girlfriend?" she chuckled softly.

"Uh, no," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"You look a little stressed," she remarked, observing me with a thoughtful expression.

I crouched down, examining the vast array of colorful blooms. "I'm visiting a friend in the hospital," I finally said.

"I wouldn't recommend a potted plant. They're considered unlucky, you know? Their roots are said to have a bit of disease," she explained, her voice soft but firm.

I nodded, unsure how to respond.

"Hey, how about something like this?" she suggested, picking up a bunch of flowers. Each petal, delicate yet resilient, stretched out like rays of sunshine, forming a perfect circle around a textured central disk.

I was immediately drawn to the flowers. "Oh wow, yeah. They got a lot of color," I said, my breath catching in my throat. "They look painted."

"Those are Gerberas," she said, her eyes twinkling. "There are two thousand kinds of them."

"Two thousand?" I exclaimed, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

She nodded. "All have different meanings. But it doesn't matter which type you choose, none of them have any negative connotation. It's quite a rare flower in that way."

I examined the flowers, my heart warming at their cheerful colors.

"And since they're so colorful, they really brighten the mood. They're great for hospital visits," she said, her smile widening.

"Um, okay, I'll do four, then," I said, feeling a sudden wave of relief wash over me. This was it. This was what Hanni needed.

"Oh no! I'll do five, please, yeah," I blurted out, changing my mind without a second thought.

"What color would you like?" she asked, her eyes curious.

I hesitated, my mind racing. "Uh... let's go, um, pink, I guess."

She picked up a pink flower, its petals soft and delicate. "Pink flowers signify appreciation. Gratitude. Is that okay?"

I considered her words, a flicker of hope igniting within me. "What does, uh, orange signify?"

She picked up a vibrant orange flower, its petals radiating warmth and energy. "Orange signifies tolerance and open-mindedness."

"And, uh, the yellow one?" I asked, my voice gaining a touch of excitement.

She giggled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, yellow signifies beauty. White is purity and blue is..." She paused, her smile fading slightly. "And just so you know, Gerberas in general signify hope."

"How about, uh, five different colors?" I blurted out, my heart pounding in my chest.

She picked up the blue and white flowers, her smile returning. I paid for the flowers, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the grayness that had been engulfing me.

"Thank you," I said, feeling a lightness I hadn't experienced in weeks. "I think Hanni will like them."

As I walked out of the flower shop, the weight of my secret felt a little lighter.

Maybe, just maybe, there was still beauty in the world, even if our time was limited.

And maybe, just maybe, Hanni would feel a flicker of that beauty too.

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