Jisung knew it the moment he felt the ache in his chest, the weight growing heavier day by day. He brushed it off at first, thinking it was stress or maybe exhaustion. But as time passed, he knew it was something else, something that couldn't be ignored.
The first petal came one night while he was alone in his room, a faint, trembling cough leaving his lips and a single white petal fluttering out. He stared at it in shock, breathless and terrified. It was small, fragile, and it held the weight of everything he'd never dared to say aloud. It was the first sign of the Hanahaki disease, and Jisung knew that his feelings had grown too deep, too uncontainable.
It was for Minho, of course.
Minho, his best friend, his rock, the one he’d turned to since the beginning. Jisung had fallen in love slowly, quietly, like a wave swelling without warning. He couldn’t remember when it began, only that now it was too strong, too big to ignore. And it hurt because he knew Minho would never feel the same.
Jisung kept it a secret, hiding the petals that appeared more frequently, each one a reminder of the love he couldn’t express. Minho didn’t notice, not really, caught up in his own life, his own dreams. Jisung watched from afar, laughing along with him, pretending everything was okay, when in truth, he felt like he was slowly drowning.
The pain worsened, spreading through his chest like vines, choking his breath and leaving him gasping. The petals turned to full blooms, delicate white flowers tainted with traces of red. Jisung would hide them, slipping them into his pocket, flushing them down the sink, anywhere to keep them out of sight. He couldn’t bear the thought of Minho knowing, of seeing the pity in his eyes.
But as the days passed, Jisung knew he was running out of time. Each breath felt harder, his body weaker, and he knew he couldn’t hold on much longer. It hurt more than he could have ever imagined, this silent love that was killing him from the inside out.
One night, Jisung lay in his bed, alone, clutching his chest as another fit of coughing wracked his body. The flowers came, more vibrant, more beautiful, a cruel reminder of the love he could never voice. He knew he was fading, his strength slipping away like water through his fingers.
And then, in the dim light of his room, he heard the sound of the door opening. Minho stood there, looking worried, his face pale. Jisung tried to smile, to play it off, but the pain was too much. He could barely breathe, his vision blurred.
“Jisung,” Minho whispered, his voice trembling as he took in the sight of his best friend, weak and broken. “What’s happening? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jisung tried to laugh, but it came out as a weak, broken sound. “Didn’t want you to… see me like this.”
Minho knelt beside him, taking his hand, his touch warm and gentle. “I should have known, Jisung. I should have seen it.” His voice cracked, filled with a sorrow that Jisung had only dreamed of.
With the last of his strength, Jisung looked up at Minho, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry… for loving you like this.”
Minho’s eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head, his grip on Jisung’s hand tightening. “Don’t apologize. Don’t… leave me, Jisung. Please.”
But it was too late. Jisung could feel himself slipping away, the last petal falling as his eyes drifted shut, his love left unspoken, lingering in the air like the scent of flowers.
And in that quiet, broken moment, Minho knew that he would have given anything, anything at all, to hear those words, to tell Jisung he felt the same before it was too late. But now, all he was left with was silence and a heart full of words he’d never be able to say.
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had written this during my English exam and forgot about it until now when i was cleaning my notes app😭
