Hanahaki - BTS Fanfic #Wattys2017

It's All Over

Yoongi and I formed a bond pretty quickly. We related to one another, and we'd spew whatever thoughts we had over our dilemmas to each other. We talked about our situation and our illness, and we even made a few crude jokes.

Yoongi told me his flower was a cyclamen, as I suspected, which apparently meant 'resignation' and 'goodbyes'. Mine was a cherry blossom, which apparently symbolized 'fragility' and 'spiritual beauty'.

With Yoongi, it felt as though I was recovering. Slowly, day by day, I'd throw up a little less. My love for Jimin was slowly fading away with Yoongi's help, and it didn't seem as hard to kiss my boyfriend on the cheek as it used to. I no longer winced at the things he stopped doing, the habits he picked up when he was in love, and instead occupied myself with the blossoming friendship with Yoongi.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was getting worse and worse. He seemed to fall harder for Hoseok with each time he so much as breathed the boy's name, and it got so bad he appeared to be on the brink of death, practically. His legs shook wildly when he walked, his knees colliding together repeatedly. I found out that we started depending on each other, and soon enough I became the shoulder he'd cry on.

It was another one of the boys' get togethers, and because Jimin was busy entertaining Taehyung with some old story (and frankly, I didn't want to spend half an hour awkwardly standing in my ex-best friend's presence), I was spending the time lounging on Yoongi's bed.

The boy seemed half asleep at the moment, but I knew better. His half-lidded eyes were from how drained he was, and his raspy voice was more so from how much he'd expel petals from his system.

I was worried, furrowing my brows. "Yoongi... I think you should get the surgery."

He snapped up, his voice practically a growl. "Never."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "You're practically dying. Do you want to die, is that it? The surgery could save your life, and I was doing a bit of research last night. You... you actually can die from the Hanahaki Disease, Yoongi. And you're already more than halfway there!"

"That's bullshit those fanfiction sites try to spit out," Yoongi grumbles. "I'd bet it's fake."

"People can die from broken hearts, so I'm sure puking out flowers repeatedly about 24/7 is fatal as well!" I snap at him. "Believe me, I've been where you are now, and I had no help. It took so much for me to get over Taehyung, and you're not heading down that road with Hoseok! You seem to get worse with each day."

"I'll be fine."

"You can't eat, you're losing sleep, you're throwing up every moment you can! And when you're not, you're simply lying around bedridden! You're lucky it's summer break." I shake my head. He started getting too sick to go to school right when the term ended, which was lucky for him. Now we had the next two and a half months to care for his flower-puking self.

"I can't help the fact I'm in love with Hoseok, OK?" Yoongi snaps at me harshly.

I roll my eyes, but I hear a gasp from the hallway, right outside the door. Yoongi and I both look to the door, and we hear footsteps scampering away. 

Shit.

I rush out of the door right when Yoongi scrambles out of bed, the adrenaline pumping through him to chase the eavesdropper.

I run out of the hallway and into the living room. But it's too late. I see our friend, Jungkook, whispering in Hoseok's ear hurriedly, and Hoseok's jaw drops with surprise. Yoongi dashes into the room and Hoseok stares at him.

Yoongi's Adam's apple bobs with nervousness.

"Yoongi-hyung?" Hoseok stammers. "Do you... love me?"