Aster Petals

❀ six ❀

Waking up to coughs of petals isn't the best way to start a day.

It came so suddenly. Just as Namjoon was waking up from a night's sleep, his throat itched and the petals rapidly came up. He coughed and coughed, covering his mouth with the said petals, some of it escaping his hands and falling onto the bed. The attempt to hold back the next ones had failed miserably, erupting into another cough.

It took him a good twenty seconds before the itching in his throat had cooled down, for the flowers in his stomach to halt its growing process. He pulls himself up, taking deep breathes, and now fully awake. Despite wanting to close his eyes again, he knew that he couldn't, that he shouldn't.

Before he runs to the bathroom and let it all out, he checks his side of the bed if there were any blue Asters visibly seen. Fortunately for him, there were only a few. He glanced over to Seokjin to check if he was awake. He's still fast asleep, as sound as he could be. 

The calming sight of him brought a smile to Namjoon's face. Pushing these thoughts aside, he sweeps up the rest of the petals with his hand, collecting it so that he could flush it down along with the others for later. So that there would be no way of Seokjin finding out.

If there's one thing he feared in the current time, it is for Seokjin to find out that he has the disease.

He was afraid of how he'll react. If he ever finds out that Namjoon, the person who had caused his disease, the person who had rejected him, finally liked him back and now has Hanahaki for him, he would probably hate him for life.

It's a whole karma game they were playing and so far Namjoon wasn't enjoying any of it.

Just as he swept the last of the petals, his stomach churned once again. The petals were coming up his throat, much faster than expected.

Before a cough could escape his mouth, he zipped his lips and ran to the bathroom at full speed, trying his best to not slam the door behind him.

Once he got in, locking the door with his free hand, he threw the petals into the toilet bowl and from there, he vomits.

He vomits the flowers that were in his system, coughs out all the petals that were caught in his throat. He pushes himself and his body as his muscles weaken. The tears spilled over his eyelids, a few drops rolling down his skin. The roots continue to grow in him, digging into his organs, wrapping around his ribcage, and tightening his chest. The flowers were burning, heating his throat to a warmer temperature.

The salty tears dripped onto the toilet water along with the blue Asters that had filled it. Ounces of blood, ounces of tears, ounces of the pain of unrequited love filled that bowl.

He gives himself one more push, letting the last of the line of fiery flowers fall from his lips. His eyes that were once closed open as he stares down at the bowl of flowers underneath him, teary-eyed. Asters, those pretty star-like flowers, those that symbolized afterthought.

A reminder that because of his choice, because of his action, Seokjin would never love him back.

Well, he could've.

But not anymore.

He falls on his knees, his grasps onto the sides of the bowl remained in its position. His body felt weary—especially his chest—after forcefully letting out all of those flowers. This wasn't just physically painful, but so was it emotionally.

It hurts to believe that more than three years had passed of Seokjin suffering that disease, that Namjoon didn't do anything to reach him. It tightened his heart, it twisted his throat, the thought of all of this, the reason why he is suffering, was because he allowed Seokjin to suffer.