roses. | eren x levi

roses. | nineteen

"well, mr. jaeger, we've tested you for any of the possible diseases that correlate with your described symptoms," the resident stated.

"and?"

"it was a rare case, indeed. we haven't even gotten a medical term for it yet. you show possible symptoms of the hanahaki disease, caused by the immense emotional stress of the heart."

passionate intensity? i choked up petals because my core couldn't take it anymore?

"i'm sorry doctor, this isn't making any sense."

he snickered, though it was an offensive opportunity for comedic release. "i don't, either. i was searching our index for some sort of illness that included petals, and i was going to conclude your case with walking in your sleep, or subconsciously, and eating a rose, seeing as you are a florist. i stumbled upon this disease, though, and we only have a few cases of it each year."

i agreed, attempting to concede. "is there some form of treatment?"

"not yet, mr. jaeger. we haven't found the resources and the knowledge to come up with a medicine to battle it. and since it's so rare, we don't have the money to fund research. although, all of our cases of the hanahaki disease are harsh unrequited love, and the cases end three ways."

"three ways?" i questioned.

"yes, mr. jaeger. you see, as you experience the heartbreak, flowers began to grow and develop right in your lungs, spreading throughout your entire body, which explains your trouble breathing and often having coughing episodes. the flowers themselves are the flowers that you are most connected with. you said you coughed out rose petals?"

"yes, sir. i have a client that comes in on a daily basis, and always buys roses, doctor."

he acknowledged it understandingly, but i suppose he was performing it because he was a scholar.

"well, in all of our known cases, the first choice is surgery, where we remove the stem of the roses in your lungs, but your feelings for them will also vanish. the second choice is getting your love confirmed, where the roses in your lungs will rot, sag, and vanish. or, your third option is death, where roses will cloud up your lungs and you'll die by asphyxiation. roses will continue growing in your body until there is no more space, and basically a living rose bush. well, not living, as you'd be dead by then, but i'm sure you'd make a lovely one," he remarked, softly tittering.

"this isn't the time for jokes, doctor," i replied, frowning at his inadequate attitude. he cleared his throat and aligned himself.

"right, i'm sorry. i would also recommend seeing your therapist on a daily basis, right after work. it hasn't proven true so far, but perhaps it'd make the growing go down if you had someone to talk to about it? i can write a prescription for antidepressants, pain killers, inhalers, but i'm sure it'll do nothing for your case."

"i-uh, okay," i responded.

"if you ever want to schedule a surgery date, please call us, and you'll sign papers as soon as possible, yes?" he announced with an expiatory tone, getting up from his seat. "i wish you the best of luck with your disease. not many survive from it, you know? i hate it when we encounter a disease that we have no previous knowledge of. one life in jeopardy."

i agreed, clutching my possessions. "thank you, doctor lambert."

mr. rose was my obsession, my fascination, my attraction. mr. rose was bigger than a vine to me, more compelling than a rose.

he was mr. rose and i adore him more than i do anything other.

to allow all my sensations to go so i could resume dwelling in an actuality where i'm simply a fellow who sells people flowers? an existence where i'm nothing but a florist?

i'd sooner not remain at all than to not admire mr. rose, even if it drowned me stronger each moment i existed.

i would willingly allow my lungs suffocate from a delicate rose blossoming inside me than to never have relished mr. rose.

i would preferably shift into a sumptuous rose shrub than experience a world where i didn't love mr. rose.

yet he would never love me back.