The Flowers in our Lungs

ATTENTION!!!!!
I wrote this a couple years ago and I absolutely hate it, but I also can't get over it. It's the very first story I ever completed so I'm going to edit it. It's going to take a long time. So be aware that this is not my favorite work and it's under construction. Thank you :)

"I guess that's the good part about not believing in love Layton, I will never have to suffer what you do." I wiped the blood off the side of his mouth and a petal fell from his knee to the floor.
"Make it stop." He was shaking as he spoke and it hurt to see.
"I can't."

(T/W: Cruel actions towards dying, death, strong language.
PLEASE! If you find any other triggering content that I haven't listed, please tell me so I can put it in here. I don't want anyone to have to deal with something they don't want to deal with. )

(((This is really weird to write because I'm trying to write like I'm a totally different person, like I'm using words I would never say and coming off like I would never allow but it's fun and also kinda bad but whatever!))) (((this is basically my version of the hanahaki disease))) (((strong language)))