Archive of Our Own

Yoongi had known he was screwed long before the plush flower petals had begun appearing in between his lips.

He wasn’t sure which exact moment had pushed him over the edge, had forced him to confront the storm inside his heart. Maybe it was when he had first caught sight of Jimin’s beautiful, iridescent smile that very first day that they had met, or maybe it was when Jimin had first accidentally brushed hands with him when they had been arranging a rose bouquet together, a lovely pink blush coating his round cheeks as he shyly avoided Yoongi’s eyes, or maybe it was when Jimin had first asked him to have dinner together after work, his already gorgeous face somehow looking infinitely more stunning after a good meal and a couple of drinks, his eyes agleam and cheeks glowing a rosy red.

Yoongi was so, so screwed—and these petals were simply a manifestation of how far this innocent, all consuming crush had developed. He was in love; there was no denying it now.

Jimin just didn’t love him back.

Yoongi felt a bitter taste bloom at the back of his throat as he pushed those thoughts away. He coughed weakly before leaning over the toilet to retch out another flow of white petals.

❀

It was once Yoongi saw blood show up along with the petals that he knew he really needed to pull his head out of his ass and seek treatment of some kind.

“Fuck!” he cursed loudly as he pricked his finger on a rose thorn. This was the third time this week; he supposed he’d been a little too distracted lately, given the constant feeling of acid in his throat and nausea in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked immediately, already at Yoongi’s side with a bandage and some antibacterial ointment. “Oh my, that looks kind of deep. Does it hurt, hyung?”

Yoongi’s heart squeezed. Nothing can hurt more than my broken heart, Jiminie. But let’s not talk about that right now.

Yoongi let out a deep sigh while wiping up the blood with some gauze. “It’s alright. Don’t worry, Jiminie. I’m just too clumsy these days.”

Jimin pouted, and Yoongi ignored the way his breath caught at the sight. “I wish you would be more careful, hyung. I worry, you know?” He exhaled before grabbing Yoongi’s hand without warning and proceeding to bandage the cut up. Yoongi hated the way his heartbeat quickened at the touch. It had been months, why was he still so affected by every little thing?

“You’re banned from working with roses today,” Jimin muttered under his breath while examining Yoongi’s cut one last time. “I don’t want to see you walking out of here with more cuts like these. I’ll take care of the rose orders.”

Yoongi swallowed harshly, a sudden lump forming in his throat because of Jimin’s kindness. That was another thing that always got to him: how fucking nice Jimin always was to him. It almost made things even worse in Yoongi’s opinion, because it made it impossible for him to even try to begin the process of falling out of love with Jimin.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. Stop thinking about it. You’re just going to make yourself feel more miserable, he thought to himself glumly.

“Okay,” he finally replied to Jimin. “I’m going to take a break right now. Think you can handle the shop on your own for a few minutes?”

Jimin smiled and Yoongi looked away immediately. It was like looking into the sun: beautiful but so, so painful and searing. “No problem, hyung. Go clear your head.”

Yoongi nodded and walked towards the breakroom of his uncle’s flower shop. He leaned against a wall and sighed. It hurts. It hurts a lot .

He felt bile rising in the back of his throat and practically ran to the small employee bathroom connected to the breakroom. He had known it was coming, and he was planning on taking a break even before he’d cut himself again. Looking back on it, Yoongi supposed that close interaction with Jimin probably triggered this episode of petal vomiting.

He felt a cold sweat begin to coat his forehead after he emptied his stomach full of flower petals. The toilet bowl was full of white jasmine flower petals, as always, and the sweet fragrance of the flowers permeated the bathroom as Yoongi brushed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

Yoongi groaned before looking back down into the miserable toilet bowl, more bile rising in his throat as he saw beads of blood blooming like deadly flowers in the water beside the flower petals. Fuck.

The disease had progressed. He didn’t have much time left.

❀

Jimin didn’t know. And Yoongi planned to keep it that way.

It was so, so stupid of him to fall in love with his perfect coworker, wasn’t it? He couldn’t even escape Jimin’s presence in the small flower shop, and the proximity only seemed to worsen Yoongi’s condition.

“Hey, can you fill this order of lily arrangements?” Jimin asked while flipping through a stack of order forms. “They’re for some kind of wedding. Probably for the bridesmaids, I’m guessing.”

“So I should try to do a white lily arrangement then?” Yoongi responded, already reaching for a couple stems and twisting them together skillfully. “The usual wedding arrangement style?”

“Yeah,” Jimin said while yawning. It had been a long day, and they only had a couple more hours before closing time “Do that. I’m gonna make a couple more rose and tulip arrangements to put on display in the window. Attract more customers and all that.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement. “My uncle is coming by in about an hour to check up on us, so we better pretend to look busy by then.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jimin grinned. He rolled his neck. “Ah, I’m ready to go home and sleep through the weekend.”

Yoongi laughed, feeling suddenly endeared by Jimin’s grin, which exposed a slightly crooked front tooth that Yoongi loved and daydreamed about just a little too much. “That sounds like heaven honestly.”

“What about you, hyung? Any plans for the weekend?”

“I’m coming in tomorrow,” Yoongi replied before yawning loudly. “It’s spring and stuff, so we’re bound to be busy and Uncle wants me to start working Saturdays again. That’s why he’s coming in today, actually. To make sure we have enough flowers in our inventory to handle a sudden spike in customers.”

Jimin groaned. “Working Saturdays sounds horrible. Good luck with that, hyung.”

Yoongi hummed again, choosing not to say that he actually liked the thought of working more. It would probably help distract him from the misery of his life a little more.

Yoongi liked working in the flower shop, he really did. Granted, it was never his first career choice, but it wasn’t all that bad. After college, he hadn’t been able to find a job in any music companies as a producer or songwriter, and so his parents, in desperation, had reached out to his uncle, who owned a chain of small flower shops in the city.

When Yoongi had first come in for work on a crisp Monday morning, he hadn’t expected to see anyone already in the shop, much less someone as cheery and beautiful as Jimin. His uncle had certainly not mentioned that he would be working with another florist, much less a florist as gorgeous and perfect as Jimin.

It hadn’t taken very long for Yoongi to get the hang of this whole florist business, his delicate pianist fingers so well suited for carefully arranging and twisting flowers into place. He had always been a bit of a perfectionist, and that definitely translated over to his arrangements and bouquets.

It really wasn’t all that bad. Yoongi still composed in his free time, and his Soundcloud was fairly successful, despite the fact he hadn’t posted anything in four months, when his disease had first started. He just couldn’t bring himself to pick up a pen or place his hands on a keyboard when all he felt these days was exhaustion and heartbreak.

Working Saturdays should help me occupy my mind more, he thought somberly. I need the distraction. The more I think about it, the worse the disease will become.

He bit his lip and forced all of his concentration onto the flowers in his hands. Once he finished the order of lily bouquets, he started working on orders that weren’t even due until the next week, knowing that the minute he stopped working would be the minute he would start feeling miserable and self-pitying again.

Yoongi hated his tendency to wallow in his self-pity and misery. He would have sought treatment for his Hanahaki disease long ago, but he was scared of the stigma associated with Hanahaki sufferers and of eventually having to let go of his feelings for Jimin, which despite himself, he still cherished deeply.

He wondered what his family would think about him if they knew. Would they be ashamed like most people were? Repulsed by the unnaturalness of having flowers grow inside of him? Embarrassed that Yoongi couldn’t get someone to just love him back?

Whatever. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t told anyone yet, and it had already been months. He just prayed that the disease would go away soon, although he knew deep down that it wouldn’t. Not until he fully accepted that Jimin would never return his feelings and forced himself to move on.

Sometimes, Yoongi would feel a sickening sense of hope. That was probably what killed him the most. The fact that he still clung onto this dream of one day waking up and having Park Jimin love him back.

He will never ever love you, a sinister voice whispered to him as he fastened a plastic tie around a group of flower stems just a little too tightly, No one will ever love you.

Yoongi shook his head. God, he really needed to get rid of this negative voice inside his mind. All this insecurity and resentment couldn’t be good for him.

“If no one will love me,” Yoongi found himself muttering aloud. “Then I need to teach myself not to fall in love with anyone in the first place.”

❀

The day Jimin found out started out normally enough.

It was Easter, and so they had more customers than usual trying to purchase some multi-colored spring arrangements to give to their loved ones at church and family dinners.

Yoongi and Jimin had prepped several bright, spring-themed bouquets the night before in anticipation, but they were still overwhelmed by customers.

Yoongi wasn’t as good with people as Jimin, so he hid himself in the back, tirelessly working on several bouquets at once while Jimin took orders and smiled his charmingly at customers.

Jimin was practically glowing today, Yoongi observed. Maybe he just loved Easter a lot too and was feeling extra perky and chipper as a result.

He found himself staring at Jimin several times, despite his best efforts not to. It was like he had this masochistic urge to just torture himself these days. He kept agreeing to having dinner with Jimin about three or four times a week, and it just killed him inside to have Jimin so close and yet so far away from him at the same time.

Yesterday, they had gone to a barbeque place together, and Jimin had seemed just so genuinely happy, peals of giggles escaping his lips every now and then, that Yoongi had to excuse himself to the bathroom three times to let out the stream of petals produced by the spikes in his sense of heartbreak. He hoped the restaurant’s employees didn’t mind the strong scent of jasmine left behind long after he flushed all the petals down the drain.

Jimin was definitely Yoongi’s sun. It always felt like everything revolved around him, and that Yoongi’s world could not go on without his presence in Yoongi’s life.

Breathe, his mind commanded him. Save the emotions for later.

“I love him,” Yoongi whispered to himself as he tied off another bouquet. “I love him so, so much.”

It hurts. Why does love have to hurt?

“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed while pressed his palms to his temples. The acidic bile was back and he knew he was going to hurl at any second. He glanced around, hurriedly noting that Jimin was occupied and probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped away for a moment.

There was even more blood this time as Yoongi hunched over the toilet. It was getting worse, he knew it. And it was getting worse because he really wasn’t putting any genuine effort into getting better. Maybe he had never wanted to get better in the first place. He felt like the disease was a part of him now, and it was getting harder and harder for him to repeat the words “let go” to himself every night, something he had read on the Internet that was supposed to help with recovering from the disease.

You don’t want this, he told himself aggressively. You need to get better. Otherwise you’ll die, you fool.

“Yoongi hyung?” a voice called out.

Panic seized Yoongi’s heart as he realized he had left the door partially ajar and suddenly, Jimin was pulling the door open and Yoongi scrambled to get to his feet to flush the toilet but it was already too late.

“Hyung?” Jimin gasped. “...oh my god.”

Fuck, Yoongi thought as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re such an idiot.

He forced himself to take a long, deep breath before opening his eyes again, only to see Jimin hesitantly reaching out as if to rub his shoulder on something.

As if on cue, Yoongi started hurling more petals. Globs of blood accompanied the beautiful jasmine petals. It was by no means a pretty sight.

He moaned in pain and clutched his burning throat once the petals stopped flowing, feeling nauseated by both the taste of bile in his throat and the unsightly scene of bloodied flowers before him. He took a shuddering breath and sighed in relief when he didn’t feel any more petals threatening to rise up.

“Hyung, hyung, oh my—oh my god,” Jimin was saying, his voice thick with tears.

Yoongi felt too dazed to respond, his eyes fluttering closed as the room began to spin. This was the worst episode he had yet. Normally he was able to recover within a few minutes, but now even rising to his feet felt impossible. He was still sprawled across the tile floor, his back resting against the wall of the bathroom.

There were gentle fingers brushing the hair off of his forehead. “Hyung, can you hear me? You don’t have to say anything, just nod yes or no.”

Yoongi forced himself to nod weakly.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to take you to a hospital?”

Yoongi shook his head no. No; no one else could know about this.

Jimin was resting his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, and Yoongi forced himself to listen to the sounds of Jimin’s breaths to keep him anchored. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out as his dizzy mind whirled.

“J-Jimin,” Yoongi finally gasped out. He peeked one eye open slightly. “Don’t—Don’t tell anyone, okay?” He mustered up the last of his strength to reach up to clutch at one of Jimin’s hands desperately. “Promise me.”

“You can trust me,” Jimin said immediately. “But hyung...it’s really bad. I really think you need to see a doctor and start treatment. That much blood...it can’t be good.”

Yoongi nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure it out. I’ll be fine. Just—don’t think any less of me because of this, alright? Please…”

“Never,” Jimin replied in a hushed tone. “I would never, Yoongi hyung.”

“T-Thank you,” Yoongi said shakily. “Stay with me, Jiminie. Please.”

“I will, hyung. I will,” Jimin reassured him.

Yoongi sighed and let his head lull to the side. “Sorry you—Sorry you have to see me like this.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jimin responded while using a cloth to dab Yoongi’s sweat away. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m an idiot,” Yoongi muttered. “A fool.”

“No, you’re not,” Jimin said soothingly. “There’s nothing wrong with falling in love.”

Oh, the irony.

“Who is she?” Jimin asked, and if Yoongi had the energy, he would’ve laughed out loud.

“He —” Yoongi answered, “—is going to remain nameless.”

“O-Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“F-For the record, I didn’t mean to assume or anything,” Jimin said in a nervous voice. “And um, I guess we didn’t really talk about it or anything but I like men too. It’s nice to know you’re like me, hyung.”

Fuck, Yoongi thought. You’re just gonna fuel my lovesick fantasies even more now.

He let out a weak chuckle. “Yep. I’m like you. N-Not so surprising though, is it? We’re both young men who work with flowers for a living…”

“Stereotypes aren’t nice, hyung,” Jimin teased, a little giggle escaping his lips.

“Help me up,” Yoongi said. “I think I can stand now.”

Jimin hooked his hands underneath Yoongi’s arms and pulled him up. Yoongi swayed on his feet for a moment before he clutched at the wall again to steady himself.

“Are there a lot of customers?” he questioned while trying to regain his sense of balance. The dizziness and nausea were slowly going away, but he felt a headache forming in return.

“Kind of,” Jimin answered sheepishly.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Yoongi replied playfully. “Go out there and sell some damn flowers.”

Jimin giggled, and the sound went straight to Yoongi’s heart and empty stomach. He swore he could feel more jasmine flowers blooming in the pit of his stomach just from the sound of Jimin’s light and high-pitched laughter. The all too familiar searing pain in his heart was returning in full force, and he swallowed hard to distract himself from the burning sensation inside his chest.

It’s okay, something inside his mind whispered to him. Everything’s going to be okay.

❀

Yoongi was really starting to hate spring.

For one, it rained all the damn time and two, for some reason all of the customers were extra happy and just...extra in general. They kept ordering the most complicated springtime arrangements and honestly, Yoongi was tired (although he wasn’t sure how much of that exhaustion could be blamed on his disease…).

His hands ached as he sat down in the breakroom to breathe for a few minutes. The one thing that had been good about this week was that there wasn’t blood anymore when he puked petals. He wasn’t sure exactly why the blood had stopped, but he took it as a good sign that he was getting better and presumably, getting over Jimin.

Except he really wasn’t. If he was being honest with himself, and god knew that was a rare occurrence, he was still madly in love with his florist coworker. At this point, he wasn’t sure if that would ever change. But why he was suddenly getting better...that still remained a mystery to Yoongi.

“Hyung? Are you still in there?” a voice called out, startling Yoongi out of his thoughts.

Jimin was suddenly by Yoongi’s side, and he could already feel the familiar fluttering of his heart starting up again at Jimin’s proximity.

“Doing alright? Are you...feeling okay right now?”

“I’m okay, Jiminie,” Yoongi replied, dully noting that his voice sounded just a tad too affectionate. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um...don’t worry about me.”

Jimin took a seat beside Yoongi, and normally Yoongi would have protested, citing that fact that they were in their busiest season and that they couldn’t afford to keep too many customers waiting, but there was a look in Jimin’s eyes that made Yoongi snap his mouth shut. Something told him not to ruin this moment quite yet.

“Listen, hyung…” Jimin bit his lip pensively. “I won’t pretend I understand what you’re going through, but, uh...I want you to know that you can always confide in me. Only if you want to, of course! No pressure! I just wanted to, uh, put that out there.”

Fuck, Yoongi’s heart hurt. Just when he thought things were winding down, Jimin just had to pull this shit on his weak ass heart.

Yoongi stared at his shoes while Jimin continued to look at him expectantly, completely unsure how to respond to such genuine kindness and sincerity.

He coughed into his hand awkwardly, still solidly avoiding eye contact with Jimin. But out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi saw a single white petal floating in the air, to his utter horror.

Now this was new. Coughing petals randomly. He needed to start watching it whenever he cleared his goddamn throat.

Jimin gently snatched the petal out of the air, turning it over in his hands a couple times while staring at it thoughtfully. The slight fragrance of jasmine wafted over them as Yoongi watched Jimin play around with the petal for a few more moments.

“Does it hurt?” Jimin finally asked.

Yoongi wasn’t sure what he was referring to. “Um, yeah? Sometimes.”

“Do the petals hurt more than…” Jimin trailed off, giving Yoongi a meaningful look.

“More than the heartbreak?” Yoongi filled in. “I mean...they both kind of suck. But the unrequited love thing is probably a little less shitty than uh, having a possibly terminal disease that makes you cough up blood and pretty flowers.”

Jimin nodded. “I just...can I be honest with you for a second, hyung?”

Yoongi cocked his head to the side. “Sure. Of course.”

“I think I might...I might be falling in love with someone too.”

Ouch . Jimin may as well have stabbed Yoongi through the heart with a goddamn pitchfork.

“That’s...nice. Great, I mean.” Yoongi’s voice cracked slightly and he hated it. For fuck’s sake, why was he still so emotionally fragile when this shit had been going on for months and months and months? He swallowed, trying to ignore how tight and hot his chest felt. “Why are you telling me this?”

“It’s just...I know he’s already in love with someone else.”

Then it clicked in Yoongi’s head. “Oh. So you wanna know what it’s like just in case you get it too?”

“No!” Jimin said hastily. “I mean, a little. But mostly, I just. I wanted to know your opinion, if that’s okay.”

Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows. “My opinion on what? Possibly dying because I’m a lovesick idiot who doesn’t know how to move on?”

“No, I meant, do you think it’s worth it? To continue suffering so you can...hold onto the feelings for a little while longer? The thought of treatment—” Jimin shuddered, “—scares me. I don’t trust those machines and I...I would rather not think about doctors picking and choosing which memories they want to erase from my brain.”

“That makes sense,” Yoongi sighed, pressing two fingers to his lower lip in thought. “I kind of feel the same way. I’ve been trying to self-treat the whole thing, but clearly—” he gestured to the single petal in Jimin’s hands, “it hasn’t really been working out. Lately, I’ve been feeling a little better—nothing like what you saw on Easter—but it’s still...shitty. And I’m…” Yoongi exhaled harshly and closed his eyes. “Let’s just say I’m very attached to this person and I don’t see myself wanting to let go of all my feelings for him any time soon.”

“Do you—Do you think you’re going to get better? On your own, I mean?” Jimin asked in a hushed voice.

“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Honestly I’m so far gone at this point that I don’t really care anymore,” Yoongi found himself saying with ease.

Jimin went silent at that, and it gave Yoongi a moment to process the full magnitude of what he had just said to Jimin. He didn’t care if this disease killed him anymore; he was willing to die of a broken heart.

Yoongi bowed his head. He supposed he had known this all along, but saying it out loud so bluntly and without hesitation...fuck, he was so, so screwed.

“You’re only 25, hyung,” Jimin whispered, and for the first time since Yoongi had known him, Jimin had tears running from his eyes. “You—You’d really rather die than move on?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything. What could he say?

Jimin started silently sobbing into his hands, and Yoongi swallowed against a growing lump in his throat. With shaking hands, he reached out to take Jimin into his arms, letting the younger man sob on his shoulder, soaking his uniform through with tears.

“Shhh,” Yoongi found himself muttering. “Don’t cry, Jiminie. Don’t cry for me. It’s gonna be okay.”

Is it really going to be okay, though?

“Promise me,” Jimin whispered wetly against the cloth of Yoongi’s shirt. “Promise me you’re going to try to get better, that you’re not just going to let yourself die.”

“Jimin, I…” I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep.

“Please, hyung. I can’t—I can’t even think about you, y-you—”

“Then don’t,” Yoongi said soothingly. “Don’t think about it.”

“Yoongi hyung, I—” Jimin released a heartbreaking sob. “If you d-die...you’ll kill me too.”

Yoongi felt a shiver run down his spine. “No, Jimin, no. That’s not how it works.”

Jimin pulled back and shook his head, more tears escaping his beautiful eyes as he pressed his trembling lips together.

“P-Promise me.”

Yoongi looked away. “I can’t.”

That seemed to set Jimin off into another crying fit. Yoongi hated himself for making Jimin feel so distressed, although he really wasn’t quite sure why Jimin was reacting like this. Sure, they were close friends and no one wanted to think about their friends possibly dying, but this?

Maybe Jimin is just secretly a highly emotional person or something, Yoongi thought to himself. Don’t read into it that much.

Jimin was full on sobbing now, no longer trying to hold back his anguished cries as his shoulders shook and hands trembled.

“I’m sorry, Jiminie,” Yoongi found himself saying, his voice sounding far away to his ears. “I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

Jimin nodded weakly before pulling himself up, harshly swiping tears away with his fingers and drying his hands on his apron. He took a few shuddering, deep breaths while looking at Yoongi with so much sorrow that Yoongi honestly just wanted to punch himself in the face for making Jimin so, so sad.

Jimin didn’t say anything else before letting out a tiny whimper and exiting the breakroom.

Yoongi wasn’t sure how much longer he sat in the empty room, but he did know one thing: he needed to try. Really try this time. For Jimin’s sake, if not his own.

I have to get better, he thought to himself, a new sense of purpose arising amongst the misery inside of him. I will get better.

For Jimin.

❀

Things were starting to change for Yoongi. And he really wasn’t quite sure why.

First of all, his puking episodes were becoming less and less frequent, and when they happened once every two weeks or so, very few petals emerged. He hadn’t seen any blood since around the time Jimin had found him in the bathroom several weeks ago either.

Second of all, a lot of the internal pain and heartbreak he had been carrying around for so many months was either fading or dulling. Or maybe he was just becoming numb to it or something. All Yoongi knew was that it was so much easier to smile and laugh and enjoy life these days, and that for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like there was a crushing weight pressing down on his chest constantly.

And thirdly...Yoongi was 99% sure Jimin was an angel on earth. Ever since that emotional conversation a few weeks ago, Jimin had clung to Yoongi’s side, as if trying to give Yoongi more and more reasons to get better and to survive this disease instead of just withering away as Yoongi had anticipated. It reminded Yoongi that before he fell in love, before he got sick, before everything had gone to shit, he and Jimin had been friends. Good friends. And Yoongi was going to do his fucking best to keep it that way, even if that meant finding painstaking ways to get over Jimin or fix his feelings.

Yoongi wanted to keep going, for his own sake and for Jimin’s and for his family’s and for everyone else who cared for him. There was too much left for Yoongi to do and to experience and to enjoy in this life.

But one thing still baffled Yoongi. Sure, he had found a will to live (which wasn’t so impressive considering all humans have a primal instinct to survive and persist, right?), but that didn’t explain the changes in his symptoms. If anything, the past few weeks had made Yoongi fall even deeper in love with Jimin, despite his new resolve to find a way to get over the younger, so why was he actually getting better?

Yoongi thought a lot about what happened in April. He liked to think of it as a turning point in his...battle with Hanahaki disease or whatever.

Thankfully, Jimin hadn’t developed the disease since their conversation about it. Yoongi still wondered who it was that Jimin happened to be falling in love with. He supposed that, unlike his case, Jimin’s love was actually requited and that was why Jimin was still healthy.

He wondered if it would hurt him to see Jimin with someone else. It probably would at first, but ultimately, all that Yoongi had ever wanted was Jimin’s happiness, regardless of it was with him or not.

I want him to be happy, he found himself thinking as he laid sprawled over his cold sheets in bed. He deserves to be happy.

But why don’t I deserve to happy?

“Shut up,” Yoongi muttered to himself out loud. “I thought I just got past this.”

Why am I so fucking insecure and self-centered?

Because part of you still can’t accept the fact that Jimin has never, and will never, love your sorry ass, a dark voice whispered in the back of his mind.

“Stop it,” Yoongi said out loud before sighing. “Fuck, I sound like a crazy person. Why am I doing this to myself?”

Why am I hurting myself again by thinking about this?

“Someone will love you,” Yoongi breathed out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Someone will love you.” He paused. “It’s just not Jimin.”

Things were definitely getting better for Yoongi, but there were still a lot of things that seemed to stay the same.

❀

Yoongi hadn’t had an episode in three weeks. Which didn’t make any sense, since Yoongi really hadn’t really changed anything in his routine or lifestyle.

Maybe it was just the placebo effect, where he had just started to have a greater desire to get better and so it was really happening.

Yoongi pressed his lips together in thought as he placed more beef onto the grill, the sound of sizzling filling the air immediately.

Across the table from him, Jimin was scrolling through something on his phone, a cute furrow forming in between his brows as he frowned at the screen.

Yoongi cleared his throat. “Something bothering you, Jiminie?”

Jimin looked up immediately with wide eyes. “What? No, I’m just reading something…”

“Oh?” Yoongi questioned as he flipped some of the pieces of beef over. “Is it anything interesting?”

“Um,” Jimin hesitated. “I’m just...researching a little bit more about...Hanahaki disease.”

Yoongi’s eyes instantly snapped up from the grill to meet Jimin’s. “You’re still healthy, right? Please don’t tell me—”

“I’m fine, hyung, I’m fine!” Jimin reassured him hastily. “I just kind of...wanted to know more? Since you...you know…”

Yoongi blinked at him. “You’re researching it so you can help me?”

“I mean, yes? But no, because you’re perfectly capable of helping yourself and everything! I just—I don’t know—”

Yoongi swallowed hard. “You don’t need to feel sorry for me anymore. I’m getting better. A lot better. You don’t need to worry, Jiminie.”

And then there was that all too familiar weight settling in Yoongi’s chest, except there was none of the rising bile and sudden nausea that usually accompanied it, or the goddamned petals that would spill out from his lips.

His chest hurt, but his throat and stomach didn’t. And it was confusing the fuck out of Yoongi.

“I’m not feeling sorry for you,” Jimin said slowly after a long silence. “It was never like that.”

“Then what?” Yoongi sighed, feeling both wary and defensive and hurt again for some reason. “You wanted to save me so you could clear your guilty conscious or something? Don’t think I didn’t see the way you looked at me back on Easter. You pity me. Don’t fucking lie to me.”

Something in Jimin’s eyes flashed. “If that’s really what you think of me, then I guess you really don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t,” Yoongi snapped back spitefully. “But don’t act like you actually c—”

Yoongi cut himself off and closed his mouth. Don’t act like you actually care about me.

Fuck, he wasn’t being fair. The rational part of Yoongi said that Jimin definitely cared about him in some form, since they were friends and Jimin tried so hard to help him, but the irrational part of Yoongi that was still extremely and madly in love with Jimin screamed at him that Jimin didn’t care about him in the ways that he actually desired . That Jimin probably looked down on him as a invalid and as a heartbroken loser.

All of the emotions swimming inside of Yoongi kind of made him want to vomit. But something told Yoongi that even if he were to vomit, there wouldn’t be any petals to show for it.

Something had changed. Something was changing.

“Listen, Yoongi hyung,” Jimin said lowly. “I don’t care whatever it is you think about me right now. I’m just doing my best to help and to support you. Sorry for hurting your pride or whatever.”

Yoongi bit his lip, hating that Jimin had hit the nail right on the head. His pride was more than hurt, and his insecurity, worsened by months of unrequited feelings, was flaring up again. He looked down at his hands, twisting them together helplessly as he avoided Jimin’s piercing eyes.

“Are you okay, hyung? Really okay?” Jimin asked in a whisper.

Yoongi inhaled deeply as he thought about how to answer. Physically, he was more than okay these days. Some color had returned to his face and it was a little easier to sleep at night and he definitely didn’t feel very lightheaded anymore. But emotionally, he still felt...like a wreck.

“I’m...fine, Jimin.”

“Are you?”

Yoongi sighed. “You asked me a question. I answered. I’m not sure what you’re trying to do right now.”

“Just making sure you aren’t trying to brush me off or something. If you really don’t want to talk about it, just tell me. You don’t need to lie to me.”

“Well, I don’t really want to talk about it. There.”

“Okay, what do you want to talk about then?” Jimin leaned forward, his forearms flat on the table as he shifted in his seat.

“Who are you in love with?” Yoongi blurted out before he could stop himself.

That caught Jimin off guard. “I—”

“It’s not fair of me to ask since I never talked about—” Yoongi gestured towards himself awkwardly, “—my case or whatever. But, if you...I don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his hair frustratedly. “Forget I said anything.”

“Hyung, I can’t tell you now,” Jimin whispered, his voice sounding shaky. “But you have to promise me that when I tell you, you won’t freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” Yoongi asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I don’t—”

“Just promise me.”

Yoongi sighed before giving in. “I promise.”

Jimin nodded. “Thank you. I’ll hold you to that. I promise I’ll tell you, just not right now. In a couple weeks.”

Yoongi shrugged. He supposed it didn’t really matter that much at all, since whoever Jimin was in love wasn’t him anyways. That didn’t quite explain Jimin’s apprehension, though. Yoongi would have to think about that some more.

Jimin was staring at his hands, his head bowed down low. “Um, since you asked me, is it okay if I ask you the same thing? Can you tell me a little bit about the person you love?”

Yoongi closed his eyes tightly. “I suppose that’s fair. Um…”

He paused before slowly opening his eyes again. Jimin had straightened up in his seat and was looking at Yoongi expectantly. Yoongi felt himself flush slightly under the intensity of Jimin’s gaze, one hand coming up to rub at his neck awkwardly as he cleared his throat.

“He’s...very cute. Selfless and caring beyond belief. Deserves the fucking world, honestly. He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, inside and out. He’s—” Yoongi took a deep breath, “He’s probably the only person I could ever see myself loving for the rest of my life with no regrets. That’s why it’s been...really hard for me to let go and stuff.”

“Have you?” Jimin asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

“Have I what?”

“Let go?”

Yoongi licked his lips before breathing out a small, “No.”

“But you said you were getting better and—”

“Yeah, and I really don’t understand why since I really haven’t—” Yoongi coughed as he trailed off awkwardly.

“You didn’t seek treatment at all, did you?”

“Honestly, I haven’t done anything of my own volition to actively try to...get over this.”

“Then how?” Jimin asked, a small line between his eyebrows as he frowned.

“I don’t know.” Yoongi tore his gaze away from Jimin’s. “If I’m being honest, I’m still really in love with him. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully move on from him.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from across the table. The table was silent for a few minutes.

When Yoongi finally found the courage to look into Jimin’s eyes again, he saw that they were glassy and glazed over. His plump lips were trembling slightly like he was trying not to cry.

“H-Hyung,” Jimin finally spoke, his voice cracking as he fought to steady his breathing. “I think...I think whoever it is that you love...I think he’s starting to return your feelings.”

What?

Suddenly, Jimin was slapping a handful of bills on the table. “I have to—I’m going to go. Find that person and talk to him, h-hyung. Tell him you love him.”

“Jimin—” Yoongi started, alarmed as he watched Jimin stand up from the table and shrug a light jacket on. “Don’t go. You haven’t even properly eaten. Why are you—”

“Don’t—Don’t worry about me,” Jimin interrupted. “I’m...I’m fine. Just...remembered I have some things to take care of at home. Think about what I said, o-okay? Good—Good luck, hyung. I know you’ll find happiness. You deserve it.”

And with that, Jimin was storming out of the restaurant, leaving Yoongi staring at his empty seat with a perplexed look on his face. He flagged down the waiter and asked for a to go box for all the meat that he and Jimin had left untouched, his appetite suddenly vanishing.

He left the restaurant while pondering Jimin’s words carefully, and when he returned home, the first thing he did was open up his laptop and type in “Hanahaki disease cures.”

He clicked on the first link that popped up.

“Hanahaki disease can be cured using two methods. One, a newly popularized innovation of modern medicine, is selective memory erasure, in which a psychiatrist, using descriptions of the loved one and other information provided by the patient, carefully chooses and maps where certain memories of unrequited love may be within the brain. These memories are then removed using photo-therapeutic methods, involving a series of multi-colored flashes that both soothe and stimulate the brain in order to produce antibodies that destroy brain cells linked to memories of the loved one. Once the memories are gone, presumably the emotions within the memories will have been erased as well…”

Yoongi scrolled through all the scientific and medical details until he reached the bottom of the page.

“...The only other known way to cure Hanahaki disease is for the love to become requited. This is extremely rare, as Hanahaki disease typically emerges within four to six days after the unrequited love is developed and sufferers typically have a four to six month expected lifespan after the initial retching of flower petals, which does not provide a sufficient time frame for one to develop a love or relationship deep enough to cure the disease. Unlike method one, which has a 98 percent success rate, seeking and pushing for requited love is only successful is about one in every five hundred cases due to the difficulties of cultivating profound emotional connections in such a short span of time. However, this method allows the sufferer to keep all of their memories intact, without the risk of accidental over-erasure of memory (which occurs in one in every ten thousand cases of selective memory erasure), and presumably, leads to greater future happiness for the sufferer. It is unclear at this time if the Hanahaki disease leaves a genetic footprint, similar to a virus, but regardless, seeking treatment as soon as possible is the best way to ensure survival…”

Yoongi slammed his laptop shut. Holy shit.

He had already outlived the four to six month expected lifespan, and his condition wasn’t worsening at all. He hadn’t ever gone to see a doctor or psychiatrist, so did that mean…?

Yoongi swallowed hard as he pulled the covers up over his body and gently laid his head to rest on his pillow.

His love was requited. That much had to be true, given the improvement in his condition over the past few weeks and months.

The problem was, Yoongi was in love with Jimin. Who he was pretty sure was in love with someone else.

And none of this information really explained Jimin’s strange behavior tonight.

Or did it?

❀

Everything had stopped. The nausea, the dizziness, the petals...everything.

For the first time in months, Yoongi felt...great. Healthy, even.

“Hey, hyung, can you get me some more pink daffodils so I can finish up this bouquet?” Jimin asked without looking up.

Yoongi instantly turned towards Jimin. “Sure, just give me a sec.”

Jimin hadn’t said anything more about what had happened that night two weeks ago. Yoongi had found himself lying in bed late at night, pondering just what was going on, and what his current condition said about his relationship with Jimin.

At first, a small part of Yoongi had told him to just straight up tell Jimin that he was in love with him. But he had quickly shot that down, not wanting to make their tentative friendship any more awkward. Something had been off between them ever since that night, and Yoongi was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject to clear the air between them.

Yoongi picked out a couple stems of daffodils from their stockpile and walked towards the counter where Jimin was working. He cleared his throat quietly. “Um, here,” he muttered plainly, thrusting the flowers towards Jimin.

“Thanks,” Jimin mumbled, making eye contact with him briefly before reaching for the flowers with nimble fingers.

Their hands brushed, and a strangled noise left Yoongi’s throat. His heart was beating rapidly again and his felt his palms starting to sweat slightly.

Jimin gave him a strange look. “You okay? What was that?”

“Uh...nothing. Just had...something stuck in my throat,” Yoongi replied with his cheeks flushed red from embarrassment.

Jimin turned away from him. “Oh. Okay.”

Yoongi stood there stiffly for a few moments, simply watching Jimin work in silence.

“Do you need something, hyung?” Jimin finally said to break the eerie silence in the room.

Yoongi hesitated. “Are we...okay?”

Jimin tied off the bouquet and set it down before turning to stare at Yoongi quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“I...I feel like things have been...weird...between us lately. Am I just imagining it?” Yoongi asked in a soft voice, hoping he wasn’t pushing too far.

Jimin licked his lips contemplatively. “You never did tell me how things went. Did you win him over or something?”

“Jimin, you’re confusing me—”

“You seem like you’ve been doing a lot better lately, so I guess things worked out for you or whatever—”

“Can you just stop—”

“I’m happy for you, hyung, you know? I think—”

“Jimin, please just be quiet,” Yoongi snapped before sighing deeply. Jimin closed his mouth and lowered his eyes at Yoongi’s outburst. Yoongi ran his hands through his hair and swallowed hard before speaking again. “Seriously, Jiminie, what’s going on? Why are you talking like this?”

Jimin wouldn’t look up to meet his eyes. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it matters to me since you’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for two weeks and I don’t even understand what I did—”

“You didn’t do anything,” Jimin interrupted softly. He sounded fragile, his voice so breathy it sounded like a wisp of wind to Yoongi’s ears. It sounded like he was about to crack at any moment, and it was terrifying to Yoongi.

“Jimin, please,” Yoongi whispered. “Tell me what’s going on.”

He heard a small sniffle, but Jimin’s head was still bowed, his long bangs hanging in front of him and obscuring his face from Yoongi’s view.

“Can you...Can you answer my question first, hyung? Are you...with someone right now?” Jimin’s voice sounded thick again, and Yoongi felt his stomach sink.

“No. I’m not,” he answered simply after a beat of silence. “Nothing happened that night.”

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Jimin.

“I’m...sorry, hyung. That sucks.”

Yoongi felt like he was being suffocated. “Sure…”

Jimin didn’t say anything for few moments. “If I...If I tell you this, you have to...Just don’t flip out. Like you promised me two weeks ago.”

Yoongi nodded, even though Jimin probably couldn’t see it since he was still staring at his shoes. “Yeah. Are you going to tell me who you’re in love with right now?”

“Y-Yes.” Jimin took a deep breath. “I—I think I’m in love with you, hyung.”

What the fuck.

“A-Are you being serious right now?” Yoongi found himself blurting out.

“You promised not to freak out,” Jimin reminded him gently. “I’m—I’m sorry.”

Yoongi frowned. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“Because you have...that other guy, right? That you’re never going to get over? And I’m just like, burdening you right now. I don’t know. I thought I could just keep it in for a little bit more, to just be a good friend and support you or whatever, but I guess I’m just...really bad at this. I’m sorry I’ve been so cold lately. I just...Sometimes it’s hard to be around you and to know that you’re in love with someone else,” Jimin finished in a weak voice. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you,” Yoongi replied without hesitation. “I…”

Yoongi closed his eyes as his mind reeled, struggling to keep up and process all of what Jimin had just said.

“Jimin, there is no other guy. There never was another guy.”

“What? But you said—”

“I meant you. It was always you. I...I guess it makes sense that my disease went away a little while ago,” Yoongi frowned again as he tried to put all the pieces together in his head. “I suppose I had never thought about this possible outcome.”

Yoongi stared out the windows as silence fell over them again. He heard some faint rustling coming from Jimin’s direction but he ignored it, choosing to just focus on his own breathing to calm his racing heart and mind.

“M-Me?” Jimin finally asked in a small voice. “All this time?”

Yoongi almost laughed. “Yes. You. It’s always you.”

“But why? I’m...I don’t think I’m anything special.”

This time Yoongi actually laughed. “You clearly don’t know yourself then. Or you don’t know yourself the way I do.”

“All the things you said, about being selfless and caring and beautiful...did you mean it?”

“Of course I did,” Yoongi replied sincerely. “Of course I meant it.”

Jimin exhaled a shaky breath. “I can’t believe this.”

“I feel like that should be my line, considering I spent months puking petals over you.”

Jimin whacked his arm playfully. “Don’t remind me of that! Jesus, I was so fucking scared for you; you have no idea.”

“Sorry,” Yoongi muttered. “Maybe you should’ve like...loved me back faster or something. When did that happen, by the way, I’m so confused —”

“Like right before Easter, I started to really...question myself. About how I acted around you, how much I enjoyed our dinners together, how I would make up excuses to work really close to you whenever I could. At first I was like, ‘oh we’re just super close friends or something,’ but then I starting getting these...dreams…” Jimin’s face was flushed bright red. “Yeah…”

Yoongi blinked at him. “What kind of dreams?”

Jimin buried his face in his hands. “Let’s not talk about this right now. Oh my god…”

“You realized you loved me because you had a wet dream about me?”

“Don’t say it like that!” Jimin protested. “It wasn’t just that...like there were a lot of things going on, but um...when that thing happened it kind of pushed me over the edge and made me confront everything.”

“That’s like ‘no homo, bromo’ to the extreme.”

“S-Shut up!” Jimin giggled before slapping Yoongi’s arm.

Yoongi saw a flash of red from behind Jimin’s back. “What’s that in your hand?”

Jimin’s face was a warm pink. “Promise not to laugh.”

Yoongi let out a small “pffft” before agreeing.

Jimin slowly pulled his right arm out from behind his back and gingerly held a red rose out to Yoongi. “It’s cheesy, I know. But we’re in a flower shop, and I just told you I loved you, so…”

Yoongi accepted the rose, carefully twirling the stem in between his fingers. “This is kind of perfect. I kind of wish I had thought of this.”

“We can pretend this didn’t happen and you can run to get me a rose of your own or something,” Jimin teased.

Yoongi bit his lip, considering for moment. “Wait here,” he commanded before taking off to the back of the store, where they kept their less popular flower breeds.

He scanned the shelves slowly before his eyes landed on the flower he was searching for. He nabbed one of them and headed back to Jimin.

He held it behind his back as he spoke. “I guess this isn’t as overtly romantic as a red rose, but um...here you go.”

Yoongi held out the small jasmine flower to Jimin.

Recognition instantly lit up in Jimin’s eyes as he took the flower from Yoongi.

He stared at it in awe for a few seconds before commenting, “This is weirdly perfect.”

Yoongi laughed. “Yeah. And ironic too.”

“Is it weird if I say I think jasmine flowers are my favorite now?”

“No, I think they’re my favorite too. I think there’s a reason why they manifested inside of me.”

Jimin smiled, and Yoongi felt his heart melt.

“You know, since we’re both florists...this means we can be super cheesy with each other and get bouquets for each other for every date, right?”

Yoongi giggled. “Of course, if you want.”

Jimin hummed in response, leaning in to sniff the jasmine flower briefly.

“Um...speaking of dates,” Yoongi started. “Dinner after work sound okay?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Jimin beamed. “That sounds awesome.”

Yoongi nodded, feeling a wide smile curling at his lips. “Okay, so I guess I have like...three hours to make the most fabulous bouquet to sweep you off your feet.”

“No, this means I have three hours to make the most beautiful bouquet the world has ever seen. With all due respect, I’ve been in this industry longer, so I think I’ll be doing the sweeping off the feet,” Jimin teased.

Yoongi scrunched his nose. “You’re mean. My uncle owns the shop, you know. He buys all the flowers we use.”

“He won’t be mad if I use up all of our supply of roses if he knows it’s for his nephew, right?”

“...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Jimin giggled. “Okay, shoo now.” He cutely gestured at Yoongi to leave. “I need to work on this bouquet now that I’ve set such high expectations for myself.”

Yoongi covered his mouth as he laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Jimin cupped his face in his hands, squishing his cheeks slightly. “Really?”

Yoongi sighed, admiring the smooth slope of Jimin’s nose, the fullness of his pink lips, and the roundness of his almond shaped eyes. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

Jimin flushed visibly, his face almost as red as the rose he had handed Yoongi earlier. “S-Stop.”

Yoongi smirked. “Never.”

Jimin giggled into his hands and they shared a look, one that caused Yoongi’s breath to stutter in his chest before he looked away shyly, mumbling something about going back to work and leaving Jimin alone before heading back towards the front counter.

❀

Yoongi supposed their love was a bit like spring: full of rainy and overcast days at first, before the sun slowly began to peek out of the clouds again and the flowers started to bloom.

As they walked hand in hand after their first date (Jimin had done well on his promise to present Yoongi with a show-stopping bouquet earlier that night), Yoongi couldn’t help but think about how natural and how good this felt.

Jimin turned to flash him a small smile that Yoongi returned shyly, his cheeks stained pink.

Jimin sidled up closer to him, so that their shoulders were just barely touching, and although Yoongi didn’t comment on their sudden proximity, he swallowed hard as he felt his heartbeat start to pick up again.

Once they reached Jimin’s apartment, Yoongi stood on the doormat awkwardly, not sure what to say or do to bid Jimin farewell.

He cleared his throat. “Um. Thank you for tonight; I really enjoyed it.”

Jimin grinned. “Me too. Feels like I’ve been waiting for this for forever.”

Yoongi bowed his head. “Well, you never said anything before, so I just assumed…”

He trailed off as Jimin took a small step towards him. He could feel their breaths mingling together, warm against his sensitive lips, and felt his throat become dry.

“Is this okay?” Jimin whispered, his face so close that Yoongi could count his eyelashes.

Yoongi released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Y-Yeah…”

Before Yoongi could register what was going on, Jimin leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss against Yoongi’s slightly parted lips.

Yoongi’s mind felt fuzzy as Jimin pulled back slightly, his face still barely two centimeters away from Yoongi’s.

“Was that okay too?” Jimin asked in a hushed voice.

Yoongi didn’t answer before closing the distance between them and slotting their lips together again. He smiled into the kiss and felt Jimin giggle slightly against his lips.

Yoongi wrapped an arm around Jimin’s waist and pressed just a little closer. Perfect, he thought. This is perfect. I feel perfect.

And for the first time in months, Yoongi welcomed the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach as he continued to gently and slowly kiss Jimin, exactly the way he had wanted to for so long.