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A tiny magic shop in the lesser streets of Jericho still kept its lights on, despite being the only light in the entire street. The magician inside currently scurrying around the shop in a desperate search for a book that could give him an answer, was none other than a healer, which made the situation he was in not only ironic, but very tragic.
The first time Simon had coughed up one of those dreadful black petals the books described as the Hanahaki disease, he'd decided to ignore it. It couldn't be that of course, it had to be something else. After all, Markus was nothing other than a friend he admired very much.
There wasn't love , there wasn't devotion, there wasn't selflessness or anything other than a deeper connection. There was none of that, but that was only the mantra Simon had made for himself, because he knew very deep down that there was , but it would never be.
But as time went by the petals became harder to ignore, as well as his very deep crush for the man that lived in the big old house at the end of the street. Only this morning, he'd coughed up an entire black rose, which was the universe telling him he couldn't ignore his feelings anymore.
Except that instead of facing them, Simon had taken the route he was known for. He thought he could beat it, but the more he read, the more he experimented, the more he realized there was no way out.
And it got worse when morning came and he got a call from Markus.
"Hey! Just called to remind you of the event my dad's hosting tomorrow."
Markus' voice was cheerful and smooth, and as Simon's heart skipped a beat, another full rose came out of his mouth. This time it came with a thorn and it sliced little cuts across his throat, which caused a coughing fit before Simon could say anything.
"Simon?"
No response, only violent coughing.
"Simon, is everything alright?"
A smooth little bloodstained petal came out before Simon's coughing stopped, almost mocking him. He closed his glossy eyes and he could feel the little tears of pain on his lashes as he spoke with a trembling voice.
"Y-yeah. I won't be able to make it."
He'd tried to make his voice sound okay, but seeing as he failed he hung up in a moment of panic. He didn't want Markus to know, he didn't want Markus to see him like this, but he knew that hanging up the phone would only make him worry more.
Simon sat on the floor, where his coughing had taken him, defeated. He was kneeling in front of a mess of blood and black flowers with his right sleeve ruined by the red stains as his mind circled over and over again around Markus. Brave, kind Markus who would be so worried about his friend. Sweet, selfless Markus. Markus.
But a realization hit him so hard he suddenly had the strength to stand, and he ran to his books and then to his ingredients and vials and started mixing a potion that might be the answer. Not ten minutes later, the blue vial was glistening in his hands, and Simon had it pressed against his lips.
He closed his eyes and chanted the spell that would make him forget Markus, but as he tilted the vial he realized he couldn't do it. The vial was discarded and Simon was left defeated again, sitting at his desk feeling as another coughing fit came.
This time there were so many flowers, so much blood, and Simon closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to cry.
Curled around himself and with his forehead pressed to the desk, Simon cried because he didn't want to die. Not like this, not such a selfish death caused only by feelings he wasn't even supposed to feel. He didn't want to leave his friends, he didn't want to leave the shop.
But he didn't want to forget Markus.
There was a knock on the front door, but Simon ignored it. He didn't even have the energy to stand, not with the thorns pressing into his lungs. But the knocking continued and became more and more urgent, so Simon found the strength to stand and go across the room to the door.
"We're closed." He explained as loud as he could, clutching at the doorknob for support.
"Simon it's me. What's going on? Are you okay?"
It was Markus on the other side, and Simon could feel the thorns pressing harder, another flower coming out of his throat.
"Go away." He choked out, feeling his knees give in, and he was suddenly on the floor.
After that moment, all he saw were shadows of the door being unlocked by magic and a tall figure stepping inside before his world became black.
A few hours later he woke up to nervous chatter. The floor had been replaced by a bed, and from what he was able to see, he was in his room. Markus was there, but he wasn't alone. North and Josh stood behind him with worried faces and at first no one dared to say anything, but North was the first to speak.
"Why didn't you tell us you--" were dying . Simon knew she wanted to say that, but she didn't dare.
"North… It's no time for questioning him." Josh scolded her with a trembling voice.
Markus had cried, Simon could see it in his slightly puffed eyes, and it only made his heart and the thorns ache more.
"You broke that memory erasing potion… Simon I know you don't want to forget, but if you take it you'll live, please." He begged, holding a new vial close to Simon, but the urgency in his voice made everything worse and worse.
More and more flowers built up in his throat, and as Markus inched closer, Simon coughed all of them out.
"Please…" Simon managed in a trembling voice. "Markus please get out."
Markus looked so hurt that Simon didn't dare to look at him. He still didn't know, and maybe it was best if he never knew Simon died because of him. As he opened his lips to beg him again, more coughing came and with it more flowers and petals and thorns.
"It's you!" North shouted in realization. She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "God, of course, Markus of course it's you! I told you to tell him, you idiot!"
As North continued to shout angrily at him, Josh held her back, trying to calm her down while also taking her outside. Simon didn't need this stress, but most of all he needed to speak to Markus alone.
On his end, Simon's flowers became more and more frequent, specially now that his secret was out and Markus would feel compelled to accept his feelings, if only to save his friend's life. But the disease didn't work like that, Simon had read of cases where the love interest had tried that, only to have the person die anyway because the magic that caused the disease knew if the feelings were real.
It was even more painful than to die out of a plain rejection, so Simon wanted to beg for Markus to stop, to not do it, but all that came out of his throat were choked coughing and flowers.
"Simon…." Markus started with a hurt whisper. "I'm so sorry."
With that, Simon closed his eyes and expected the worst, but instead he felt the thorns pulling back slowly.
"You were always hiding from me, so I thought you knew how I felt. I thought you'd be uncomfortable if I told you so I never did… I never thought…"
As he trailed off, Simon could hear him crying and apologizing unintelligibly, but the thorns in his lungs were disappearing, and the flowers became petals and then stopped completely. Simon could finally look at Markus and he saw him kneeling next to his bed with his head turned down.
"Markus." He called, finally without petals or flowers but still with a trembling voice as the wounds hadn't healed.
The man with the mismatched eyes looked up in disbelief, and when he saw Simon looking at him he couldn't help but lunge forward and wrap his arms around him.
"Simon…" he whispered, holding him carefully but close, though it was short lived because soon Simon let go of him to cough a little blood again.
"Your wounds haven't healed." He said mostly to himself as he stood hurriedly. "I'll be back, hold on."
Markus had never been so glad to learn basic healing potions from Simon as he was now, hurrying downstairs past North and Josh's questions. In no time he was upstairs again, but his friends were nowhere to be seen. Of course, they were back in the room, showering Simon with affection.
"Guys," Markus started with a serious, protective voice. "He still needs to heal his wounds."
As the other magicians stepped aside, Markus handed the potion to Simon, who welcomed it like water in the desert. The effects were immediate. Simon sighed in relief as the pain in his organs ceased completely, and the others could see as the little cuts on his lips started disappearing.
The next day was uneventful and according to plan. At Carl Manfred's party everyone was dancing and talking and everything went as usual but this time someone was missing from the elder sorcerer's side.
Somewhere, far from everyone's eyes, two magicians were swaying to the distant sounds of the music downstairs, wrapped in each other's arms and whispering sweet nothings. If at one point they'd been afraid, now there was nothing that could stop them. As they kissed under the moonlight, the last of the black flowers that remained in Simon's house wilted.