Work Text:
When you started choking during brunch, you thought it was just some food that went down the wrong pipe. You excused yourself to go get some water, and headed to the fountain. When you tried to drink some of the water though, something else came out. From the color it looked like it was a clot of blood. But, it wasn't viscous enough. It looked light actually. Like a leaf. You picked it up, and as you did, you saw it shift colors, from black to dark red, to dark blue, and then back to black. Peculiar as it was, you didn't give it a second thought. Most likely and herb or leaf from your salad.
"I'm back." You said, returning to your weekly brunch date with Dark. The both of you called it a date, but there were no romantic feelings for each other, at least to the best of your knowledge.
"Everything alright darling?" Dark asked, concern in his voice.
"Just a tickle in my throat was all. Nothing major. Speaking of major, how did that deal go? I know it was pretty important that you got it." You asked.
"It went absolutely wonderfully. It took some convincing to get them completely on board, but that's to be expected. But soon they'll start on their way and once they reach their destination, well, guess who'll be there to welcome them?" He asked smiling and gesturing to himself.
"You, I take it." You responded.
"Right you are my dear. But I must inform you, due to this most recent deal, I will have to miss a few of our weekly luncheons. I hope that's alright." He said.
"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself." You said, reassuring him.
"Alright then. You have been taking care of yourself though, haven't you?" He said, concern re-arising.
"More or less. I'm functional to say the least." You responded, nonchalantly.
"But at what cost?" He asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" You teased.
"Yes! I would! So I can help you!" He exclaimed. "Given how much I can do I don't see the point in me not helping."
"It's a pride thing. I have to do it myself." You shrugged.
"But you truly don't." He countered.
"Dark, we can have this conversation another time. Maybe then I'll feel up to accepting your help. But right now, I have to get to class. It was a pleasure seeing you." You said, with finality.
"You are as stubborn as you are clever. I'll see you next week dear." He said frustrated, with a touch of care underneath. He then vanished into the shadows, leaving you to pack up your things and leave.
It was odd, your relationship with Dark. Given, he wasn't human, but that was what intrigued you most. You had seen him, or felt him rather, in the shadows. Heard the whispers of promises and praise, all for the small, small, price of your own soul. As much as those interested you though, you were far more intrigued by the being behind them. It also helped how stubborn you were, as he had mentioned, forgoing anyone's help to get what you wanted.
In the beginning, you had just ignored his whispers, choosing just to hear his voice. But you grew tired of that quite quickly. Soon, you were answering his questions, but never giving too much information, you knew of creatures like him, able to twist words and misconstrue what you meant. And so you talked. He would ask you what you wanted most in the world and you would respond with the most outrageous things.
"I want to know how to trapeze so I could run away with the circus."
"If that is what you want."
"I want to have a different pair of shoes for every single day of my life."
"Whatever you wish."
"I want to be a building."
"If that is what your heart most deeply desires."
He always said he could make it happen, for a price of course. But by that point you would rescind your wish and ask for something else. This kept on for months, and eventually he began to anticipate what you might say.
"A pair of jeans with no holes in them perhaps? Or maybe a never-ending shoelace? What about a jacket that can speak?"
"Hmm, all good ideas. But what if I wanted a book that could read itself?"
You could see him growing more and more frustrated as the weeks went by. But he also grew more and more outgoing. You finally knew what he looked like, finally saw him outside of his home in the shadows. His posture and disposition grew more lenient. Dare you say, he might've even trusted you. Your conversations moved from what you wanted, to what your life was like, to what you did. What he did. Who he was. What he was.
"I'm called many things, the endless night, the Boogeyman, the devil on your shoulder, impulse, typically negative things."
"What about Dark?"
"What do you mean, dark?"
"Like with a capital d. You say people call you such negative things, that people tend to fear you, so why not one of the greatest fears of all? The dark. The unknown. That which cannot be seen. It makes sense."
"Hm. I like it."
When he started popping in and out unannounced, that was when you had to change your dynamic.
"As much as I enjoy spending time with you, you can't just come in and out. Let's set a time and date to meet up, to catch up and talk. How does that sound?"
"Is that what you truly desire?"
"Quite a bit."
"Fine then."
"Great. We'll meet at the cafe across the street, once a week on the same day at the same time."
"I shall see you then."
And that was how it started. Weekly meetings, before you had class. It was nice, he usually treated you to whatever you wanted to eat, and you treated him to whatever he wanted to know. The exchange was, neither here nor there, but you enjoyed the time you spent with him. And as far as you knew, he enjoyed the time as well.
It was a few days after you weekly brunch date, that you got that tickle in your throat again. It was hard to describe, it felt like the sound of ruffling pages. But it was distinct. It was the same feeling you had felt during brunch. But you were in class, reviewing for the midterm, so it wasn't like you could just leave. So you toughed it out, coughing every now and then, easing everyone's worries if you were alright. And when your lecture finally ended, you rushed out to the bathroom, feeling nauseous. You stood over the sink, swiping your hair away from your face as you coughed, as you hacked up something out of your throat.
It was more leaves. They were exactly the same as the one before, changing in color depending on the angle you looked at it. And as you looked at them, you realized they weren't leaves, but rather petals. Of what flower though, you had no idea.
Why were you coughing up petals? Why did they shift in color? What the hell was going on?
You figured you could ask around later, or do some research on to what was going on. This couldn't have been normal. Though at the moment, you had to compartmentalize, midterms were coming up after all.
When you had gotten back to your room, you immediately went to researching. You were frantically looking up mixes of words like, 'coughing up petals' and 'petals stuck in throat'. Though it all yielded the same result. Something called Hanahaki Disease. Flowers that grow in your lungs due to unrequited love. The color of the petals, the shifting from red to black to blue, it all made sense. And with some reverse Google image searching, because of course you had taken a picture of the petals, what would you have told your doctor, you found it was a black dahlia. Betrayal.
And that could only mean one thing.
You had caught feelings for Dark, and he was just using you.
You could kick yourself. You weren't supposed to catch feelings for him. He was just supposed to be an enigma you got the luxury of observing. You weren't supposed to fall in love with him.
Be that as it may, he was going to be gone for a few weeks, so you had time. There were only two solutions you found, either you let the flowers grow, and die of asphyxiation, or you undergo a surgery that removes the flowers, but also your ability to love. Neither sounded quite pleasant.
What the internet search didn't tell you, however, was how painful it would become. Over the weeks that Dark was gone, you felt nauseous nearly everyday, and spent at least 10 minutes in front of the toilet, hoping that something else would come up. The only thing that ever did come up other than the petals was blood. It left your throat feeling raw and your stomach feeling empty. It was getting unbearable, but you pushed through. You kept going to class, you passed your midterms, and when Dark came back, you kept going to your weekly brunches.
You couldn't let him know, if he knew, he would just use it against you. And that. The fact that flower meant betrayal, that was what hurt you the most. You had actually thought you had formed a bond with him. Formed a something with him. But you were wrong. All this time, all the hang outs, all the shared talks, all that the two of you had done together up until now, it was all a ploy. You were just another deal to him.
And once you realized that, well that was when you stopped showing up. Because while to him this all might've been a game, the feelings you felt for him were real. You used to so look forward to your meetings, to talking to him, to spending time with him. The first time you saw him, out of the shadows, when he had finally let himself be seen? That meant so much to you.
He had tried to get in touch with you, check in to make sure you were ok. But you disregarded him, told him you were fine, just busy. You knew he would only buy that for so long though. Eventually, it had gotten so bad that you couldn't even find the strength to leave your bed.
But you resigned yourself to your fate. If this was how you were going to go out, then so be it. You would rather have lived a life loving than continue living to never love again. You could feel your days dwindling, energy leaving you as you tried to take care of yourself. This was when Dark chose to finally make an appearance. He hadn't barged into your room for some time now, so it was quite a surprise when he did. Maybe he had finally come to collect on whatever deal the two of you had made.
"Y/N, are you here?" He asked, looking around. He eventually found you in your bed, looking sickly and washed out. He ran to your side immediately.
"Y/N what happened? I was only gone a few weeks, what could've done this to you?" He asked, frantic.
You barely had the energy to answer, but you managed to get a single word out.
"You." And with that, you began coughing, clinging to Dark, as a full petaled, multi-chromatic, black dahlia was ejected from your mouth.
"Y/N I-I don't understand! How did you find out? I never meant for it to get this far, I thought I could change things. I-" He finally stopped, realizing he was talking to empty air. He felt your body slump against him, and he remembered your last word.
You .
Him. It was his fault. It all clicked into place. The flower, it was him, and you never knew about the deal. And he never realized. He felt something wash over him, your soul, as promised.
He finally had your soul, and it was functional, to say the least, but at what cost?