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It starts with a slight tickle in his throat. Yeosang barely notices it till he has to start running some lines for their new song and he finds that he can not reach a particular note because of an insistent itch in his throat. Feeling slightly put out by it, he consults Jongho who tells him to drink some of the special tea he has.
Yeosang downs a couple of bags worth for the next couple of days but the irritation persists.
Then he starts coughing.
His manager immediately tests him for Covid and when that comes out negative Yeosang feels like he could breathe a bit easier because a positive result is the last thing he needs - his team needs - with all their busy schedules.
A couple of hours later, he wakes in the middle of the night coughing up a storm like he’s going to hack his lungs out of his body. From the noise, Wooyoung, who sleeps on the mattress across from him, startles awake but when Wooyoung tries to reach out to him Yeosang runs off. He holes himself in their bathroom and coughs into the toilet bowl because he’s almost sure he is going to throw up.
And he does. But not really.
Out of his mouth, covered in the slick of his saliva and some spots of blood, comes out a single lilac flower. Its petal has a strangely perfect heart shape to it and is a bright shade of purple.
“Hyung,” he hears someone call out - Jongho - he must have woken Jongho up with all his coughs.
“Yeosang,” another voice calls with a knock on the door, this one softer and all too familiar. Wooyoung.
Yeosang feels his throat start to get irritated again.
He closes his eyes and wills himself not to cry.
When Yeosang meets Wooyoung for the first time he barely notices the other. When he thinks about it later on in his life he wonders how that was even possible. Wooyoung has such a huge presence and easily takes up all the space in a room with his loud voice and playful laugh - one must be blind to not notice him even if there were a thousand others in a room with him. But alas, Yeosang doesn’t notice him.
It’s Yeosang’s first day at an entertainment company. And not just any entertainment company - one of the fastest-rising companies at the time - BigHit. He’s sweating in places that he did not know he could sweat and no matter how much he tries he could not force his mouth into a smile. He feels out of place - the imposter syndrome kicked in the moment the manager introduced him to a group of twenty-something trainees. And that’s not even all of them - just the batch that Yeosang would be training with. In total the company had upward of 50 trainees. He’s just one of so many who are trying to get their dreams fulfilled.
They were whispering about him before he could even bow to greet them. The manager leaves as soon as introductions are done and the group starts to do their stretches for their dance lessons. Yeosang stands awkwardly in front of them - not sure where to go.
They’re still whispering about him.
Just as he is about to start praying for the ground to swallow him up he sees a hand shoot up. He follows the hand and sees a boy around his age grinning widely at him. His hand shaking to indicate Yeosang to come forward.
Is he waving toward me or someone beyond me? There’s only a mirror behind me. Okay, so he is waving toward me. Move your legs Yeosang it would be weird if you ignore him.
Yeosang walks towards the boy, his steps heavy but his heart lighter than before because at least now he’s not just standing there awkwardly not knowing what to do.
The boy greets him loudly “Hi! I’m Wooyoung!”
There are a couple of boys next to him who also greet Yeosang but years later Yeosang does not even remember their names. One of them might have been Yeonjun? All he remembers is the boy with a bit too bright of a smile and a loud voice.
Wooyoung.
He had straight-cut bangs back then and a toothy grin - but most importantly when he had stared at Yeosang for the first time his eyes were bright with joy as if he was genuinely happy to see Yeosang.
"Hi Wooyoung," Yeosang nervously greets back.
Wooyoung. Wooyoung. Wooyoung.
Yeosang is not one to be quick to memorize names but he remembered Wooyoung’s easily.
“You need to call the manager,” Wooyoung whispers to him with urgency, his forehead wrinkled in concern and a deep frown set on his mouth. Yeosang had barely exited the bathroom before Wooyoung started to crowd into his space. Jongho at least has the sense to give him his own bubble as he stares at Yeosang with worry. But Wooyoung wouldn’t know the definition of personal space if it hit him in the head with the brick, so he quickly and suddenly is way too close to Yeosang.
Yeosang feels a cough rack up his throat again and he quickly muffles it with the crook of his arm but the sound is still too loud and he feels his chest burn with it.
Wooyoung winces, “Fuck Yeosang,” and then he reaches forward - probably to check his temperature - but Yeosang quickly dodges his touch.
“You don’t have Covid,” Wooyoung reminds him, because why else would Yeosang flinch away from him?
“I know,” Yeosang replies trying to put some space in between Wooyoung and him, “I just don’t want you - anyone - to be near me right now,” his voice sounds foreign even to himself - it was rough and crackly as if he has been parched from water for days.
Wooyoung pouts slightly, but he nods. The worried look doesn’t leave his face and Yeosang resists the urge to lean forward and smooth away the wrinkles that are forming on Wooyoung’s face.
“Let’s call the manager tomorrow morning,” Jongho says and Yeosang winces because he forgot for a good minute that the younger was even there. It’s ridiculous how Wooyoung is able to take all of his attention.
He coughs again into his elbow, this time he feels something rise up in his throat but he quickly pushes it down.
“I’m sleeping in the living room,” Yeosang mumbles, and though Wooyoung looks like he wants to protest he doesn’t say anything. Yeosang is just grateful that this was one of the nights that Hongjoong had decided to sleep in his studio.
The coughs crawl and rise out of his throat the whole night and he’s barely able to close his eyes though he feels exhausted beyond belief. As the peaks of the sunrise shine through his window, Yeosang feels his eyes finally drop shut.
And when he dreams he dreams of purple lilacs falling from the sky. Its petals are bright and perfectly heart-shaped.
Within a month of knowing Wooyoung, Yeosang finds himself attached to him by the hip.
“Let's do this together, Yeseong,” Wooyoung would say, “Let’s go there together, Yeosang,” he would exclaim.
Yeosang. Yeosang. Yeosang.
It’s like Wooyoung had gained an addiction to saying Yeosang’s name.
It’s not like Yeosang was annoyed by it per se, he was just confused. Yeosang is used to keeping to himself. Sure, he has friends in school but those are friends he was forced into friendships with because of proximity and even that took years to develop. He didn’t think he would make friends at BigHit - the competitive environment is not exactly a breeding ground for lifelong friendships - and he knows he wouldn’t be able to regardless. He’s awkward and shy and the type of person who would take a long route home just to avoid talking to someone.
But Wooyoung is insistent, to say the least. So Yeosang finds himself trudging along with Wooyoung’s plans, sticking by him during lessons and even walking with him to the subway on the way home. He doesn’t hate it though - of course, he doesn’t, everybody likes Wooyoung. He’s sweet, and just the right amount of talkative, and more than that he’s talented. His ranking for the monthly evaluations is insane, if he’s not in first place, he’s second and he’s never been below that.
So Yeosang is confused why someone like Wooyoung would willingly stick himself to Yeosang.
They’re walking back together to the subway (Yeosang has the sneaking suspicion that Wooyoung does not even take that particular subway line that they walk towards but goes to it just because Yeosang is) and Yeosang could not stop the question from itching in his head. The question that has been bothering him since he met Wooyoung. The question that had become louder in his head by tenfold that day. They had just completed their monthly evaluation and Yeosang didn’t place particularly well, on the other hand, Wooyoung was tied for first.
Wooyoung gently bumps his shoulder against Yeosang’s, “You want to ask me something Yeosang ah?” he asks, almost playfully, so that it could be played as a joke if Wooyoung had read Yeosang wrong. Of course, Wooyoung did not assume incorrectly, and he is doing that quite often - reading Yeosang correctly. Yeosang wonders if it’s because he’s an open book or if Wooyoung is just so attune to Yeosang’s behaviors already.
“Why do you want to be friends with me?” Yeosang blurts. He’s gone over the shyness period with Wooyoung already, and his straightforwardness is coming through more nowadays. The first time he had bluntly told Wooyoung something (words along the lines of ‘I think your laugh reminds me of this witch’s cackle on a cartoon show that I watched as a kid’), Wooyoung had immediately laughed. Taking no offense to it at all. Even though sometimes Yeosang’s childhood friends are taken aback by some of Yeosang’s words - Wooyoung took it lightly, as he does with so many other things. He had simply laughed. And Yeosang thought that he sure was right - Wooyoung’s laugh did sound like a witch’s cackle.
This time, however, Wooyoung does not laugh at the bluntness. In fact, his mouth has never been a straighter line.
“What do you mean?” he questions.
Yeosang shrugs, “You’re friends with so many people,” Wooyoung’s contact list is practically endless, “and you’re the top trainee in the company,” Yeosang is placed middle on his best days, “so why do you want to be friends with me?”
It’s a reasonable question, logical even. But his chest aches as he asks it.
Wooyoung stops in his tracks and Yeosang stops with him. Wooyoung’s mouth is curled into a tiny little frown and his eyebrow is scrunched up - like it usually is when he’s trying to execute a dance move that he quite can’t get right.
He opens his mouth and closes it and then opens it again. It’s strange to see Wooyoung so speechless, Wooyoung doesn’t seem to run out of words but here he is, unable to say anything. It would have been quite funny if it didn’t cause a stab in Yeosang’s chest.
“You’re pretty,” Wooyoung finally says, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Yeosang looks away.
Yeosang wasn’t sure if there was a right answer to his question. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear. But it definitely wasn’t this.
Yeosang has been called pretty his whole life. So much so that the kindness behind those words lost meaning. Though he knows he should never be ungrateful that he’s conveniently attractive - so many people in the entertainment industry would kill to have his looks - it often feels like that is all he amounts up to. A pretty face.
It’s what they whispered when he joined the company and what they still say now.
Wow he’s so pretty, he definitely got in because of his looks.
Damn, I wish I was that lucky. Kids like that don’t even need to work hard.
I swear he did not do as well as he ranked, good looks can get you anywhere damn.
It’s like no matter how hard he tries he only amounts to how pretty he is. And Yeosang hates it. He hates it so much.
Yeosang shakes his head and starts walking again, he could not trust himself to speak.
Wooyoung wordlessly follows, his hands outreached as he grabs Yeosang’s shoulder but Yeosang shrugs him away.
“Wait Yeosang I didn’t mean-”
“It’s fine,” Yeosang interrupts, because if that’s what Wooyoung felt then what was he to say to that? He thought Wooyoung would be different. He is as charmed by Wooyoung as the rest of them, but Yeosang should never think of himself so lucky. He cannot blame Wooyoung for thinking what everyone else thinks.
Wooyoung grabs Yeosang’s shoulder again, this time harder causing Yeosang to stop again in his tracks. With a slight pull, he forces Yeosang to look at him.
When Yeosang meets Wooyoung’s glance he finds the other looking at him with eyes filled to the brim with worry.
“I misspoke,” Wooyoung breathes, “I just - your question caught me off guard and - well you are pretty.”
Yeosang snorts humorlessly, how he wishes to destroy the word pretty from the world.
“But that’s not it,” Wooyoung continues, his eyes now wide with determination, “I want to be friends with you because you’re brilliant. You’re talented and you’re hardworking. And you’re so unbelievably kind - honestly too kind for the world we’re in. I sometimes want to just wrap you in a shell and just keep you away from anything bad.”
“You want to protect me?” Yeosang clarifies because that was the first time he’s heard that from anyone. He’s slightly amused by it honestly, at Wooyoung’s earnestness in the way he says it as if he truly signed up to be Yeosang’s bodyguard. Weirdly enough he’s not insulted by it. He imagines that if it is someone else telling him this he might have been. But with Wooyoung the words cause a strange warmth to spread across his chest.
Wooyoung shrugs in answer, “You’re a good friend and an even better trainee. Isn't that enough of a reason to want to be friends with you?”
Yeosang breathes out a sigh. He didn’t realize how tense his chest was till Wooyoung’s words. He hadn’t realized how much he valued Wooyoung’s opinion of him. It almost scares Yeosang how much he cares about what Wooyoung thinks.
“Okay,” Yeosnag responds shakily.
Wooyoung smiles at him, brightly and so beautifully that it makes Yeosang’s heart stutter.
“Would you consider me your friend?” Wooyoung asks simply, echoing Yeosang’s question.
“Yes,” Yeosang answers easily, he doesn’t even need to think about it.
Wooyoung wraps his arm around Yeosang’s shoulder like it’s in his second nature, “Good,” he says before he kisses Yeosang on his temple, right where Yeosang’s pink birthmark resides.
Yeosang flinches and is surprised that instead of revulsion, it’s caused by the sparks that jolt down his spine from the action. He knows Wooyoung is prone to kissing, he’s seen Wooyoung do it to so many others but it’s the first time he’s been on the receiving end of it.
Yeosang feels his neck grow warm, and he looks quickly around the street to see if anyone saw, “Stop, people will misunderstand,” he mumbles. His heart is beating unnaturally quickly and he doesn’t know why.
Wooyoung shrugs, “Who cares? This is how I show affection,” he replies nonchalantly and he kisses Yeosang again on the same spot. Yeosang doesn’t flinch this time.
“It’s the hanahaki disease,” the doctor confirms grimly.
The manager who is sitting next to him gasps but Yeosang doesn’t make a sound. He’s not surprised by it at all. A small part of him had hoped it was a fluke even though the chances of that were very unlikely. The disease is rare but there are not many other reasons why one would cough up flowers.
In hindsight, this horror makes sense. Yeosang supposes it's inevitable. He’s used to holding all his feelings inside anyway. But he would never have thought it would have manifested into flowers.
“It’s an incredibly rare disease but it happens,” the doctor continues, “especially if the feelings of unrequited love are strong. There are also some genetic factors involved but regardless Yeosang has it and it is not an easy disease to cure.”
Yeosang knows this. The manager knows this. The doctor probably knows that the both of them know this, but he’s saying it for formality's sake anyway. Hanahaki disease is a well-known horror story among most, especially among idols whose love lives are incredibly dangerous to their careers. Yeosang remembers Wooyoung telling a story of one of his idol friends getting the disease, he was unable to work for months and it was a nightmare for the agency to keep the whole thing under wraps.
At the thought of Wooyoung Yeosang starts coughing viciously. Grimacing, the doctor hands him a trash can and Yeosang coughs into it just in case he throws up. More flowers fall from his mouth. All of them are bright purple with perfectly heart-shaped petals. His manager rubs his back till the coughing attack ceases.
“What can we do?” the manager asks as Yeosang’s coughs quiet.
The doctor clears his throat, “Well one option is for Yeosang to confess his one-sided love. If the feelings are reciprocated, that’s great, everything will be back to normal. If it’s not then the symptoms would worsen. Which leads to option number two. Surgery. We can physically remove the root of the flower growth. The surgery is incredibly invasive and healing would take time. Considering Yeosang’s career it would mean he would be on a break for a long time.”
The manager nods as he rubs his forehead. Yeosang feels bad for him, it’s always been unsettling for him to watch other people suffer because of him.
“What are the side effects of the surgery?” Yeosang asks, speaking for the first time since the appointment had started. His throat still feels raw from the coughs and he sounds worse than he feels. Yeosang has heard rumors about the surgery, all of them are horrific, so he needs to know the truth.
The doctor sighs, “Since we’re dealing with removing the physical manifestation of your feelings, the removal would cause all substantial memories of the feelings to disappear. Often it would end with you losing all memories of that person.”
The last sentence hangs over the air between all of them. Yeosang takes a deep breath to steady himself, and the manager sighs beside him.
Eventually, Yeosang nods shakily, what he heard was right after all. His heart is pounding loudly in his ears and his head is starting to feel dizzy. His manager continues to speak with the doctor, talking more about the symptoms and the surgery. The doctor hands over a prescription to lessen the coughs, and right before they leave he says,
“It is recommended for Yeosang to avoid contact with the person as much as possible. The symptoms worsen with proximity. He needs to decide quickly on what he wants to do. If it is not dealt with swiftly it could lead to death.”
Another thing they all knew. The moment the word ‘hanahaki disease’ was uttered from the doctor’s mouth, everyone in the room knew that death was a very possible and real outcome.
The manager winces, “We will get back to you soon,” he says roughly, before grabbing Yeosang by the arm to hoist him up to leave. Yeosang is glad he did because he does not know if he would be able to move otherwise.
They’re quiet on the way back to their car. The manager’s mind is miles away and Yeosang is trying to think of absolutely nothing. He’s afraid that if he were to contemplate the predicament he is in he would succumb to a nervous breakdown. The last thing he needs right now is a nervous breakdown. Their comeback season is nearing, they still have a couple of photo shoots left, and they still haven’t picked out their stage outfits. They’re supposed to be filming for a variety show tomorrow and there are concert preparations to be done. He can not break down.
They get into the car and the manager allows a few minutes of silence as they drive before he asks,
“Who is it?”
Yeosang closes his eyes and leans his head against the window. The coolness from the glass is a huge contrast to the headache that is blaring inside his head.
He doesn’t answer.
“Are you going to confess to them?” the manager asks, moving on from the lack of response. Yeosang would have been thankful if he wasn’t sitting there wishing for this whole conversation to not happen in the first place.
“No,” Yeosang answers simply. He is not considering confessing. He’s never going to consider confessing.
“Okay,” the manager says slowly, “then we’re going to book for surgery.”
“No,” Yeosang responds firmly though it wasn’t a suggestion.
His manager does not say another word for a long time. In the silence of it, Yeosang finds himself succumbing to sleep. This time it’s dreamless.
He jerks back awake when the car comes to a stop. With blurry eyes, he looks around to find that the car has been parked outside their company.
“We’re not going to the dorms?” he asks in a daze and turns around to find the manager staring at him grimly.
“You’re going to see Hongjoong,” the manager says with finality, the curve of his mouth indicating that Yeosang had no way to get out of this.
Yeosang takes in a sharp breath, the manager must have made some phone calls while he was asleep, “You told them,” he startles, and the implication of it runs a burn through his bloodstream.
Wooyoung knows. Wooyoung knows. Wooyoung knows.
His mind alarms him and suddenly he can’t breathe. He grabs his chest as it tightens and he bends over. The coughs attack him before he can take another breath. His eyes fill with tears as the coughs force his way out of him. And soon he feels that lump in his throat again. Though he sees a splatter of blood on his hands he forces himself to cough harder. If he doesn’t he won’t be able to breathe.
His mind officially checks out for a couple of minutes and when he’s back his eyes are burning. His manager is saying something to him but he can’t decipher one word from another because his ears are ringing. With his sight also blurry he’s disoriented from having two of his senses incapable and takes a huge heaving breath to center himself again. It’s what he used to do when he got anxiety attacks - way back when performing on a stage was something scary and too big for him to handle - he never would have thought it would have become useful to him in a situation like this. He never thought he would be in a situation like this.
Yeosang takes the heel of his hands which are tainted with blood and wipes his eyes to clear his tears. When he takes in the sight in front of him he could not help a noise of shock from arising out his lips,
By his feet, splattered with blood and saliva is a heap of flowers. All of them are the same beautiful shade of purple and each and every petal is perfectly heart-shaped.
It is the most amount of flowers he had ever seen and all of them came from inside him.
Before Yeosang can make another sound, his manager forces a water bottle to his mouth and Yeosang takes large gulps from it.
“Fuck kid I thought I would have to call the ambulance,” the manager says, his voice shaking as he says so.
“Don’t call the ambulance,” Yeosang mumbles, his voice barely there.
The manager warily watches as Yeosang downs an entire water bottle. And when he gives Yeosang another one, Yeosang finishes half of it before he’s able to speak again.
“Did you tell all of them?” Yeosang croaks, his voice shaking in a way that has nothing to do with the coughs but everything to do with the number of flowers laying on the floor.
“Only Hongjoong,” the manager reassures, then after a pause he adds, “it’s not him is it?”
Yeosang feels all the tension bleed out of him. He shakes his head and takes a huge gulp of water.
After he swallows he takes deep steadying breaths until his heart is beating regularly. He clutches onto the car handle till his knuckles turn white and he feels completely exhausted though he just slept.
“Don’t tell the rest of them,” Yeosang eventually says, “please,” he pleads, his voice more vulnerable than he wants it to be.
The manager looks at him with understanding. But in a way like he knows more now than he had wanted to. He looks more aged than Yeosang has ever seen him, but worse of all he looks sad.
“Okay,” he promises.
Walking up to Hongjoong’s studio was a lot more difficult than it should have been. Yeosang’s legs were like lead, and with the recent cough attack, his head was throbbing uncontrollably. The manager practically carries him into the elevator and when the elevator dings up the studio floor and its doors open, Hongjoong is standing there. Waiting for god knows how long.
Hongjoong looks up at the sound of the elevator door opening and his eyes immediately land on Yeosang. Yeosang whose leaning heavily against the manager’s shoulder and whose eyes are shrouded in black. Yeosang whose lips are cracked and splattered with slight blood and whose hair is mangled up and sideways. Yeosang whose face is paler than usual and looks like he’s three steps away from death. Yeosang who looks very much unlike himself and who looked perfectly fine yesterday. Yeosang who was perfectly fine yesterday if not for an insistent itch in his throat and a few coughs.
And when Yeosang looks at Hongjoong, he immediately wants to hug him. Because Hongjoong’s eyes are rimmed in red like he’s been crying and his hair is all over the place like had been tugging on it for hours. And he’s looking at Yeosang like he…like he lost him already.
Hongjoong immediately grabs Yeosang from the manager, and though the older is both shorter and weaker than Yeosang he manages to help him to their studio. Yeosang doesn’t protest the whole way through - this is something Hongjoong needs more than him after all.
Hongjoong manages to plop Yeosang down on the sofa as gently as possible and the carefulness causes Yeosang’s eyes to go moist. Hongjoong sits on the chair across from him and for a few moments they just stare at each other. Hongjoong’s eyes rakes over Yeosang’s body and the more he stares at the other, the wetter his eyes became. The bottom of his lip is caught between his teeth and his hands are fidgeting at his sides. Hongjoong is debating on what to say while Yeosang is just waiting - his throat nor his heart will allow him to start the conversation.
After a couple of seconds, Hongjoong takes in a deep breath and says,
“Wooyoung.”
That’s it. Just that one name. And like a curse Yeosang feels a lump form in his throat.
All Yeosang does is nod and Hongjoong brings his palms up to his face to hide whatever expression that dawns on his face. For a second Yeosang is frightened that Hongjoong might be in tears, but instead Hongjoong just takes another ragged breath before he removes his hands from his face - schooling his expression as he does so.
Now Yeosang is not staring at Kim Hongjoong, instead he’s staring at Ateez’s leader Captain Hongjoong.
“You need to do the surgery,” Hongjoong says, but even though his face is grim and his mouth is set in a stubborn line, he doesn’t say it like an order. It comes out as a plea.
Yeosang stares back at him, unwavering, “I can’t,” is all he says to that.
Hongjoong’s mouth twists into a frown, “And then what? You’re going to die for this?” Hongjoong asks, taken aback, his worry mangled with frustration at Yeosang’s stubbornness and ridiculousness.
“The surgery and its recovery will take a long time,” Yeosang protests weakly, “I won’t be able to promote for a long time.”
Hongjoong’s frown grows deeper, “So? You can be on hiatus for however long you need, we will wait for you. The fans will wait for you.”
“You don’t understand hyung,” Yeosang argues, his voice the loudest it's been all day, and it’s hurting for him to even talk but the pain is just a slight throb to even the thought of going through with the surgery.
“This is not worth dying for Yeosang,” Hongjoong reprimanded harshly, his words coming harsh and brittle. But he wasn’t wrong. Hongjoong rarely is. And of course he isn't. Yeosang knows how stupid he sounds. The cure is right there in front of him, but he would rather walk to his grave than take it. It’s foolish and stupid, but Yeosang just can’t.
“Dying is only a possibility,” Yeosang argues because technically it is.
“It’s a high possibility if you’re around the person that’s causing the disease,” Hongjoong reminds bluntly, “which because of your job, you are ,” pinching the bridge of his nose he adds, “yes this surgery is your choice, but you don’t have a lot of cards laid in front of you Yeosang. Realistically you have two options. First, one that I will never condone: leaving the group-”
“I am not leaving the group,” Yeosang interrupts, though he knows Hongjoong knows.
“-and the second: getting surgery. I know you don’t want to die. So why are you resisting surgery?”
Before the repulsion against it was hard to even form into words. But when Hongjoong asks him the question, it pokes a nerve and he feels the truth arise out of him.
“I don’t want to forget him hyung,” Yeosang whispers softly, the words falling out of his mouth like a deep confession.
Hongjoong stills. He regards Yeosang silently as the words sit above them in the air.
“He will still be here when you get back Yeosang,” Hongjoong reminds him gently after a long period of silence, “and I know it won’t be the same but you’re luckier than most who get the surgery. A lot of your memories with him are digitized, and the memories will still be there for you to watch afterward. It won’t ever be the same but it’s better than dying.”
Yeosang is getting quite tired of hearing about his own death.
“And how will our group function,” Yeosang mumbles tiredly, “if I forget one whole member?”
“We can restart activities as 8 once you get to know him all over again,” Hongjoong answers quickly, as if he thought about the whole thing already which he probably did, “most patients of hanahaki disease are told they have selective memory loss when they wake up after surgery. It will take time but you will relearn him and after it will be the eight of us again.”
But it won’t be the same. It will never be the same.
“You’re being too optimistic,” Yeosang protests.
“I want us to remain 8,” Hongjoong says firmly, “don’t you?”
Yeosang winces. It’s a quite cruel blow and Hongjoong knows it. Yeosang loves the group more than anything. It’s what destroys him about the whole thing in the first place. The way he had just made things in their group way more complicated because of this.
“I just…” Yeosang starts, and he feels his words fail him.
You need to be honest. It’s Hongjoong. He deserves it.
“I’m scared of Wooyoung finding out,” Yeosang manages to reveal honestly, “he’ll figure it out, especially when I seem to only forget him. I don’t want him to know,” he sounds pathetic even to his own ears. But he can’t help it. He’s hidden this part of him for so long, he is terrified of what will happen if his biggest secret is revealed to the one person he didn't want to know.
Hongjoong simply tilts his head at that, “He won’t think any less of you Yeosang,” he replies simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
No, but he will feel sorry and that’s so much worse.
Yeosang doesn’t say that though, he is not sure if he’s ready for that level of honesty, “Your closest friend being in love with you to the point of contracting a whole disease is kind of a hard thing to swallow,” he retorts bitterly instead.
Hongjoong sighs, but he doesn’t deny it, “He will get over it, you know how he’s like,” Hongjoong insists, then after a pause he adds gently, “he does love you.”
Yeosang feels something rise up his throat again and when he takes another breath the coughs rack up and spill out of his mouth. Thankfully, this attack is short and does not result in any flowers out of his mouth as Yeosang forcefully swallows them down. Yeosang is not sure how Hongjoong would react if he were to see the flowers. Hongjoong is already just hanging by a thin thread. The sight of the flowers would push the leader to the edge and cause him to have a meltdown.
As the cough subsides, Hongjoong extends a water bottle towards Yeosang which the younger takes gratefully.
Once Yeosang downs the whole thing, Hongjoong says,
“You can’t go back to the dorms.”
Yeosang freezes and Hongjoong sighs again.
“You have to stay away from Wooyoung till you get the surgery.”
“I didn’t agree to the surgery yet.”
“Yeosang-”
But Yeosang doesn’t let Hongjoong argue, “I’ll move back to my parents' place for a bit. And then I will decide what to do.”
Hongjoong’s shoulders droop, defeated.
“Okay,” he agrees, the fight having been drained out of him.
Then he steps forward and crushes Yeosang into a hug. Captain Kim Hongjoong has bled out and what’s left in its place is just 25-year-old Kim Hongjoong - Yeosang’s hyung and close friend. Yeosang hugs him back tightly and tries not to cry. Hongjoong tries to do the same.
Blatantly Yeosang realizes that Hongjoong didn’t even consider a confession as a possibility. He doesn't know whether to be insulted or relieved. It’s strange to have people that understand you so well - but Yeosang is thankful for it because that omits the pain of saying truths that he would rather not speak out loud.
The day Wooyoung joins KQ entertainment, Yeosang takes him home with him. It doesn’t take much convincing. All Yeosang does is go up to Wooyoung and ask him if he wants to hang out with him after practice and Wooyoung agrees easily. Yeosang doesn’t make it a habit to invite people to his house - mainly because his parents are particular about it but that day his parents weren’t home and his sister was out on a trip. If Wooyoung was surprised about Yeosang inviting him to his house, he doesn’t show it.
Wooyoung showing up at KQ was a surprise. But out of all the emotions that bloomed, the surprise was the least prominent one.
Wooyoung had fit in so easily - because of course he had. Even Hongjoong, who is not as easily charmed was enamored by Wooyoung by the end of the day, and the staff loved him easily because he’s just so good and they couldn’t believe they had got so lucky to have gotten him to join. Wooyoug is practically guaranteed to debut and by the end of the day, Yeosang felt a sort of wholeness in his heart that he didn’t know he lacked in the first place.
At Yeosang’s house they’re sitting outside in the backyard. It’s pleasantly warm and quiet. The sun has just started to set and they’re in the midst of eating the popsicles that Yeosang had managed to dig out from his freezer.
Wooyoung, being the menace he is, is a popsicle biter and manages to down the whole thing in four bites. Yeosang, being the normal one, is barely midway through his own popsicle by the time Wooyoung finishes. So Wooyoung busies himself by staring at the garden that Yeosang’s mother had perfectly crafted. Though Yeosang doesn’t care about it on most days he has to admit on this particular day the garden looked beautiful. All of the flowers were in full bloom - there were groups of roses that were as red as rubies, tulips that were pink as cotton candy, daisies that were tall and outreaching towards the sun, and lilacs with such a beautiful bright purple shade to them.
“Your mom put a lot of work into the garden,” Wooyoung compliments, “it’s beautiful.”
Yeosang turns to look at Wooyoung. Wooyoung had gotten his hair dyed recently - a slight auburn color that suited him tremendously. The hair is chopped in a way that had bangs covering his forehead - similar to the haircut that he had when Yeosang first met Wooyoung. But this Wooyoung is so different from the Wooyoung he had first met. His smile is softer and his eyes are sparkling with a gaze of expectation and excitement for what’s to come. But there’s also wiseness in his glance that was never there before - a sense of maturity that only comes with the hardships that someone like Wooyoung had to face.
They’ve grown a lot in the past few years they have known each other. Yeosang sometimes misses the innocence that they had.
But he cannot deny that the years have also given Wooyoung the gift of beauty. He has always been a stunner - but now he’s more sure of himself, his head is held higher and his shoulders are always straight with pride. That confidence is sexy. Yeosang cannot deny that anymore. That admission itself is a type of maturity.
“Why did you join KQ?” Yeosang asks, a bit out of the blue, but it isn't an unexpected question.
Wooyoung shifts his attention from the garden to the boy sitting next to him. His smile even puts the beauty of the setting sun to shame.
“Cause you are there,” Wooyoung answers simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “if I was going to succeed I’m going to do it with you. If I am going to fail, I am going to fail with you.”
Then he turns back and looks at the garden as if he hadn’t just uttered the words that would change Yeosang’s life.
Yeosang had always known what he felt for Wooyoung was strong. Everything with Wooyoung is always in the extremes - you either really really like him or you really really don’t. Yeosang doesn’t quite trust people who are in the latter.
He had always known that Wooyoung would be the type of friend he would never forget till the day he died. In the period of time they had known each other, Wooyoung had managed to embed himself so deeply into Yeosang’s heart that Yeosang wouldn’t be able to remove him even if he tried. They have been through hell and back together and there is no one else that Yeosang would trust more to have his back in his worst times than Wooyoung. That comradery, that friendship, had pulled Yeosang along through his toughest times. It's no wonder it had manifested into something else.
Yeosang has never been in love before so he wasn’t able to spot it. But when Wooyoung had uttered those words, and when Yeosang’s heart had tripled in speed as a response, the only thing he could think of was how much he wanted to lean in and kiss Wooyoung at that moment.
Later he figures he should have been more shocked or at least partially disgusted at himself for wanting that with his best friend. But at that moment, with the flurry of emotions that were circling that day, the feeling just felt right to Yeosang.
From that moment he first feels it, he takes that feeling and buries it deep within his heart.
“Ugh,” Wooyoung suddenly groans, and Yeosang immediately straightens and pulls himself out of his own thoughts. Over the years he has become surprisingly good at compartmentalizing and it was a blessing at that moment.
“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asks, his voice unwavering and straight-laced as if he hadn’t just come to an earth-shattering realization moments ago.
“I need to break up with my girlfriend,” Wooyoung pouts, saying it as if it was just an annoying chore on the list that he had to get done.
Yeosang blinks. He, in all honesty, completely forgot about her existence. The girl was someone that Wooyoung was pretty close with for the past couple of years and she very obviously had a crush on Wooyoung during that time. But since he couldn’t date while he was a trainee, he only started dating her when he left BigHit. She was nice but Yeosang never particularly liked her. As Yeosang’s own feelings dawned on him, it’s no wonder he didn’t.
“You don’t need to break up with her,” Yeosang replies, trying to keep the strain out of his voice, “KQ isn't as strict as BigHit. They probably won’t be happy if they ever figured it out but they won’t kick you out for it.”
Wooyoung shakes his head, “She’s not worth it,” he states bluntly, “she’s nice but I don’t like her that much. Besides, I will be too busy to be a good boyfriend anyway.”
Yeosang feels his shoulders relax, and he sighs.
“Don’t break her heart too much,” he says lightheartedly, a teasing tilt to his mouth.
Wooyoung snorts, “Probably going to bring her flowers or something to soften the blow,” then he turns to Yeosang, “what do you think I should get her?”
Yeosang tilts his head. He’s surprised that Wooyoung had directed the question at him. He’s never dated anyone before, much less given anyone flowers. He is slightly knowledgeable about it though - his mother often rambles about her garden and most of the time its Yeosang who is caught by her and has to listen.
He surveys the garden and spots the flower that is perfect for Wooyoung.
“Lilacs,” he says, staring at the beautiful shrub that had grown in his garden. The petals of each lilac are a rich purple color that glowed even among the other alluring flowers that surround it. Its petals are each seemingly perfectly heart-shaped.
Wooyoung stares at where Yeosang is looking with a raised eyebrow, “Why?”
“They kind of remind me of you,” Yeosang answers with a shrug though his heart is starting to race a mile per minute again.
They’re beautiful, just like you.
Wooyoung turns towards Yeosang with a slight scrunch to his forehead, “Lilacs?”
Yeosang feels the tip of his ears grow warm and he hates that they’re probably red now, he hopes Wooyoung doesn’t notice.
“Lilacs represent playfulness,” Yeosang tells him, reciting what he heard from his mom, “it also represents self-assurance. All qualities that you have. And they’re also purple and pretty,” he adds to the end lamely.
Wooyoung grins widely, “Purple is a nice color and they are pretty,” he agrees.
Lilacs also represent first love.
As Yeosang is reminded of that fact, he suddenly doesn’t want Wooyoung to give his soon ex-girlfriend lilacs at all.
“Or you can give her roses,” Yeosang adds hastily.
Wooyoung purses his lips in consideration and Yeosang holds his breath.
“I might just give her roses honestly,” Wooyoung decides and Yeosang breathes a sigh.
He shouldn’t feel as relieved as he does.
Yeosang spends most of his days on his phone.
He isn't used to having this much time of the day to himself. Ever since he turned 18 his days were filled to the brim with things to do, even his off days were busy catching up with friends and family that he hadn’t seen or spoken to in ages. But suddenly now he seems to have an infinite amount of time that he doesn’t know what to do with.
KQ had announced his hiatus the day that Yeosang had decided to move back to his parents' house. All things considered, they worked pretty fast and he feels for whatever intern that had to work overtime to get it done. The manager had grabbed all of Yeosang’s things for him, put Yeosang in the car, and drove back to his parents’ place before Yeosang could even comprehend what was going on.
He had gotten a flurry of messages from all the members. All of them asking variations of “what’s going on” and “are you okay.” Yeosang tried not to look at any of them because if he does he would be tempted to think of the one person he was trying hard not to think of all day. It’s even tougher to ignore all the calls because he doesn’t know what to say.
At some point, the messages cease, and he gets a phone call from Hongjoong.
“I’m sorry,” Hongjoong greets, “I know they have been bombarding you with questions all day.”
Yeosang would have been worried if they didn’t. He practically left out of the blue after all.
“What did you tell them?” Yeosang asks. He knows Hongjoong wouldn’t tell them the truth, especially since as Yeosang left the studio that day he practically got on his knees and begged Hongjoong not to tell any of them at the risk that Wooyoung might figure it out.
“I told them it’s a mental health break,” Hongjoong responds, “and to not bother you because you’re going through a lot.”
Yeosang sighs. Wooyoung probably had not bought that at all, but he knows the other is respectful enough to stay out of his way for now.
“I should reply to them soon,” Yeosang mumbles, mostly to himself.
“Reply to them whenever you can,” Hongjoong says gently, “they all understand. They’re worried and caught off guard by everything but they will understand if you don’t jump to respond to them quickly.”
Yeosang doesn’t want to leave them in the dark for too long though. Even lying to them leaves a sour taste in his mouth. They’re his family after all.
“I will tell them the truth hyung,” Yeosang says, “eventually.”
Probably when he goes to do surgery, if he decides to do it. Which he probably should. But thinking about it causes his head to hurt in a more painful way that even the coughing doesn't cause.
“It’s up to you Yeosang,” Hongjoong sighs, “we will be by your side no matter what.”
Yeosang closes his eyes, “Thanks hyung,” he breathes.
“Take care of yourself,” Hongjoong whispers, “we’ll see you soon.”
Yeosang misses his voice before Hongjoong even hangs up.
When Yeosang arrives home his parents don’t ask him too many questions. His manager had given them a run down for what had happened, and aside from the few concerned glances thrown his way, his parents don’t show any indication that something is wrong. Treating Yeosang coming back to their house like they do when he comes back for vacation. He’s never loved his parents more.
In the first week or two of his hiatus, Yeosang tried to be active, but the medication that he takes for his coughs has caused him to become lethargic so now he spends most of his days on his phone.
It’s not too bad. Mostly he’s on social media and he is reading comments that the fans have left for him. All of them are so wonderfully uplifting and lovely that it settles Yeosang’s heart which has been all over the place since the day he started coughing.
He’s also slowly starting to reply back to the members. Starting with the oldest and going down, skipping Wooyoung but then going back to him as he made the rounds because if he replies to everyone but Wooyoung the other would throw a fit.
The first time he replies Wooyoung just straight-up calls him as soon as he sees the text. They’re on the phone for about an hour, which is filled with Yeosang reassuring the other that he’s fine before Yeosang is forced to hang up because he feels his throat aching with coughs again. Though he had just taken the medication earlier that day, Yeosang ends up coughing up a handful of flowers in his toilet bowl.
After that Yeosang doesn’t pick up any of the member’s calls, stating that he just doesn’t feel like talking and his members don’t ask him too many questions about it and only stick to texting him. With the promotion period happening, the texts are few. And every time Yeosang sees them on stage without him he feels a hole drill into his chest. But in every video they say how much they miss Yeosang and how their performances aren’t the same without him and that soothes a part of his heart that is bleeding.
A month into his hiatus, his usual scrolling through his phone hour gets interrupted by the ring of his doorbell. He hadn’t ordered food, and his parents should have been out the whole day, so Yeosang is slightly wary when approaching the door. He clicks the button to check the front camera and a familiar face stares back at him.
“Yeosang ah!”
Yeosang freezes. Jung Wooyoung is looking at him through the camera, a wide grin on his face and his hands occupied with plastic bags. He’s wearing a cap and sunglasses with a black mask pulled underneath his chin (a very normal get-up for celebrities), but Yeosang can still discern that figure from millions.
“Open the door,” Yeosang could hear Wooyoung whine through the speaker of the camera.
Yeosang swallows. He already feels the itch start in his throat.
He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.
He presses the button to let Wooyoung in anyway.
Because more than anything Yeosang misses Wooyoung. He's used to seeing Wooyoung first thing in the morning and whispering to him goodnight before he falls asleep every night. Even when he’s on vacation Wooyoung constantly video calls him. Seeing Wooyoung again through that small camera by his door after the longest time he had not seen the other had caused him to throw all rationality outside his window.
Wooyoung steps inside like it’s in own house (at Yeosang’s old house his parents had given Wooyoung the house passcode, he’s sure the next time his parents see Wooyoung they would give him the new house’s password). Wooyoung slips off his running shoes (Yeosang notes that it's the pair that he had given Wooyoung for his birthday last year) and without any warning, he launches himself at Yeosang.
Yeosang catches him easily, and despite the hindrance of the plastic bags he is holding, Wooyoung manages to wrap his arms around Yeosang tightly.
“I miss you,” Wooyoung mumbles into Yeosang’s shoulder, so quietly that if Yeosang wasn’t hyper-aware of everything that Wooyoung was doing he would have missed it.
Wooyoung lets go of Yeosang as quickly as he had hugged him and shows him the plastic bags.
“Got you fried chicken,” he says excitedly, and then he pulls off his sunglasses and stares at Yeosang with eyes that are dazzling like a thousand stars.
Yeosang swallows down the cough that threatens to rise out of his mouth.
“What are you doing here?” Yeosang manages to croak out.
Wooyoung grins wildly, setting the plastic bags down on the table in the living room he says, “We have a bit of a break before our next schedule so I figured I can come to see you. The others wanted to come to see you as well but Hongjoong was being annoying about not disturbing you. Of course, I wasn’t going to listen to him, so I snuck out to come to see you. Took the first train I could here, and managed to walk the rest of the day. You know your parent’s new house is closer to the train station than expected and also bigger - damn.”
Yeosang probably understood about ⅓ of that entire ramble. He hasn’t heard Wooyoung go off like this in years - contrary to popular belief Wooyoung isn't prone to blabbing, he’s too much of a good talker to do something like that. He only starts rambling when he’s…
When he’s nervous.
Yeosang clears his throat, “You’re going to get in trouble,” he manages to say.
Why are you nervous? Is what he wanted to ask but he doesn’t because he’s sure he wouldn’t like the answer.
Wooyoung takes off his mask and puts that and his sunglasses in his pocket, “Yeah well you’re worth it,” he says, his eyes meeting Yeosang’s earnestly.
Yeosang’s mouth grows dry and he doesn’t reply. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth he might spill flowers all over the floor.
Wooyoung shifts his foot, and if it wasn’t apparent that he was nervous before, it is now.
“How bad is it?” Wooyoung asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Yeosang just shugs, because whatever words he would say would have to be a lie.
There’s a pause and neither of them makes any movement.
“I’m worried about you Yeosang,” Wooyoung finally breaks the silence, his voice trembling.
Just tell him you’re alright and eat chicken with him. A voice inside Yeosang tells him harshly. But Yeosang just can’t. He has never lied to Wooyoung’s face before and he doesn’t think he could do so convincingly now. And even if he could, the tightness in his chest is expanding more by the second and he’s unsure if he could hold himself together any longer.
Yeosang closes his eyes, and the Wooyoung peering worriedly at him disappears from his sight.
“I think you should leave Wooyoung,” Yeosang tells the darkness.
He thought he could handle it, but he can’t. Wooyoung is too much - Wooyoung has always been too much. His emotions for Wooyoung would always boil over and spill unto everything else.
There’s a shuffle of clothes rustling and footsteps. For a second Yeosang thinks that Wooyoung had actually listened and left. And he’s slightly surprised by that notion - Wooyoung just doesn’t listen that easily.
“I’m not leaving,” a stubborn voice announces from his left.
Yeosang sighs, he knew it would have been too good to be true.
Warily Yeosang opens his eyes and turns towards the sound. He finds Wooyoung sitting by the living room table, his feet firmly planted on the ground and his mouth in a thin firm line - he looks like even if Yeosang were to push him off he wouldn’t leave. But what catches Yeosang off guard is not Wooyoung’s stubbornness - he’s used to that by now. No, what catches Yeosang off guard is that Wooyoung had taken his cap off and he can now see Wooyoung’s hair.
Wooyoung had dyed his hair blond for the recent comeback, the shade being similar to the one he had during Say My Name, except his hair is cut shorter and has an undercut. Though promotions ended a couple of days ago, they usually don’t change their hairstyles that quickly. But Wooyoung must have not been satisfied with the past hairstyle, because he’s completely switched it up.
Instead of blond, Wooyoung’s hair is now completely purple. A beautiful, rich shade of purple.
It’s still a dulled-down purple - only slightly brighter than the hair he had for Pirate King promotions. But it suits Wooyoung incredibly well. Yeosang had always liked Wooyoung’s debut hairstyle the best. Something about the purple compliments Wooyoung’s tanner complexion wonderfully and more than that the color simply suits Wooyoung as a person. The richness of it and the magical touch of the color just embodies Wooyoung. It’s beautiful. Wooyoung is just so utterly beautiful.
This time when the coughs crawl out of Yeosang’s throat he can not do anything to stop it.
Soon he’s on his knees, coughing to the floor as he tries to dislodge the plant that is growing in his throat. It’s the most dense that he has ever felt it and Yeosang is pretty sure he might pass out soon from the lack of oxygen. Somewhere above him Yeosang can hear Wooyoung cursing, and there are warm hands on him which only makes the coughs worse as the thing in his throat expands, expands, and expands.
The next thing he knows he’s opening his eyes through tears. His cheek pressed on the cold hardwood floor and his mouth filled with blood and saliva. In front of him, laying amongst the spit, tears, and blood, is a lilac stem. A cluster of at least twenty lilacs growing from it. Its petals are perfectly heart-shaped and a bright shade of purple.
The color reminds Yeosang of Wooyoung’s hair.
Shaking, Yeosang sits himself up and wipes the tears from his eyes. As he blinks the tears away, a figure slowly comes into focus. One that’s sitting only a few paces in front of Yeosang.
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang manages to say, and he is surprised that his throat is still working and has managed to not rip apart from dislodging that whole plant.
Wooyoung stares blankly at the stem in front of him and then at Yeosang and then back at the stem. He looks like his soul had just left his body. In his hands is a water bottle that Yeosang has no idea where he got from and in another is his phone. Yeosang could see that he was in the midst of dialing 119. Yeosang doesn’t remember any of that though - his mind probably checked out while he was hacking the stem out of his body.
They sit in silence. Yeosang doesn’t know what to say. Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say.
And when Wooyoung does speak, he says the last thing that Yeosang wants to hear, “We need to go to the hospital.”
Yeosang wills all the energy he has left in him to shake his head firmly, “No I don’t. I have my diagnosis.”
Then he leans over and grabs the water bottle that’s been squeezed and forgotten in Wooyoung’s hands and downs the entire thing.
The whole time Wooyoung’s glance doesn’t leave the lilac stem that’s on the ground.
Yeosang feels ready to collapse. There’s a persistent ringing in his ears and his hands just won’t stop trembling. The water is not getting rid of the taste of blood in his mouth and his throat feels like it was entirely made out of sandpaper. But he sits and he waits. He waits for Wooyoung. At what he will say. At what he will ask.
But Wooyoung doesn’t ask who the flowers are for. He doesn’t need to.
He remembers.
At first, Yeosang didn't think that Wooyoung would. Why would Wooyoung remember an obscure conversation they had years ago? But when Wooyoung doesn’t ask and just stares at the stem silently, his eyes trailing the bright purple heart-shaped petals of the flowers, Yeosang’s heart drops to his feet.
Before Yeosang could even make a sound, Wooyoung suddenly moves his hand outward as he closes the space between them. His arm wraps around Yeosang’s body warmly and Yeosang’s head falls naturally in the crook of Wooyoung’s shoulder as if it has always belonged there.
“Oh Yeosang,” Wooyoung breathes.
And at that moment it becomes very clear to Yeosang.
Wooyoung knows. Wooyoung knows. Wooyoung knows.
He expects his whole world to tilt at its axis, for it all to come crumbling down at the realization. But the world doesn’t end. Wooyoung is still there, embracing him, holding Yeosang as if he’s something precious as if he is worth holding onto so tightly.
Yeosang buries his head into Wooyoung’s shoulder and breathes in his scent - it’s the perfume that Yeosang had bought him years ago for his birthday. Though Wooyoung had always been particular about scents he had treasured that perfume and used it sparingly - only for special occasions.
Wooyoug is so soft and warm. Yeosang really thinks he could fall asleep right then and there despite what’s going on. He’s tired, so incredibly tired and Wooyoung feels safe.
Just as Yeosang is about to shut his eyes, a soft whimper breaks him out of it. For a startling second Yeosang thinks that Wooyoung might be crying but before he can lean back and check for himself Wooyoung speaks.
“Do the surgery,” Wooyoung whispers in his arms.
Yeosang shuts his eyes close trying to smother the sting. It’s not a direct rejection, it doesn’t have to be. He knows Wooyoung enough to listen to what’s not being said. Just like he knows Wooyoung enough to know that Wooyoung will never love him in the way Yeosang craves. The rejection isn't unexpected but it still stabs him painfully.
But Wooyoung is still here. He’s still holding Yeosang firmly as if he never wants to let go.
Swallowing back a sob Yeosang shakes his head, “I don’t want to forget you,” Yeosang whines like a child, raw and open with his heart in Wooyoung’s hands.
Wooyoung leans back slightly and grabs Yeosang’s face warmly with the palms of his hands.
“Yeosang come on, look at me,” Wooyoung orders softly, and though Yeosang isn't one to listen to Wooyoung he does this time.
With tears clinging to his eyelashes, Yeosang opens his eyes. Wooyoung is only inches away from him, his eyes staring straight into Yeosang’s. His gaze is wide and earnest as he looks at Yeosang like he could see through his soul. Though at the moment Yeosang supposes Wooyoung can see it all, he’s baring what he had held within him for so long after all.
“Yeosang,” Wooyoung whispers, and it's amazing that no matter how many times Wooyoung had uttered Yeosang’s name, through so many emotions whether it be in happiness, sadness or even frustration, Yeosang’s name still sounds sweet coming out of Wooyoung’s mouth.
“I’ll still be here,” Wooyoung promises, “I won’t let you forget me,” he says strongly, “I’ll remind you again and again what you are to me Yeosang. You mean everything to me.” And Wooyoung looks at Yeosang like he’s begging him to believe that, that even though Wooyoung himself cannot make the flowers growing in him disappear, he will still be there to hold Yeosang’s hand and walk with him till the end of the line.
And Yeosang knows Wooyoung isn’t lying. He’s been with Wooyoung long enough to know that even in friendships Wooyoung gives his heart out as a whole.
“I know you will,” Yeosang whispers, because he cannot have Wooyoung think that he doubts their friendship for a second, “I just..” and words start to fail him again but Wooyoung waits patiently. His gaze is warm and open, like no matter what Yeosang says he won’t turn away.
Yeosang trusts Wooyoung, and if Wooyoung hadn’t turned away after all this he wouldn’t run away if he were to bare his soul a little more.
“What if I fall in love with you all over again?” Yeosang asks while trembling, unable to keep the fear from the prospect out of his voice. He can not imagine having to go through all of this over again. This was enough torment for a lifetime.
Wooyoung mouth tilts into a mock of a smile, empty and plastic “You won’t. I’m not that great.”
You are though.
Yeosang sighs, a part of him wants to ask Wooyoung to promise not to let him fall in love again. But it’s not like it was Wooyoung’s fault the first time.
He doesn’t think Wooyoung knows how fatal he is - how a smile from him can brighten someone’s day or how a hug from him feels like all of life’s problems are solved. He doesn’t think Wooyoung knows how kissable his lips are, or how the ripple of his muscles as he dances is the most attractive thing Yeosang has ever seen. He doesn’t think Wooyoung knows how one might yearn for a life together with him.
So Yeosang only hopes that the fates are not as cruel to him the next time and lets him not know any of those things either.
“I’m sorry I complicated things,” he says softly because it has to be said even though it is an understatement of sorts considering everything.
Wooyoung takes a deep breath and for a second Yeosang is afraid Wooyoung would say something like, “I’m sorry I don’t love you back in the way you want.” Yeosang can not even imagine what those words would do to him.
But instead Wooyoung says, in a steady unrelenting voice, “You will always be my best friend.”
Yeosang wants to engrave that into his memory though he knows he will soon forget it. That he will soon forget it all.
Then Wooyoung leans over and kisses the side of Yeosang’s temple, right where Yeosang’s pink birthmark resides. A stamp of his affection. The seal of his promise.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Yeosang only thinks it. He doesn’t say it. The flowers in his throat don't let him.
.
.
.
Yeosang wakes up in a hospital bed not knowing how he got there.
In the span of the next couple of hours, he’s told that he has gotten selective amnesia though the reasoning behind is a bit fuzzy. His doctor tells him he had hit his head at home but then his manager tells him he had gotten into a minor car accident. He hadn’t clarified it though, he figured that both must have happened and led him to getting his head screwed up.
Most of his hours at the start are spent combing through his memories with the doctor, trying to figure out what he doesn't remember.
He remembers his name is Kang Yeosang.
He’s 24 years old and he’s an idol.
He’s in a boy group named Ateez.
Ateez has 7 members.
And that’s where he’s wrong. Ateez has 8 members.
When the doctor shows him the photograph of all of them together from a long time ago, Yeosang spots the one missing from his memory easily. It’s a boy with a toothy grin and straight-cut bangs. His head immediately aches at the sight of the other but Yeosang bites his pain away, ignoring it so he can stare at the boy for a bit longer.
“His name is Wooyoung,” the doctor tells him.
He was with you at your house when you hit your head that’s probably why the association caused your memory loss , the doctor says. He was with you in the car at the time of the accident that’s probably why you forgot him , the manager says. Yeosang figures Wooyoung must be an unlucky fellow to be present in both of his head trauma moments.
Before he gets discharged Yeosang tries to read up on Wooyoung as much as he can. He’s surprised to find that Wooyoung and he had actually known each other the longest. When he gets his phone back he scours through and reads his text conversations with Wooyoung and is startled by how close they sounded to be. He’s disgruntled that he had lost memories of someone that obviously was precious to him, but the doctor had told him the memories might come back to him. The doctor didn’t sound too convincing but Yeosang still holds onto that hope.
Due to Yeosang’s insistence, the manager drives Yeosang to his dorms instead of his parents' house where he was supposed to go to rest. When he enters the dorms he is immediately met with a flurry of hugs and screams. But amongst the chaos, one person holds back. Maintaining his distance from Yeosang.
The pictures online don't really do Wooyoung much justice. In real life, his skin has a slight glow, and his features are much more defined. His hair is a beautiful shade of purple and though he’s wearing sweats his body hugs it like it’s something posh and expensive. Wooyoung’s eyes which seemed cold and sharp in a lot of the pictures are actually full of warmth, and though he isn’t smiling fully at Yeosang (his lips only slightly upturned), the lift of lips is affectionate.
“Hey,” Wooyoung says, and Yeosang notes a slight tremble in his voice, “I’m Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung. Wooyoung. Wooyoung.
His heart beats quickly at the sound of the name coming from Wooyoung’s own mouth. An echo of a memory that he had lost.
“Wooyoung,” Yeosang greets back as steadily as he could. The name tastes sweet as it falls out of his mouth.