Chapter Text
Dan Heng wished he didn’t look up when the bell rang.
The clear chime of the door announced a new customer’s arrival, and at least a few hours had passed since the start of Dan Heng’s shift. Living up to its name, Sunshine Florists was a brightly lit flower shop not too far down the main road of one of the busiest cities. The wide expanse of the shop let the unfiltered sunlight run freely through its windows. The outside air invaded the shop when the door opened, which was previously filled with the immense scent of roses. When the trees behind the doors stirred with the summer wind, this fragrance was washed away with lilac, creating nature’s perfume and rousing the shop into awakening.
Dan Heng had the feeling that this would be the most peaceful scenery he would ever get.
Despite being situated in the busier area of town, it had been quiet today, with not many customers flowing in and out. It was rare, but nice, it was how Dan Heng liked it. This flower shop was family property. After high school, an offhanded mention from a relative brought Dan Heng here. Maybe the shop was like a disfigured heirloom of some sort, he had thought. That aside, he liked the shop’s environment, it was calm, away from the chaos of university life and other much bigger obligations.
A customer had already walked in, stride casual and unbothered. Dan Heng realised that he had zoned out for too long as he already made it to the front of the counter. The sun blinded him as it spilled through the door, Dan Heng blinked to adjust and the flash disappeared. A pair of golden eyes met his own.
The stranger’s scarlet lips formed a perfect curve as he smiled politely upon entering. His gleaming eyes reflected the sun behind him, and Dan Heng wished that there was something brighter so he could dull the intense blaze presented to him. Immediately, the aura of this man screamed brightness, pure light, the type able to make other people want to succumb to him completely, push their trust into him and let him take everything from them. Not for Dan Heng, however, he wanted to consume this brightness. Selfishly, he wanted to make this sun his.
Maybe the man was too bright, too compelling for Dan Heng because his eyes were glued to him. He had to briefly close them to tear himself away. Moments later, something heavy settled in his stomach.
Dan Heng’s fingers twitched by his side. He examined this person carefully, the distance between them was fair enough so that he could shamelessly stare. Wind gushed out when the door snapped shut, and the stranger took his hands out of his pockets. For a split second, he caught sight of the black ink which stained them, his slightly chipped nails and the calloused fingers. His hair was fluffy, framing his face when the remaining breeze weaved through his bangs. Then it was those eyes, oh his eyes. They sparkled like rays of sunlight dancing on water, reminiscent of goldfish swirling inside a luminous pond.
With an easy smile, the customer approached the counter, his face highlighted by the soft glow of the shop's ambient lighting.
“Hi, what can I get for you?” Dan Heng asked with his eyes turning back down to the counter.
The man blinked, then his brows raised a bit in thought. “Hmm, I’m going on a first date, so are there any ideas for what I should get?”
At that, Dan Heng’s eyes glanced up to meet the other’s. “Sure, do you want a pre-made arrangement or a custom-made one? You’ll have to order beforehand for something custom-made.”
Please say custom-made. A slightly deranged voice in Dan Heng’s head whispered but he shook it away.
“Uh…” The man frowned slightly. “I don’t have time, so can I just get something already prepared?”
“No problem.” Dan Heng coughed. Trying to stay professional, he grabbed a clipboard and handed it to him.
“Fill this out. For your preferences.”
“Thanks,” he beamed.
Dan Heng watched as the man wrote on the form, narrowing his eyes to read the writing. He vaguely made out the stranger’s name. Caelus. He silently mouthed. The word rolled smoothly down his tongue, it was nice.
He didn’t even realise that he was staring before Caelus cleared his throat and pushed the paper forward with a shy smile. “Here.”
“Ah,” Looking down again, Dan Heng studied the form for a bit longer than necessary. Prefers red and white, huh. He could work with that. His eyes quickly scanned the other options before setting it down with a fast exhale.
He put on his best neutral expression and made eye contact with Caelus again. “Alright, come with me, I’ll walk you through it.”
With small strides, Dan Heng led Caelus through the shelves and scanned through them. Passing a few sections, he slowed down at the section where an assortment of red, pink and white filled his vision. The scent of roses, camellias and lilies enveloped them both and Dan Heng stopped in his tracks to take a deep inhale. Something had been bothering him today, but the scent of flowers lifted that irritating itch in his chest. He felt Caelus bump into him at the back, and a quick exhale ran down his neck.
Caelus muttered an apology, but Dan Heng kept his gaze fixed on the arrangements. Eyes unblinking, he let them wander over each one, finger tapping idly at his thigh. Deliberately or not, he could sense Caelus closing the proximity between them and leaning over to examine the flowers.
Seconds turned into minutes. The leisurely hum of the air conditioners was exceptionally loud and the sound of the clock ticking at the back ran through the air. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Caelus shifting his weight from one foot to the other, eyes now watching Dan Heng instead of focusing on the arrangements.
After a while of them just silently standing like this, Dan Heng finally reached over and picked up a bouquet. It was a simple one, simple but delicate. He remembered making every one of his arrangements, hand-picking each flower and clipping each stem. The white intertwined with the red in a blend of petals and viridescence. The wrapping was tied neatly together with a silky white ribbon. It was one of his favourites.
“This one?”
It wasn’t meant to be a question, more of a statement. They both reached over at the same time, fingers brushing against each other swiftly. Dan Heng’s heart rose to his throat. He turned to look at Caelus and caught something flashing behind his eyes. His golden irises reminded him of daffodils, radiating an intense hue that seemed to hold a piece of the sun's brilliance. Dan Heng held his breath.
“Perfect,” and that blinding smile was back. Dan Heng nodded in response and led his way back to the front. After setting the bouquet down at the counter, he turned on his monitor and pulled out the form from the clipboard.
“Your total will be 10 strales.”
Caelus leaned forward and reached into his pockets. Fumbling, he quickly pulled out his wallet and dropped a few strales onto the counter. Dan Heng glanced at them as the clicks of the keyboard slowed. He let out a puff of air, and then with a final click, the stone in his stomach dissipated.
“Alright,” he looked up. Caelus was putting his wallet away, but the pile of coins seemed more than required. He counted them, then raised his eyebrows. “That’s 15.”
Caelus shrugged in response. “That’ll be my tip.” Dan Heng looked down, feeling his ears start to burn. He reprimanded himself inwardly and just averted his eyes in time to miss Caelus winking at him. He would not be able to fathom his reaction if he had caught it.
“Handle them with care please,” Dan Heng managed to mutter. He seemed to be speaking more than usual today. “Have a nice first date.”
Caelus grinned, nodded and said thanks. As he was walking towards the door, it suddenly got a lot easier to breathe for Dan Heng. The air became less stifling, but he had no time to react. Caelus was already outside in seconds, the bell signalling his departure. Not even a goodbye. Realisation dawned him, emphasising the cold, hard truth that they might never meet again. Dan Heng was left alone in the shop with the lingering scent of roses and the distant sound of cicadas. A few stray breezes carried the outside air through the open windows, blowing against Dan Heng’s face. He felt the slight irritation of hair falling into his eyes, and something painful rose to his throat.
~
“Heyyy, Dan Heng, are you there?”
Dan Heng was zoning out when March 7th waved a hand in front of his face. He was looking at his phone before, but a few customers came in and he had to focus on them instead. Even when he was scrolling through his phone, it had been in intervals. He would set his phone down, let out a heavy exhale, close his eyes and rub his temples, stop, and go silent for a few minutes, then go back to scrolling. Now as another florist was escorting the customers through the arrangements, he had resorted to staring into blank space while forming a hard line with his mouth, eyes steely and lost in thought. It was just after lunch, so March had thought that he was tired from his shift, but at this rate, even this level of aloofness was strange for someone like Dan Heng.
“Hey, are you alright?” She asked. Her shift just started but he still had a few more hours to go, she couldn’t have him falling asleep, or worse, fainting on her.
Dan Heng blinked once, then twice, then rapidly as if finally gaining consciousness. He was quiet for a second, then met March’s eyes. Clearing his throat, he muttered a barely audible ‘yeah’ before turning back to the clipboard he was writing on before his break.
March raised a bewildered eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at the same form for half an hour now, is there something wrong?”
It was weird because it was normally Dan Heng who looked after March 7th. Like when she concentrated too hard on putting the flowers to their right position that she stabbed herself with the scissors; or getting distracted by watching cat videos when she was supposed to be working.
This time, Dan Heng didn’t respond. His gaze was still glued to the clipboard as he typed something onto his monitor. March 7th sighed. “Is it about that customer who came in yesterday?”
She didn’t know what happened, but after coming back from her break she had bumped into a silver-haired man walking down the street while holding a bouquet, so she could only assume that it was him. After returning to the shop, she caught sight of a mildly distraught Dan Heng who was scribbling in his notebook with a tinge of pink in his ears.
She saw Dan Heng tense, his eyebrows twisting into a furrow. The line that was his mouth only hardened further as he fixed March 7th with a stern look.
“It’s not a big deal,” he sighed and fiddled with the edge of the paper. “And it’s none of your business.”
Huh, he must be out of it today . March thought, but she was nothing if not relentless and curious, so she wanted to continue prying. It was hard for Dan Heng to step out of his shell, where he would get so absorbed in his thoughts that it would be near impossible for him to speak. But March 7th was always determined to break the cycle, to make Dan Heng spill his feelings, whether he liked it or not. Healthy emotional management, she had called it.
She raised an unimpressed eyebrow and stared back at him. “So, what’s his name?” Seeing that Dan Heng was reluctant to respond, she leaned over, faster than he could react, to snatch the piece of paper.
“Caelus?” The corners of her mouth twitched. “That name sounds familiar…”
Dan Heng flinched but didn’t reach for the paper. Seeing that his resistance had ceased, March smirked victoriously and put the form down as she leaned against the counter.
“What is it?” She asked. “You don’t seem like the type to have a crush.”
Something dark passed over Dan Heng’s expressions but March 7th ignored it. She knew her limits, like when to stop prodding to prevent Dan Heng from snapping, but now, she still had plenty of room left for her shenanigans. “What? Am I wrong?”
Dan Heng sighed and rubbed his temples. His face was turning pale by now, and if March was more perceptive, she might’ve even worried if he had caught a cold. “What if I do? Are you going to announce that to the whole world?”
As Dan Heng had evidently accepted defeat, March thought nothing of teasing him anymore and straightened herself. “What are you gonna do about it?” She paused to consider her words, then rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, nothing?”
Dan Heng stilled and said nothing for a while. The distant chatter of the customers in the background was drowned by the droning sound of the air conditioners and Dan Heng’s breathing suddenly turned heavy.
Dan Heng cleared his throat. March could see that he was trying to act nonchalant. He then adjusted himself to stand up before opening the door to the back and nodded his head in the vague direction of the storage room.
“Did you check the delivery we got yesterday? I think some of the potted plants need watering.”
March exhaled in part frustration and part helplessness. That would be the most that she could ever get out of Dan Heng, that’s for sure.
“Yeah, yeah,” She dragged her feet across the floor while walking into the back, shutting the door with a semi-aggressive click. A muffled ‘typical’ was heard before her footsteps faded into the distance. Dan Heng didn’t bother to go after her.
He turned around, then his body suddenly became too heavy for his legs to handle. Reaching for the nearest source of water, he gulped it down without hesitation. Something had been pricking his throat the entire day, he felt like throwing up, but nothing was coming out. He tried to focus on entering delivery information for the next restock, but after all, the soreness in his throat was getting too unbearable to ignore.
Dan Heng exhaled shakily and threw his head back on his chair, throat bobbing. This was going to be a long day.
~
Something felt terribly off today.
A week passed, and nothing happened. Dan Heng had almost thought that he would never see the silver-haired man again. The burning sensation in his throat stopped for a while, but recently, it came back. Dan Heng noticed it every time a customer asked for an arrangement involving roses. He was back at the front counter, and it was a Tuesday afternoon. On the quieter days, he would mess around with the scraps left over from cutting the flowers and make random arrangements or braids out of them to kill time.
It had been a long day. Dan Heng’s fingers were scraped from cutting stems and wielding scissors all day, but the abundance of leaves and petals on the table was too much to overlook. Now the little box of scraps sat on his lap, the one with broken stems, blossoms too big or too small and discoloured petals. He grabbed one of the stems and intertwined them with the leaves, leaving the petals for adornment then positioned them together. He weaved the leaves and layers against one another, fingers dancing, a dance reserved for the flowers and flowers alone.
Soon after, an intricately braided flower crown was completed. White, mainly comprised of other pink petals decorated the crown. March 7th would’ve loved one of these, Dan Heng had thought. Maybe he could keep making them and they would make it on the shelves one day.
He was so absorbed in fixing a misplaced leaf on the crown that he nearly jumped out of his seat when someone coughed behind the counter.
“Oh-” he turned around and stuttered eloquently. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest when he saw who the person was. It was like stomach reflux, his insides churning and turning upside down upon seeing the other man. God, how he loathed this feeling.
“Hello.” He bit his tongue. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
Caelus only smiled as his gaze softened. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What can I get for you today?”
Caelus raised his eyebrows and with an almost proud expression, held out a bouquet. “Here,” he dropped a few coins onto the counter.
They were red and white carnations, one of Dan Heng’s favourites. His heart seized upon seeing the arrangements, remembering the night he spent making them, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at seeing them go.
“No problem,” Dan Heng took the money and caught sight of the flower crown. “Wait,” he found himself speaking out. “I just made these. You can have them if you want, it’ll make up for the 5 strales last time.”
Caelus said nothing and stared at him for a while, making Dan Heng awfully self-conscious. He looked like he wanted to reject the offer, lips quivering a little before he opened his mouth to speak.
“I- I would love to.”
Dan Heng let out an exhale. He had hoped that this feeling would go away when this ordeal of an interaction ended. He didn’t know where it came from or why his stomach twisted whenever he saw Caelus, but he did know to resist it. He had to.
But everything shattered, every idea that Dan Heng had of him acting normal around him broke to complete pieces when Caelus’s eyes met his as they glimmered under the lights. They held a million tiny pieces of glass in his pupils, like a window shattered and strewn in space, reflecting the glorious scene of the galaxy presented in front of them. How can someone be this bright?
Aeons, the uncomfortable sensation only intensified. An undying fire that cannot be put out unless Dan Heng crushed his windpipes and stabbed his stomach. He really couldn’t let go of the itching feeling in his chest, either. Dan Heng hated how the very presence of Caelus tugged at the string keeping him together and pulled him forward, threatening to throw himself into the abyss. It was a burden that laid on his torso and strangled him, crushing his ribcage, forcing him to bleed. But he could only take it, consume it, let himself be devoured by it. It was the only thing he knew how to do.
He tried to soften up the tenseness in his face by lifting the corners of his mouth, but it just felt like a bitter, half-forced smile. “No problem, I’ll wrap it up for you too.”
As his nimble fingers moved across the tissue and wrapping papers, something suddenly hit him, unexpectedly and out of nowhere. Caelus had already been on his first date, and he came back to get a similar bouquet. There was nothing else he had asked for.
Dan Heng’s lungs started to bleed, quite literally. He could feel it under his ribs. The coughing fits the other days were warnings. The dots were connecting themselves and Dan Heng hated how they fitted together so perfectly. The tingle in his chest turned suffocating. It wasn’t gentle, it was torturous, a prickle that could not be ignored. Cotton seemed to stuff his lungs and they sucked up all the blood. He felt like throwing up.
He looked up at Caelus again, noticing how there was a tint of red on his lips that matched his ears. His gaze was now flitting around the store, glancing mindlessly at the decorations and shelves. When he raised his hand to his pocket for his wallet, Dan Heng saw the calluses on his fingertips, this time stained with tints of white and pink ink.
Steering himself, he clutched his fingers into the pile of unused flower vines and petals. Using his other hand, Dan Heng handed the bouquet and crown to Caelus, who responded with a beaming grin. Stop doing that . He thought.
The air turned still for a few seconds when their fingers briefly brushed over one another. Dan Heng was afraid to speak, as the lump in his throat would spew out too quickly, too soon. So, he met the pair of golden eyes.
Dan Heng looked at Caelus, and Caelus looked back at Dan Heng. They both said nothing.
After a moment, Caelus turned around with his bouquet and walked away. His steps echoed through the empty store.
Dan Heng inhaled sharply, and for a while, he stood there. The cotton stuffing his chest grew more substantial. He tried to clear them out with his hands, wandering through the mass of wool encasing his body. To no avail, his hands got stuck when he tried to reach into the pile and find his heart. The cotton enveloped him so he couldn’t breathe, it masked his eyes and blinded him, it muffled his hearing and only wisps of sounds passed through. The blood was absorbed. It seeped, then dripped to the floor. He coughed, barely holding in a wheeze.
Petals slipped past his fingertips.
~
Most weeks for Dan Heng started the same. He would wake up to silence, with the occasional filtered sunlight streaks pouring through the bedroom blinds. He brushed his teeth, maybe took a shower, and then sat down in front of his desk. Piles of flowers and scattered petals would be waiting for him. All he had to do was to pluck and arrange them.
He had this routine and preferred to stick to it. Dan Heng never had morning classes and he worked at night. There were bags under his eyes, fingers sore from being poked by flowers. He didn’t mind. He really didn’t.
As silence would often engulf the room when he was working, his mind would be led astray. Most often, he tried remembering moments from childhood as a way to divert his thoughts. The happy, unworried child now only lived in photographs. The edges of them were fraying, turning yellow as they slowly decayed along with his memories.
Things had changed, for the better or worse, he didn’t know. One night, he woke up to a puddle of red near his pillow, so he learned to put a towel next to the blankets. Sometimes he coughed up petals and occasionally flowers. Nightmares plagued his sleep more than before, with his back constantly soaked with sweat as he sat in his bed, nerves lit on fire and shaking in the middle of the night.
All he had to do was endure, it was all he could do.
He knew what he had, anyone in his position would. He knew what the way he looked at Caelus meant, he knew what the flowers meant, what the coughing and gagging and nightmares meant. The ability to feel like this was taxing. Maybe Dan Heng could find peace in running away, and maybe it would be better if Dan Heng just simply forgot how to.
March 7th came over less. The study sessions that they shared became scarce. It was because she was busier nowadays, Dan Heng had reassured himself. March would talk to him if she wanted to, and she would talk to him. Someday.
Most often Dan Heng found himself laying in bed at some hour of the night and staring at his ceiling, thinking about golden eyes and soft smiles as he wheezed with every breath he took. It was hard to take his mind off of him, but when he did, he would think about flowers. Flowers, and maybe something else.
A man goes home every day and faces his thoughts. He looks up to the sky, the walls of his room and wishes to be as blank as they are. He examines the faces of his thoughts, judges them, and judges himself for thinking these thoughts. He is incomplete, and he wishes to feel whole.
As he dozed off, he would remember high school, his favourite subjects, who he was friends with and who they became. He had hobbies, like reading and making dried flowers. He wanted to become a museum curator or an archivist.
Now he glared at the ceiling of his room with half-lidded eyes. With delayed clarity, he realised that the certificates and credits proving his passion were collecting dust in the wardrobe. He tried to find them while cleaning before, but almost like his memories, they were wiped from existence. Must still be in his childhood home.
He had lead in his legs every day. His joints were gears without oil, squeaking when he moved. He didn’t live near the city, so he took an hour to get to the shop and back. But he loved flowers, loved being a florist. He was vomiting them up every day, his body was rejecting them for every second that he breathed, it hurt, it hurt like hell. His toes and fingers curled whenever a tremble ran through his body, and the cause of his problems would become a hazy mist amid his mind until the only things he remembered were red-tinted lips and ink-stained fingers.
For a split second, he let his mind wander to the possibility of a future without Caelus. The mere thought sent shivers down his spine, leaving an emptiness he couldn't fathom.
Why is it so easy to love someone but so hard to be loved?
A defying hand pried that thought away. Something rebelled against the notion of letting go. He clung to the fragments of hope, the only hope that he had. He stayed there in the darkness, feeling the flowers take root deep inside his chest. They would soon devour him.
He would dream, and when he dreamt, he dreamt of conversing with a faceless figure cloaked in shadows.
Why are you scared?
“I fear nothing.”
What are you scared of?
“Why do you care?”
Who are you scared of?
“...”
Dan Heng sat on a chair opposite this figure. He could taste metal on his tongue. He felt the ground rock, then something opened up underneath him and gaped its ugly teeth at him. Its mouth was dripping saliva, hunger overtook its eyes, mouth and face. He had to face this provocation. He craved for it to swallow him.
Who are you scared of?
The soul was persistent.
"I am afraid that I would love him forever and we would never be in the same room again."
The air was still for a second, then the gap closed itself as his chair sank into the ground. The shadowed figure dispersed as soon as he uttered the words, it would happen every night, and Dan Heng would say the same phrases. It wasn’t integrity or courage that brought him to admit it. They were facts, something that came out from the bottom of his heart. It was systematic, unavoidable.
Sometimes it turned into a narration, a voice inside the entity that spoke to him on occasion. Dan Heng felt feverish and paranoid, he must’ve thrashed in his sleep every time it happened.
He wishes for a chance to not worry about love, how he’s going to live without love, how others are going to love him, or how he is going to love them back.
He wishes that loving was easy, like how the sun will continue to stream steadily behind his curtains, how the flowers continue to bloom and flourish. It exists in every moment, in every minute detail that he noticed, every action that he took. The way that his heart beats should be natural, and his existence as a loving being should be natural.
There is no reason to worry about love. But the man still sits in his cold and dark room, staring out into the night sky, pondering about being loved.
Love will eventually find him.
He would rouse awake, gaze unwavering as he fixated on one spot of the roof. Dan Heng sighed, then, with haunting sobriety, squeezed his eyes shut.
He doesn’t want to die.
~
Dan Heng would describe Caelus as a tempest.
Or more accurately, the stirring within him every time he was reminded of him. The mess of grey hair was an impending storm, swirling and hiding the glowing sun underneath. The ravaging winds that seemed to tear and destroy never appeared to cease their chaos. Dan Heng mused as he shuffled his hands through the scrap box, searching for intact flowers. It was half an hour before closing time, and the store was basically emptied out. Most of the arrangements and bouquets had been gone. Dan Heng lowered his eyes. His line of sight narrowed in, ignoring all disruptions by creating a tunnel vision with the discoloured roses that sat on his lap. He was more than ready to leave.
It had been three weeks. Dan Heng was close to losing hope. Red stained his fingernails when he pricked at them. The nervous antics had somehow come back to him in the span of one night, and a certain silver-haired boy had also made home inside Dan Heng’s mind. A tempest. Dan Heng found himself circling back. He was the chaos that existed outside of his orbit. Nothing else could’ve penetrated Dan Heng’s exterior, no one could’ve stepped inside without being swept off their feet. But before the storm could grow any stronger, his rationality stepped in and crushed the brakes, screeching his thoughts to a halt. He preferred to not continue any further.
Dan Heng wanted to tame the tempest, but he knew it was impossible; the clouds would just bleed with the fog to make another hurricane overtake the storm, so he learned to be a bit more tolerant, a bit more accepting, and a bit more human.
As he glared down at his pile of scattered white petals, something twisted painfully within his chest.
Dan Heng considered going into the back. There were going to be little to no customers, so he could retire to the storage room without worry. He was moments before getting up when he caught movement in his peripheral vision.
It was raining outside, not heavy, but still raining, and a lone silhouette hovered in front of the door. From this distance, it was hard to tell who it was, the glass was glazed over with fog while the raindrops pelted against the windows. The floor was seconds from him pulling him down when he stood up. The world spun. If he was a bit more tired, he would’ve thought an earthquake was splitting the ground right open and devouring him whole.
The rain called out Dan Heng’s name, flood following his steps when he opened the door.
It wasn’t cold outside, the summer rain never froze the air. Dampness, moisture and humidity overwhelmed the store. It was one case of being dry inside the shop, and another case of being soaked with rainwater. Dan Heng barely registered the man standing before him, the cogs in his brain turning. A sharp pain pierced his temple. Silver hair was almost black when wet, and they must have spent more than a few minutes outside. A shadow cast the other person’s face over as their expression was impossible to distinguish. They didn’t shiver, but their shirt stuck to their back.
Dan Heng froze. He must have been staring for way too long because the person finally looked up from under their bangs. Through their eyelashes revealed a pair of sparkling gold eyes.
Out of all places, it just had to be in the rain that they met again. Aeons, Caelus’s eyes were so bright. Upon eye contact, he noticed pink dusting over his cheeks and ears. Caelus stepped in, feet flopping heavily against the floor. Dan Heng opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“Hey, uhm,” Caelus spoke up first. “Sorry, this is abrupt but uh…”
His voice broke off at the end, and Dan Heng looked at him expectantly. They stood together at the door. Water dripped from Caelus’s hair onto the carpet. Raindrops traced delicate patterns on the shop's windows, and the resounding wind outside seemed to respond to the rhythmic dance of the drops.
With an exasperated sigh, Caelus weaved his fingers through his hair. “I was walking home but it suddenly started raining, so I was wondering if I could stay here…” Caelus tried to meet Dan Heng’s eyes, but the shake in his voice betrayed his timidness. “Of course, it’s absolutely fine if I can’t!”
He turned silent again. As if supporting his claim, the raindrops showered the windows even more aggressively. The previously clear sky was now pouring buckets. Each droplet seemed to carry more weight, splashing against surfaces with increased intensity.
Nature always gave way to storm, dulled by its strength. The sky in Dan Heng’s mind, once a canvas of serene blues, started to darken, with clouds gathering and merging like ink spilling into water, gradually shrouding the sun's gentle radiance. Even the weather alleviated its power for him. Although he himself was not in the rain, Dan Heng felt the presence of it before him. Nature was ever-changing, and she gave birth to life, to plants, to flowers, and to this embodiment of destruction. And if nature was meant to destroy him like this, Dan Heng was more than willing to give himself away.
“Sure, no problem.” Words escaped from Dan Heng’s mouth quicker than he could stop them.
Caelus’s lips curled to form a genuine smile. “Thank you.” There was a shimmering mist in his hair and a few droplets on his shoulders. The grey sparkled under the lights.
Stardust.
Dan Heng cleared his throat and turned around. The abyss beneath his feet closed up as he felt his senses come back a little. “Take a seat,” he gestured to the chair beside the counter.
Some shuffling was heard and with a thump, Caelus plopped down onto the seat. “Ah, sorry, I’m getting everything wet.” he chuckled tensely. Dan Heng’s hands wandered mindlessly on the table until he realised that Caelus needed a towel. Hastily, he reached into the cupboards to grab one. He waved his head in dismissal when Caelus offered to dry himself up, instead opting to run his hands leisurely through the other man’s hair as he towelled him dry.
He had to compose himself when laughter bubbled up to his throat upon seeing Caelus shaking his head like a wet dog. He would look good with the white flower crowns he just made, Dan Heng pondered.
He held onto that thought. Caelus’s hair was beyond dry at this point, but Dan Heng still massaged his skull absent-mindedly as he hummed. The man let out a sigh and Dan Heng’s heart jumped in his chest. “I made more of the flower crowns.” Again, his mouth ran faster than his brain.
They were well-decorated this time. The abundance of rose leftovers was more than enough for him to craft crowns on the more intricate and delicate spectrum. To him, white roses exuded ethereal beauty. Nestled in a delicate tapestry of ivory petals, they unfurled them like promises of devotion, while baby's breath blooms added highlights. Ivy and eucalyptus weaved a lush framework, providing contrast. Braiding the crowns was akin to creating art.
“They’re pretty.” Caelus turned his head to look at Dan Heng. He was leaning down, and their breaths mingled. Close, too close. “You smell really nice, is it from the roses?” He whispered.
Who even says things like that? Dan Heng whipped around, trying to hide his reaction. “Uh, yeah.” Words refused to leave him so he gestured at the box of flowers. Caelus nodded in acknowledgement.
Dan Heng pulled away before walking to the counter. If he tried hard enough, he could will the blush threatening to creep up away. He threaded his hands in the pile of flower crowns and picked up his favourite. “You can try it on.” He paused. “If you want.”
Caelus nodded with a smile, and Dan Heng set it gently onto his head. “They’re beautiful,” Caelus suddenly whispered. “All the arrangements in this shop are too.”
Retracting his hand, Dan Heng blinked. “I don’t think they’re anything special.”
Pulling back, he examined Caelus carefully. He emanated enchantment, hair shimmering like moonlit streams. The flower crown that graced his head was a graceful complement to his silver hair. Almost soft like wool, they fit perfectly and were clad in hues of the night sky.
Instantly, he was hit with a strange sense of bitterness. If this was some sentimental romance movie, he would be the girl who had fallen head-over-heels for some guy. Except I’m not that girl who writes love letters to her crush and confesses her love under the moonlight. Dan Heng thought. And I never will be his.
Probably not even his type.
The movie would end sweetly where the main couple end up together, holding hands while they exchanged promises for each other. Dan Heng’s stomach seized and he had to physically place a hand on his throat to prevent himself from doubling over. Luckily, Caelus didn’t see him.
“But that’s the thing, right? The way they are set up, it's like you see a beauty in them that others don't." Caelus voiced softly.
Dan Heng blinked again. “It’s just the details, nothing more.”
Caelus turned around and didn’t speak for a while. Dan Heng was close to assuming that he had upset him when he perked up again. “What a coincidence that we keep meeting each other again, huh.”
“You keep coming back here, again and again.” Dan Heng felt a bit braver now that the air between them had warmed up considerably.
Caelus’s face flushed as he lowered his gaze to the ground. “No, I don’t think I am doing it on purpose. But I did keep coming back to you,”
Dan Heng’s words got stuck in his throat. He huffed, but it came out nervous.
“I’m flattered.”
Caelus shrugged. “Maybe it’s something about this shop,” he continued as he scratched the back of his head. “But it’s a shame, really.”
“Why?”
His gaze flickered. “I’m moving next week.”
Oh.
It took him a minute to register his words, but a dull knife still stabbed mercilessly against his heart. Dan Heng picked at his nails, dropping his head. He didn’t see a point in asking why for the second time.
“Where to?”
“Yaoqing, it’s closer to the campus I go to.”
Dan Heng nodded. He had to pull the knife out and watch himself bleed. Something tickled his diaphragms and windpipes, he pushed them down.
Feeling a sudden surge of courage, Dan Heng took his phone out of his pocket. “Can I take a photo of you?” Upon the quizzical expression on Caelus’s face, he added. “It’s for reference.”
It was a bold-faced lie, but he had to do it.
“Sure.”
Dan Heng picked up his phone and adjusted the angle, fiddling with the focus until Caelus’s upper body entered the picture. He looked at the camera before smiling, grey hair obediently pressing against his face with a few strands sticking out into the air. Caelus’s sparkling eyes reflected the light above. Dan Heng’s thumb hovered over the button.
Caelus’s eyes seemed to look past the camera and at Dan Heng instead, his smile unwavering. “Not done yet?”
Dan Heng snapped back to reality and pressed. “Done.”
Caelus relaxed his face and then glanced at the windows. “Oh, the rain stopped.”
Not even looking at the windows, Dan Heng’s heart sank. “It did.” He muttered.
“Guess I should get going then,” Caelus put his hands on his thighs and stood up. “Sorry if I’ve been a bother.”
“Not at all.” Dan Heng shook his head and rose from his chair. Following Caelus with his eyes, he escorted him to the front and opened the door for him. Within seconds, sunlight poured in through the gap, illuminating the entire room. What a glorious view this would’ve provided if it were not for the fading storm walking out into the overpowering light beside him.
Waving to say goodbye, Caelus flashed a blinding smile back as he strolled down the road. There were rows of vegetation, mainly consisted of bushes littering down the sidewalks. His hair bounced freely and sparkled under sunshine, his figure slowly retreating. Dan Heng’s fingers lingered on the door frame, and so did his lips as they moved to form syllables. Nothing came out, however. All he could do was watch as Caelus’s hair disappeared behind the patches of greenery.
Gone . Dan Heng thought. Never again.
~
“He just needs to stop coming.”
It was late at night. Dan Heng rolled over in his bed to face the speaker of his phone on his nightstand. March 7th, miraculously, was still up at this hour. After days of her complaining about the fact that they hadn’t shared shifts in weeks and how work had been boring without him over text messages, Dan Heng caved in. They had been talking for an hour at least but there was no sign of their conversation coming to an end. In a state of half exhaustion and pent-up frustration, Dan Heng finally addressed the elephant in the room; the curiosity that March had bugged him about for the past two weeks.
“What do you mean?” He could hear her smirk through the screen.
“You know what I’m talking about.” Dan Heng deadpanned.
A chuckle was heard. “What? Like his obvious attempts to flirt with you? Or him making an effort to come back to our shop?”
Dan Heng groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “No.” He paused. “He doesn’t actually like me.”
“...” Silence passed between them for a moment, Dan Heng almost thinking March hung up when she sighed. “Just how oblivious can you be, Dan Heng?”
And of course, she’s clueless.
Dan Heng tried to sit up on his bed, but as he lifted himself, he accidentally tipped backwards and his back hit the headboard. His movements nearly knocked the breath out of him. Sputtering, a few petals fell onto the sheets with droplets of red. Luckily, March 7th didn’t pick up on the commotion. Instead, she was already halfway through a speech on how Dan Heng could learn to be less emotionally dense. Feeling the need to intervene, he coughed loudly.
“He doesn’t like me. He never will.” He dropped his head. His fingers became restless, the degree of nervous antics had picked up over the past weeks. He started picking at his nails.
March was almost immediate in responding. “See, that’s the thing about you, Dan Heng.” She chided him. “How about we focus on the part where you can get him to like you back?”
Dan Heng shook his head, more to himself than as a reply. “It’s fine.” He pushed his cuticles back, movements turning almost aggressive.
He heard another sigh. Maybe this was stressing March out as much as it did to him.
“Whatever.” Dan Heng reached for his phone. “It’s getting late.” Tapping at his phone, pain spiked through his nails. His fingers had started bleeding.
March didn’t say anything until Dan Heng was seconds from hanging up. “Take care of yourself, Dan Heng.”
Something unexplainable swelled up to his chest, and it wasn’t stems or petals of flowers. “Okay.”
The line went dead. Staring at the blank background of his phone, something suddenly hit him. Dan Heng opened his photos before swiping to the photo he had taken a few days ago. Caelus looked almost boyish there, with the delicate flowers on his head. Ethereal, Dan Heng would call him. March 7th would probably laugh at his photography skills but it didn’t matter. A quick change in his wallpaper wouldn’t hurt. And if they were never going to meet again, he could let himself have this, for this once.
~
Oh, how Dan Heng was terribly wrong.
He didn’t even notice when the bell rang. It was busy hour, and they were short on staff. March 7th was already walking 2 customers through the aisle, one was checking out and two were behind them. Just as Dan Heng gave back the change. Lifting his head, he saw two newcomers stepping in. They were in obvious dire need of assistance. His manager just had to not be there.
“Just a moment.” He quickly tied the knot to the bouquet then speed walked to the front. Before he could actually see the man, his attention was caught by another person waving at him on the other side of the room. He recognised the voice before actually seeing the person. Dread filled his lungs and stomach quicker than he could react. Anytime but now. He begged internally. Please.
In just the span of a few days, the disease’s progression only worsened. He considered going to the doctors but knew it was pointless. He knew what he had. Now he couldn’t utter a complete sentence before doubling over while holding his throat, it was insanity and he didn’t know how he had held up in work until now. In this instance, the presence of a certain someone definitely did not help with his symptoms.
“Hey.” The cheery voice called out for him. Dan Heng felt like passing out. He was a step away from blatantly ignoring him when a hand reached for his shoulder to stop him. The touch was warm, the calluses familiar. Dan Heng turned around and saw the hints of black ink gracing his skin.
Caelus held out a bag. “Here, thanks for Tuesday. Take this as my token of appreciation, I’m leaving tomorrow but I wouldn’t have survived the rain if it wasn’t for you.” As soon as Caelus grinned, Dan Heng felt his feet get stuck to the floor. Speechless, he remained stunned until in his left, he caught a customer looking at him expectantly from the counter. He took the bag, vaguely registering Caelus’s comment about how busy it was here and how he had to leave. However, that split second of distraction was enough for Caelus to disappear behind the door before Dan Heng even managed to say thank you.
~
Dan Heng couldn’t breathe, he knew this was the end for him.
He had dreamt of death before, he was no stranger to it. The dream was different this time.
He is running through the meadows, the heat from the sun glaring down at him as children laugh and run behind him. He is smaller, much shorter. Similar physique to the rest. He doesn’t even realise when one of them jumps on his back and pushes him down to the dirt until a hand helps him up. He is covered in dirt but he is laughing, a whole body shake as he giggles with the other children. They pat him on the back as an encouragement then the game of tag resumes.
These weren’t dreams. They were memories.
The setting shifts and morphs into another one. He is in school, staring at the head of the boy sitting in front of him as words from the teacher fly past his ears. It was the same boy who pushed him over before. His focus is on how his blonde hair waves slightly when the wind catches them through the windows. His eyes glaze over with concentration, counting each strand in his mind. That’s when the teacher asks him a question and he completely ignores her.
He remembers the first flower arrangement he ever did.
He has no concepts of colour or aesthetics. As a teenage boy, he barely gets the opportunity to interact with flowers in the first place. His hands wander awkwardly through the pile of petals and stems. He was familiar with making dried flowers for bookmarks, but not this. The final arrangement turns out to be a mess of greens, red and yellow. The teacher doesn’t scold him, but he sees the disdain in her eyes.
He went through his first heartbreak in high school.
He doesn’t feel anything. He tries explaining it to his friends. Nothing comes out. His other friends described the sensation of falling in love as having a heavy feeling in your stomach and being constantly nervous around them. Dan Heng feels neither of them, but he is sure that he is in love.
It’s when his ‘lover’ starts dating another person that he understands.
“Do you still love him?” In a desperate attempt, his friend asks him.
“I do.” Dan Heng insists. “If not, why did I feel anything?”
“He’s not coming back,” another friend intervenes.
“But what if he does come back? Will you still love him?”
“I will. I was dumb, but he won’t do that again.”
His friends share a look he can’t identify. He is puzzled at this display of unusual behaviour. He doesn’t know how to question it. Mutual understanding seems to reach everyone but him. The room turns silent.
“Are you sure?” One of them asks tentatively.
“Yes.” Without hesitation.
None of them mentions the tears streaking down his face.
They had discussed the concept of Hanahaki Diseases.
“It hurts, right?”
Dan Heng isn’t afraid of pain. He feared it as a child, but now that he’s graduating, he is no longer the scared kid from years before. Grown-ups didn’t cry, nor did they succumb to simple pains such as a disease. He was bigger, taller and stronger. He can chase his dreams, become someone he wants to be, and love who he wants to love.
He keeps his past self in chains, buries him and hides deep within his mind. The child is dissected to its very bone, shoved in that tiny prison that he will never revisit. He wishes for a better future.
Dan Heng had given up.
In truth, the Hanahaki Disease does hurt, but it’s nothing he can’t endure. Sure, it makes a mess whenever he coughs, but it is manageable. He tells himself this every night. One day, his feelings will fade and he could go about his life normally again. He will survive this, he must survive this.
…
It must take some courage to sit under the willows with your hands intertwined with someone else’s, to feel the breath of earth underneath your skin as you inhale, down to the very rhythm. It must take some courage to braid the stems of flowers and adorn them with petals, except without the momentary clench in your lungs.
It must also take some courage to love.
Dan Heng felt that he didn’t need memories.
He could almost pinpoint the exact moment when the feeling struck him. He was sitting on his bed, staring at the darkened screen of his phone. Occasionally, a notification would show up and brighten the lock screen with the photo of Caelus. Dan Heng hated how his heart clenched, hated how his brain turned to mush, hated how the strings holding his heart together were unravelling.
“I need to do something.” Dan Heng rasped out. He couldn’t see himself fade away like this, in the sanctuary of his own home. It was too peaceful, too calm of a farewell for a coward like him.
On the other hand, the star pictured in his phone could shine no matter how broken he might be.
It took all his strength to not fall when he mustered up all the power left in him to stagger to his desk. Pen in hand, he scrambled to open the drawer under his desk. A piece of paper was folded and laid neatly. Paragraphs were already written. There was one last thing he needed to add, just something that could serve as a documentation. A testimony, the evidence of his final breaths of air.
As if the Aeons were judging him at this very moment, out of nowhere, his grip on the pen failed and it almost clattered to the floor. They were scornful, they were raising their eyebrows in disgust. He didn’t care. He clutched onto the pen and paper like a lifeline. He couldn’t let it go, not even in his next lifetime.
Throwing out the formalities of writing aside, he managed to scribble out a paragraph or two. Before he could move on, his pen slipped as a chill ran down his spine. He knew it was his body screaming out for help. A few seconds later, he was hunched over his desk, desperately trying to breathe through the plant clogging his lungs and burning his oesophagus.
There was no water on his desk, but he had to keep writing.
He briefly lost consciousness but regained it like a drowning man grabbing onto the strands of grass on the shore. His grip was loosening with every second he held the pen. Stray petals and blood now stained the sheet of paper, but he couldn’t care. There was no time left.
Finishing the last word with a full stop, he curled over his chair as if someone punched him in the guts. This was more than the usual coughing fit. Dan Heng’s vision was fading in and out from blurry to partially clear. His eyes glossed over with mist and his forehead hit the desk. For the first time since he had the disease, a thousand needles seemed to prick his nose as his eyes suddenly welled up with something wet. He could barely even wheeze out a breath now. He knew his face was burning as blood rushed to his head. Oddly enough, his hearing remained as sharp as ever. The last days of summer were passing, autumn was rearing its head around the corner. Trees rustled their leaves in the distance, his windows were open. Evening sounds of cars rushing by, birds chirping, people talking, the wind, his breathing.
At one point, he managed to turn his head and stare blearily out onto the streets. The night sky reminded him of sparkling eyes, a warm smile and a pair of gentle hands.
Dan Heng didn’t want to think about Caelus.
The last time he met someone with golden eyes was years ago. He was still an apprentice at the Sunshine Florists, with barely any experience. A girl with white teeth and a pretty smile walked up to the counter with a bouquet of yellow tulips. It matched her eyes perfectly. She was gorgeous, he still remembers her till this day.
𓇬𓇬𓇬
Autumn breezes past his ears in languid motion. He feels new, fresh, someone unlike himself. He turns his head slowly to see someone smiling at him, the hill that they laid on is warm underneath their bodies. The person calls out his name, and to this, he meets the man’s gaze with heavy eyes. The sun paints the sky in warm hues of orange and gold. Clouds catch fire, edged with pink and lavender, while the world below darkens into silhouettes. He stretches himself out on the grass, pushing a hand through his hair and leans against the smiling man.
𓇬𓇬𓇬
Sunlight filters through the room, cascading the walls and floor. In the heart of a half-lit kitchen, he stands side by side with the same person, a soft hum of contentment filling the air as they glance over their grocery list. Their fingers brush against each other as they review the items they bought.
The wooden table is scattered with notebooks, pens, and the handwritten list they had crafted together. The man’s fingers trace the neat handwriting, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He picks up a red pen and circles an item, his eyes meeting the other’s.
“Coffee.” He reads out, voice a soothing sound that echoes in the quiet space.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the room, a reminder of the warm mugs waiting for them on the table. He picks up a pen and marks another item, his gaze softening and with an almost mirthful tone, he looks at the silver-haired man who laughs. “"Chocolate chip cookies." He sing-songs.
The other man feigns annoyance, rolling his eyes playfully. "Of course."
With the last item checked off, he places the pen down and regards the golden boy again. Their eyes meet, all the tension dissipating in the air. He reaches for his hand, his touch warm and steady, a reminder of his everlasting presence.
Dan Heng closed his eyes.
He’s breathing.
His head resurfaces from the water as he gasps for air. He isn’t a fan of being submerged in water. The way the water fills his lungs is uncomfortable and makes goosebumps rise to his skin. Some of his friends who used to cough up flowers described the sensation as not too dissimilar from swimming. Except it was a competition of who could hold their breath for the longest. Reemerging from the water is being rebirthed. When your nerves light on fire in the water, every fibre of your existence burns in its desire to live, and to simply live.
It hurts, it hurts like hell. He is sure that his friends didn’t lie to him.
Barely two seconds passed when Dan Heng felt his breath hitch. His inhale was halted midway. Thorns tore open his windpipes. His throat closed up. His ears started ringing. Drowning . The last remaining fragments of his thoughts conjured up. I’m drowning.
Fire erupted within him when his fingers twitched on his desk. The muscles in his throat convulsed for the last time. Fireworks exploded beneath his eyelids. Although scared of pain, scared of the scraps under his tongue, scared of the flowers swallowing him up, he wasn’t afraid to love again.
I said I’ll love you to my last breath.