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Mydei wakes up that morning with an insistent itch in his throat. He blinks up at the ceiling. Clears his throat a few times. The feeling doesn't go away.
He goes about his day as usual, only pausing every so often to cough. He doesn't think much of it. It's just a mild annoyance. Whatever it is, it's not as if he's going to die of it.
Here's the thing about Mydei and getting sick: he doesn't. Not as an adult, anyway. As a kid, back when he'd been trudging through the sea, he'd fall ill quite regularly. Sometimes the fevers would bake his brain, or his lungs would shut down from whatever infection it was, and he'd end dying.
A side effect from all that is that on the rare occasions Mydei does get sick, Mydei ends up just brute forcing his way through, and never bothers to visit a healer. Either he dies or he doesn't. Either way, his body usually speed-runs the entire process and he's completely fine by the next morning. Krateros had always been rather disapproving of that habit of Mydei's.
Since arriving at Okhema, Mydei hasn't been sick a single time. It probably helps that the temperatures within the city are agreeable, and even with the time Mydei spends outside the city, he is at least able to return to the city for a proper rest and meal eventually. It's nothing like the conditions he'd grown up in.
Considering how long he's been in Okhema, perhaps it's about time he's caught a cold. He may be immortal, but he's certainly not invincible. And Hyacine has been lamenting the extra work of the ongoing flu-season recently.
Mydei still has to meet with Phainon in a few hours. Mydei tilts his head to the side, considering. He doesn't seem terribly sick, and he's never seen Phainon catch a cold, either. It'll probably be alright. Mydei really doesn't want to have to cancel on Phainon for such a small thing.
As if on cue, another wave of irritation rises in his throat. Mydei clears his throat, but the urge to cough doesn't go away, if anything, the urge to cough only grows stronger. Mydei brings a hand up to his face to cough lightly into his hand. The cough slowly devolves into a hacking fit. Mydei stands in his room with a hand braced on a nearby shelf. He has to bend over with the force of his coughs. His chest hurts from the exertion. There's something slowly rising up his throat. Eventually, Mydei manages to hack the lump up into his hands. The coughing fit subsides, even though the urge to clear his throat persists.
Mydei draws in a few wheezy breaths. He glances down at his hand and freezes.
In his palm rest three, small, sky-blue petals. There's flecks of gold staining the flowers. They'd be pretty, had Mydei not just coughed them up. There's something scraping inside his chest, and his throat feels rubbed raw.
Well, Mydei thinks, as he looks down at the blue petals in his hand. Turns out he might just end up dying from this cough after all.
"I think I have hanahaki." Mydei says, once Hyacine's lab door is closed shut behind him.
Hyacine stares up at him. Blinks. Stares some more. She's elbows deep in some sort of dissection specimen.
"Huh?" Hyacine intelligently says.
"I thought I'd let you know." Mydei continues. "Just in case I die. Or if you want to send a sample of the growth to Anaxa."
"Huh?" Hyacine repeats. She pulls her hands out of the guts of her dissection. "What? Mydeimos?"
"It's fine." Mydei blinks. "I'll probably be out of commission for about a day sometime in the near future. I figured you could give me an estimate about when that would be…?"
"Mydeimos." Hyacine hisses. Mydei must've really caught her off guard if she's not even using his title. She strips her gloves off her hands and rushes towards the sink. Mydei wordlessly takes a seat in on one of the empty stools on the other side of the lab. Hyacine's work quarters are a strange fusion of clinic, lab, and office space all into one, with flimsy dividers separating the three areas. Hyacine had cited something about space restrictions, during the worst of the Black Tide, but even after everything had passed, the healer had refused to move out of the cramped workspace.
"You're far too comfortable about this." Hyacine says over her shoulder. She dries her hands off and wanders off behind a divider to grab her medical equipment.
Mydei shrugs. "It's not like this will permanently kill me."
"It's certainly got to be uncomfortable." Hyacine purses her lips. "Incredibly so." She makes her way back towards Mydei and immediately sets to prodding at him with all sorts of medical instruments. Mydei takes the poking with grace.
"I'll be fine." Mydei says easily. Mydei shuts up when Hyacine goes to check his breathing. She frowns at whatever it is that she's hearing.
When Hyacine pulls away, she says, "You should tell him."
"No thank you." Mydei shoots the suggestion down swiftly. They both know who Hyacine is talking about, but Mydei certainly isn't going to entertain that train of thought. He turns away from Hyacine to stare at one of the posters stuck to her wall; it's an infographic on lab safety.
"Mydei." Hyacine says, frowning. "Hanahaki isn't a sickness of the body. Even if your body resets itself after death, so long as the feelings persist, so to will the sickness." She steps to the side to grab what's probably Mydei's medical chart.
"I can endure it." Mydei returns. He's still stubbornly staring at the wall. "I'll just have to reset myself regularly."
"Absolutely not." Hyacine bites out instinctively. Mydei finally turns back to look at Hyacine. He raises an eyebrow at her. Hyacine closes her eyes and sighs.
"Why do you have to, though?" Hyacine sets her equipment down. She stares at Mydei. "I don't want you to have to suffer."
"This is my choice." Mydei says. "If I tell him like this… you know what the Deliverer is like." Best case scenario, Mydei gets rejected, and nothing will change. Worst case scenario, the Deliverer will accept Mydei's confession in an attempt to save Mydei, without a thought for his own feelings. It's the last thing Mydei wants.
"I don't want to ruin things." Mydei adds on. And that's really the crux of it. For such a brave warrior, Mydei is terribly afraid of change, especially change in regards to such important figures like Phainon. "Please." He finally says.
Hyacine stares him directly the eyes. Mydei holds her gaze. Eventually, Hyacine's shoulders slump. "There's the surgery alternative." Hyacine offers hesitantly.
"No." Mydei answers with zero hesitation. The last thing he wants is to permanently lose a part of himself.
Hyacine lets out a small sigh. She scribbles something down in the chart, and draws in a small breath. "You're still in the early stages." She says. "And with your constitution… I'd give you about three months before the hanahaki seriously starts hindering you, with no outside interference."
"Alright." Mydei says easily.
"I'd recommend…" Hyacine trails off. She chews on her bottom lip, then seems to muster up enough courage to speak again. "I'd recommend avoiding anything that might trigger more episodes." It's obvious Hyacine knows that Mydei isn't going to take her advice, if the grimace splashed across her face is anything to go by.
Mydei blinks. "I meet with the Deliverer every day. To avoid him would mean cancelling all our plans. It'd be rude, unsubtle, and quite frankly, I just don't to."
Hyacine's lips thin out into a line. "The estimate goes down to two months, then." Mydei tilts his head to the side, considering the number, and nods.
Hyacine is still frowning. "Would you really not consider…"
"No." Mydei interrupts. "I won't."
"I'll have to tell Aglaea."
"Tell her. There's nothing she can do anyway. She knows I can handle myself." Mydei glances up to the clock on Hyacine's wall. "I've kept you long enough. I have to meet the Deliverer soon. I'm sure you'd like to get back to your dissection."
Hyacine purses her lips. Mydei ignores her; he turns on his heels to walk swiftly out of her lab. He hears Hyacine sigh heavily on his way out, but Mydei only speeds up his steps. He's already running late for his meeting with the Deliverer, after all.
It's early enough in the day that the baths are sparsely populated. Phainon is easy enough to spot from within the crowd, regardless- what with the other man being sparkling shades of silver and white.
The Deliverer is flitting about, shifting his weight from foot to foot and restlessly glancing around the lobby. All of that nervousness bleeds away from him when he spots Mydei.
"Mydei!" Phainon lights up in a blinding grin and trots over. He skids to a stop just in front of Mydei and folds his hands behind his back. "You're late." Despite the admonishment, the Deliverer is grinning like a fool.
"Sorry," Mydei says. He steps past Phainon towards the private baths. The Deliverer easily follows him. "I had to visit Hyacine."
Phainon's smile immediately drops from his face. "You're sick? Hurt?" There's an edge of panic to Phainon's words, and a wrinkle between his brows when he frowns. Mydei ignores the urge to reach forward and smooth it out.
Mydei huffs. "Sick. I can't die. I'll be fine. Don't worry."
Phainon pouts. "Let me be worried, Mydei. It's normal for friends to worry about each other when they get sick." He flashes puppy eyes up at Mydei, scooching in far too much into Mydei's personal space.
Mydei turns his gaze away. "Don't worry about it. It's just a cold."
Phainon lets out a sigh, but relents. "Alright. Let me know if it gets worse, okay? I'll come and bring by soup, or something." He takes Mydei by the arm and begins dragging the prince off towards the baths.
Mydei snorts, contentment settling in his chest, and goes along easily with Phainon.
The hanahaki only grows worse over the next few weeks. He visits Hyacine one more time, and she frowns for the entire check-up. It's horribly foolish of Mydei to keep going on like this, but he can't bring himself to change anything either. It's not as if he wants to die, but he wants to lose his feelings even less. He pointedly ignores Hyacine's gaze throughout the entire checkup. Her thoughts on it are quite obvious, but she's not one to meddle easily.
Mydei pointedly ignored Hyacine's look and slips out of her clinic as soon as he can. It's been getting harder to breathe recently; he runs out of breath far quicker than usual, but it isn't to the point where he's suffocating on the flowers. These days the coughs tend to be severe enough that Mydei nearly always talks with a hoarse voice. He keeps a container of honey water with him to soothe his throat. All in all, Mydei thinks, that for the circumstances, he's doing quite well for himself.
And then, like with many other things, it ends with Phainon.
They'd hung out together in the grove today. It'd be a normal lazy day, had it not been for the fact that Phainon had stared at Mydei for the entire outing. The straw that seems to break the dromas's back is when Mydei breaks out into a fit of hacking coughs right as they leave the garden.
"Mydei." Phainon's voice cracks. "You're really sick."
"I'll be fine." Mydei rasps out. He swallows down the flowers threatening to rise up out of his throat.
"You should go see Hyacine." Phainon pushes forward. "You said you'd get better but you're only getting worse."
"I said I'll be fine." Mydei bites out.
"This isn't fine!" Phainon finally snaps. Mydei finally turns to look up at the Deliverer. Phainon looks as if he's on the edge of tears.
"This isn't fine." Phainon chokes out. "Mydei, whatever this is, it could kill you."
"Not permanently." Mydei retorts.
"That's not the point." Phainon clenches his fists at his sides. "You shouldn't have to die to begin with." The Deliverer's stare is pinned on Mydei. Mydei turns his head back down, unable to bear the weight of Phainon's stare.
"Mydei." Mydei doesn't even have the time to react before Phainon reaches a hand forward and cups Mydei's jaw in his palm. The Deliverer turns Mydei's face back up, forcing the prince to stare Phainon in the eye.
"Please." Phainon begs.
Mydei closes his eyes. "Leave it alone, Deliverer."
"It's been weeks." Phainon tries again.
"Leave it alone."
Phainon finally falls silent at that. "Will you at least tell me what it is?" He mumbles.
Mydei doesn't answer. He turns away from Phainon.
"I don't want to hurt you." The prince finally says. There's a mess of feelings bubbling up in his chest. The chief of it- guilt: perhaps he should tell Phainon after all. Then there's the fear and nervousness- what if Phainon realizes? Buried at the bottom of it all is a sickly sweet sort of joy. Like sugar crystals that eat through teeth, sharpened into picks that dig at his heart. Happiness, at being the subject of Phainon's concern. Pain, from being to source of Phainon's concern.
"Why would it hurt me?" Phainon asks. "You're the one who's sick."
"I'll get better." Mydei lies. "I swear. So please, can you just drop it?"
Mydei can't see Phainon's expression like this. Phainon is damnedly silent. Mydei kind of wants to throw up. He swallows down the nausea, but the feeling doesn't fade. Mydei takes a step away from Phainon; something rises in his throat. It itches and it hurts and Mydei wants so badly to cough, but he can't. Not here, like this, in front of Phainon.
It's not up to Mydei, though. The prince ducks behind a corner right as a cough wracks his chest. The single cough turns into a coughing fit, and Mydei tastes the flavor of blood exploding on his tongue.
"Mydei?" Phainon's voice is wrought with concern.
Mydei can't call back; he's still doubled over, choking on petals and golden blood. The prince gasps for breath, one hand propped up against the wall to keep himself standing upright?"
"Mydei?" Phainon is frantic now. Mydei feels the Deliverer's hand land on his shoulder. He's too tired to even speak, let alone shrug Phainon's hand off. It hurts to breathe, and all Mydei can taste is the iron tang of blood.
Phainon slowly pulls Mydei back to face him. The Deliverer's eyes dart from Mydei's bloodied lips, down to the bloodied clump of flowers clutched in Mydei's hand.
"…hanahaki?" Phainon asks quietly, his gaze fixed on the petals in Mydei's fist.
Mydei squeezes the flowers in his fist and tucks his hand behind his back, even though the damage has already been done.
"Who is it?" Phainon asks, still soft.
Mydei stiffly shrugs. "It doesn't matter."
Phainon's stare snaps up towards Mydei's face at the prince's words. "It doesn't matter?" Phainon laughs, a bit crazed. He sounds like he's choking on something. "What do you mean it doesn't matter?"
"I mean it doesn't matter." Mydei hisses out. His heart is pounding in his chest. There are more flowers crawling up his throat. He wants to run away. "What are you going to do? Hunt them down and force them to love me?"
"How could they not love you?" Phainon's voice rises. There's something that sounds like desperation in his tone. Mydei feels flower stems crawling up his throat again.
"Don't say shit like that." Mydei turns away from Phainon, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Phainon finally falls silent at that. When Mydei finally looks back to the Deliverer, Phainon looks as if he is on the verge of tears.
"Mydei, they're killing you." Phainon's shoulders slump. His hands come up, as if he's about to reach for Mydei, before he lets his arms fall back down to his side. "I don't want you to die for someone who can't love you back."
That's the final straw. Mydei snaps. "They're not killing me. I made this choice on my own." He glares at Phainon furiously. "Who I love is my own business, and I'm not going to force them to love me back." He sucks in a breath through his teeth. "I'm not going to die. Leave it alone."
Phainon doesn't respond for a few moments. Eventually, he finally speaks up. "Alright." The word comes out choked. Phainon's expression screams that the last thing he wants is to drop this conversation, but Mydei has already spun on his heels and stalked off.
Their relationship settles into something of an uneasy truce after that argument. They don't feel as close anymore. Mydei hates it.
Sure, they still meet up to go bathing, still do their groceries together, still go and visit the chimeras, but something in their dynamic has shifted and their relationship has turned into something Mydei can barely stand.
Mydei stead-fastedly avoids all mention of his illness. Phainon, although always with a pained expression, goes along with Mydei. They've largely gone back to their usual dynamic, but Phainon seems to be treating Mydei far more carefully these days; he no longer picks spars anymore, nor does he challenge Mydei to things like races. Perhaps such actions would be a kindness to anyone else, but it grates on Mydei.
It's almost as if Mydei has fallen in Phainon's point of view. Perhaps Mydei has. Every time Phainon swerves away from a challenge, Mydei bristles. But the prince can't make himself to bring up the issue either; doing so would mean acknowledging his illness. So he bites his tongue and settles shallow races and a Phainon who can't seem to see the entirety of Mydei anymore.
Mydei takes care of the flowers himself, one night. He'd still had a week to spare before they'd started to severely inhibit his breathing, but he'd rather deal with them now, after that horrible argument. Perhaps foolishly, Mydei hopes that relief from the flowers, however temporary, will be a balm on their relationship. Maybe Phainon will see how he's improved, and everything will return to normal.
Things don't go back to normal. If anything, they get worse.
Five weeks after their argument, Aglaea calls for Mydei. Mydei's nearly desperate for the break. He can't stand the tension between himself and Phainon anymore. Spending time with Phainon is still pleasant, and it's not as if Mydei's fallen out of love with him recently, but the way Phainon keeps sidestepping every potential point of conflict grates on Mydei's nerves.
Recently, though, the Deliverer has taken to making excuses to cancel on their plans. They're all reasonable excuses- things like 'Anaxa asked for some help' or 'I have errands I need to run for Hyacine- but it's been happening enough that Mydei is starting to worry that Phainon may be avoiding him.
The thought sits bitter on the back of Mydei's tongue. It hurts nearly just as much as the stems digging into the flesh of his lungs.
Perhaps a mission out of the city might fix things. Something about the thrill of battle bringing to people closer. Or back together, in Mydei and Phainon's case.
"Hyacine told me about your sickness." Aglaea says as a greeting, when Mydei finally walks into her office. "I trust that you have your condition managed?"
Mydei dips his head into shallow nod. Right to business, as usual.
Aglaea hums. "There's been a resurgence of black tide creatures along one of the main routes out of Okhema. The last thing I want right is to send you out like this, but it's an urgent situation. Castorice will be accompanying you."
Mydei frowns. "Not the Deliverer?" Disappointment sinks in his chest like a stone.
Aglaea's lips thin out into a line. "He has some… issues of his own to sort through first." Mydei frowns. Phainon had mentioned nothing of the sort to him. Then again, Phainon's been avoiding Mydei recently, so why would he?
Mydei shoves that line of though away as quickly as it rises. No need to risk triggering another coughing fit in front of Aglaea. He should probably reset his flowers before he leaves Okhema, now that he thinks about it though.
"Meet with Castorice by the western gates tomorrow morning." Aglaea says. "Head along the route to Janusopolis. You'll see the hoards easily, but the journey will probably take you a few days."
"I'll be gone for a week, then."
"If things go smoothly." Aglaea answers easily. "Which they should." She pauses, then adds on. "I believe you should have a talk with Phainon when you return."
Mydei fights the urge to click his tongue. His sentiment must somehow show on his face anyway, because Aglaea huffs out a laugh.
"Trust me." She says. "It's very much needed."
"I'll go pack." Mydei stiffly says. He dips into a bow, ignoring Aglaea's parting words.
When Mydei returns to the city, Phainon is not waiting for him. Mydei frowns. Usually, when Mydei goes out on missions outside of the city for longer than a few days, Phainon stands by the entrance of Okhema, eagerly waiting for the prince. The only times he'd been unable to meet Mydei had been during the rougher time periods of the war, when Phainon had been sent out on his own long missions.
They're basically in peace-time now, though. Phainon's absence grates.
"Perhaps something came up?" Castorice offers. "Aglaea could've sent him out too." The consolation does little to soothe Mydei.
"It's fine." Mydei deliberately turns in the direction of Aglaea's office. "I'll go look for him later." Castorice makes a small noise behind him, but Mydei can hear her steps speed up as she matches his pace.
Aglaea's already waiting for them in her office. She seems to be meditating this time, probably making a read on the events happening around Okhema. She opens her eyes when Castorice and Mydei step in, and the two heirs easily make their reports on the past week.
Right as Mydei finishes up his own summary, however, Agalaea speaks up. "
I'd stop by Phainon's place if I were you." The Goldweaver says. Mydei pointedly smooths out his expression into a mask.
"Hyacine has been visiting him quite often, recently." Aglaea continues. "Well, it is flu season." She pointedly shoots Mydei a look.
"…I'll drop by with soup."
"Will you?" Aglaea hums. "That's good. Phainon could do with the company. You do remember what I told you last time?"
"Yes." Mydei says stiffly.
"That's good." Aglaea nods to herself again. "Castorice, if you could stay behind? I have a few things I'd like to go over with you…"
Mydei slowly backs away as Castorice launches into her own line of queries. He dips his head in parting at Castorice and Aglaea, both of whom offer him a small wave, and slips out of Aglaea's office.
He ends up going home to make a vegetable and chicken broth. It's nothing terribly fancy, especially considering Mydei had only taken an hour or so to make it, but its filling, and always a good remedy for a cold.
Now, Mydei stands awkwardly at Phainon's doorstep, the container of warm soup clutched under his arm. He's never hesitated before- usually quite content to just barge into Phainon's place unannounced- but that'd been before their disagreement.
Still, though, Phainon is probably the most important person in Mydei's life. Mydei musters up the courage to knock and raises an arm.
The door slams open before Mydei can knock, leaving Mydei standing there with his arm awkwardly held up in the air. He blinks when he sees Hyacine on the other side of the threshold. The healer stares up at him, then slumps forward.
"Oh thank Kephale you're here." She sighs. "I was just about to go look for you."
"Hyacine?" Mydei frowns.
Hyacine easily steps past Mydei, ducking under his arm on her way out. She twists around to push him up the steps and into Phainon's house. "I'm sure you'll be able to handle this. I'll give you guys some space but holler if you need me."
"Hyacine?"
"Good luck!" As soon as Mydei steps into the entry hall of the house, Hyacine reaches inside to pull the front door shut between them. Mydei blinks at the door. He turns around and trails into Phainon's house.
"Deliverer?" Mydei calls out. He sets the container of soup on the kitchen counter. "I brought you soup." Phainon doesn't respond, but Mydei can hear a sudden bought of choking coughs coming from the bathroom.
Frowning, Mydei wanders over. The bathroom door is slightly ajar.
"Deliverer?" Mydei calls out again.
"Hold on a second." Phainon rasps out. He sounds pained, and the words are oddly quiet. Another fit of coughs sound out.
Mydei frowns. "I'm coming in." He reaches forward and pushes the bathroom door open.
Phainon stands at the sink, hands braced on the counter. The dim bathroom light bathes him in a dull sickly shade of yellow. Phainon glances over his shoulder at Mydei. There's golden blood staining the Deliverer's lips. He looks absolutely drained, far too pale and wan.
Mydei's eyes widen, and his gaze darts down to the sink. There, amongst the water and flecks of golden blood, rests an fully-formed and vibrant-red lily flower.
"You have hanahaki." Mydei says dumbly. Hanahaki, which can only mean that Phainon loves someone who does not love him back. The flower is fully formed too; Phainon's at the intermediate stage of hanahaki already.
"That's why Aglaea didn't want to send you out." The realization clicks. "Deliverer- Phainon- how long?" Mydei chokes out. He swallows down his own urge to cough. His chest hurts; it's not because of the flowers.
Phainon shrugs stiffly. "A bit over a month, I think?"
"They're full flowers."
Phainon laughs sardonically. "Well, that's a given." He stares down into the sink. "No point in hiding even that, I guess."
Mydei wants to vomit. His heart is a lump in his throat; it's wrapped in thorns and scraping his chest on the way up. "Who is it?"
Phainon makes a pained smile. "You didn't answer me when I asked."
"I'm immortal. I can't die from hanahaki." The roots are scraping along the back of Mydei's throat now. He can taste iron on the back of his tongue. "I won't die from it. You can."
"It still hurts you." Phainon says.
"It's hurting you too." Mydei tries.
"What's the difference then?" Phainon's eyes flutter shut. "At the end of the day it's hurting both of us."
"It's killing you." Mydei begs.
Phainon opens his eyes. He twists around to face Mydei and leans against the sink. "I'm stronger than that." He smiles again. It's ceramic at the edges. "Don't worry Mydei, it won't kill me either. You've seen what I've become. Those flowers will burn to ashes before they kill me, and I'll never let them burn."
Mydei stares at Phainon. Phainon's still smiling.
Mydei's throat is dry when he finally speaks up again. "If I tell you mine, will you tell me yours?"
Phainon closes his eyes again. "What's the point of that?"
"You were all over me at the beginning, begging to know."
"That was before I got sick, Mydei." Phainon stands upright. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. He won't meet Mydei's eye.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm a selfish person, Mydei." Phainon says bitterly. "If it isn't me I don't even want to hear it."
"What?" Mydei blinks in confusion.
"I'm selfish." Phainon repeats. The Deliverer chokes on a laugh that might just be a sob. "I want you to myself. I want everything you have to offer for myself. But if you like someone else then I'm going to do my best to make you happy."
There's a realization just on the edge of Mydei's mind. Something like hope is blooming in Mydei's chest. It feels terrible at the moment, even as the hope soothes Mydei's worn edges. "Even if it means hurting yourself?"
"Of course." Phainon finally uncrosses his arms. He steps away from the bathroom sink. "Don't worry about me, Mydei. Worry about yourself first." The Deliverer moves to walk out the bathroom. Mydei practically throws himself in front of Phainon, blocking the door.
The prince looks up at the Deliverer. The Deliverer looks away.
"…It's me, isn't it?" Mydei says quietly. Phainon looks as if he's about to cry.
"Of course it's you." Phainon lets out a watery laugh. "It's always been you. Who else could it have been?" He slides to the bathroom floor, burying his face in his hands. "It could've only been you."
Mydei gets down to his knees. The bathroom tile is cold against his skin, even through the fabric of his pants.
"Deliverer." Mydei reaches forward. He cups Phainon's face in his hands. "Phainon." Mydei's on the verge of tears. "Phainon." He lifts Phainon's chin up, forcing the Deliverer to look him in the eye. There are tears running down Phainon's cheeks. Mydei wipes them away with his thumbs, even as he feels himself tearing up. "Look at me."
Phainon tearily opens his eyes. Mydei takes a seat on the bathroom tile. He sticks his legs out beside Phainon; they sit on the ground together, pressed thigh-to-thigh.
Mydei feels something like elation bubbling up in his chest. "Who else could it have been but you?" Mydei parrots back. "Phainon." He laughs a laugh that's dangerously close to a sob. "It's only ever been you for me too." There's no blood on Mydei's tongue or petals in his throat this time. There's joy running through his veins, and love bleeding out of his hands. He hopes Phainon can feel that love.
"Mydei?" Phainon asks cautiously. "It was me?"
"It's only ever been you." Mydei repeats. "Of course it was you, Phainon. You're the only one who could ever match me. You're the only person who's ever really seen me. I love you. I'd thought that you were the one who…" He trails off.
"It's only ever been you for me too." Phainon quickly responds. The tears have stopped falling, even though the words come out a bit choked. "You're home. I haven't felt anything even close since Aedes Elysiae." He reaches up to cup Mydei's face in his hands.
"We're a pair of idiots, aren't we?" Mydei leans forward, bumping his forehead against Phainon's. "Fuck. I should've listened to Hyacine." He laughs.
Phainon snorts in response. "She gave you that rant too?" He closes his eyes, tilting his face up to meet Mydei's. Their noses brush lightly. Mydei is overcome with the sudden urge to kiss Phainon. He holds Phainon's hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Phainon's hands.
"Can I…?"
"Whatever you wish." Phainon answers easily.
Mydei crosses the last of the distance between them. The kiss is chaste. It tastes faintly of the iron-tang of blood. There's something like regret welling up in Mydei's chest at that flavor, but the sheer joy flooding his veins pushes that regret down.
When they finally break apart, Phainon lets his head fall forward. The Deliverer starts giggling, a bit deranged.
"We really were idiots, huh?"
Mydei reaches forward and pulls Phainon into an embrace. Phainon easily loops his own arms around Mydei's waist and buries his face in the crook of Mydei's neck. They sit there on the bathroom floor, pressed up against each other. Mydei rubs soothing circles into Phainon's back.
Mydei isn't quite sure how much time passes, but the pair of them sit in comfortable silence for several moments. Something in Mydei's chest settles. Perhaps it's the same for Phainon.
"I made soup." Mydei softly offers. "We can warm it up. I think we both deserve it right now."
Phainon lets out a watery laugh. He turns his head to nuzzle into Mydei's neck as his grip tightens around Mydei's
"Sure." Phainon says, the words muffled against Mydei's skin. "You know I always love your cooking."
"The hanahaki's cured." Mydei says when he walks into Hyacine's clinic. "I said I was fine but the Deliverer wanted me to come here anyway."
Hyacine slams her hands down on her desk so loudly Mydei nearly flinches. The healer stands there for a few brief moments, bracing herself over her table. Mydei can't see her expression.
Suddenly, she snaps up to make eye contact with Mydei.
"Congrats," She says. She's smiling cheerily, back to her usual bubbly self. "I'm so happy for you two." Mydei squints at her.
"If you want to say something just say it."
"It'd be terribly impolite." Hyacine is still smiling. "But I will let you know that Aglaea won the bet."
Well, no surprise there. The fact that Aglaea won whatever bet had been going on, or the fact that there'd been a bet at all.
"I will also add on," Hyacine continues. "That I told you so." She stands upright and motions for Mydei to move forward into the clinic. "but also that Phainon is being a bit of a hypocrite, since I haven't seen him yet. If you could use that card to get him to come to me…?"
Mydei clicks his tongue. "I'll be sure to let him know, seeing as he's standing just outside right now."
Hyacine laughs. "The two of you suit each other quite well." This time when she smiles, it's honest. "I really am happy for you, truly. It's about time."
Mydei blinks down at the healer. There's soft sunlight bathing her clinic. Phainon is standing just outside the door. Mydei's chest has not been this clear in months. "Thank you." He says. "I'm happy too."