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    Summary

    You haven’t gone home with anyone else in ages, Ilya's brain treacherously supplied, you’d wait for him for months. At that thought, the slight itch in his throat quickly cascaded into a coughing fit, and this time he didn’t bother to cover it up. Little flurries of leaves spluttered onto the floor in front of him.

    It’s reminiscent of that stupid documentary of Shane’s cottage, that one scene when they panned out to the lakefront and stayed there for a few seconds as the leaves fluttered across the camera. He hated that he could remember the whole thing by heart.

    He heaved out a last cough to dislodge the last bit of mass clinging onto his mouth, but instead of the spikeness he was expecting, this was round. He opened his eyes, and a tiny flower bulb stared back. Great.

     

    Or: Ilya gets Hanahaki.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
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