Work Text:
Kayn squeezed his own throat with all the strength he had, coughing, choking, the raw, rasping sound echoing through the stifling bathroom. Every spasm felt like something inside him was tearing apart. His pink hair clung to his forehead with sweat, thin strands sticking to his hot skin, while the steam from the shower someone had used earlier still left the air heavy like a greenhouse.
The bathroom was far too small for the despair he carried.
Downstairs, the party was still alive. Laughter, glasses clinking, someone singing an off-key happy birthday to Sett for the third time that night. People far too happy because of cheap alcohol and colored lights.
Life was happening normally, as if the world were not imploding inside a single chest on the second floor.
“Hey…”
Kayn slowly lifted his head.
The mirror was stained, speckled with old water droplets and small rust marks near the frame. Even so, he could still see his reflection: pale, mismatched eyes shining wet with tears that never fell, his chest rising and falling desperately as if every breath had to be stolen by force from the world.
The stem of some flower was visibly coiled around his throat.
It was thin, pressing clearly against the skin around Kayn’s neck. The petals had not opened completely yet, but the thorns were already there, small and sharp, digging into the soft flesh of his throat every time he tried to breathe. Each attempt to draw air made the stem move a little more, scraping along the inside.
A warm metallic taste slid across his tongue.
Blood.
He swallowed dryly and regretted it immediately. The pain came like shards of broken glass sliding down his throat.
But he made no sound.
He didn’t want anyone to hear.
“Are you still there?” Ezreal’s voice came through the door, muffled, far too casual. Too light like he was asking if Kayn had finished washing his hands.
Kayn didn’t answer right away. His hand slipped from his throat and fell against the sink, his fingers trembling.
He let out only a low sound.
A silent invitation for Ezreal to continue.
Go on.
Keep breaking me.
You like that, don’t you?
“We’re still friends, right?”
The sentence slipped through the door like a slow knife.
Kayn let out a choked sigh. His head dropped forward as his mismatched eyes drifted to the cloudy mixture of water and blood gathering in the sink. A scarlet drop fell from the corner of his mouth, opening small red spirals in the water.
Friends.
The word felt absurd.
If it were possible to create a new species of flower from the human blood of someone with a broken heart, Kayn would probably name it “friends.”
Flowers that slowly grew inside the chest until they strangled the person who cultivated them.
He imagined botanists studying it someday.
“Interesting,” they would say. “The plant only grows in organisms that pretend to be fine even after being shattered by unrequited love.”
Kayn let out a weak laugh that immediately turned into another violent cough.
The stem inside his throat shifted, and a thorn tore deeper.
He brought a hand to his mouth too quickly, but warm blood slipped through his fingers and dripped into the sink, staining the polished granite of the counter and the trapped water until it turned completely red.
Downstairs someone shouted Sett’s name again. Someone opened a bottle of champagne and the cork burst free.
The world kept going even while Kayn was dying.
Kayn closed his eyes for a second.
Breathe. Rhaast tried to calm him even knowing it was useless.
When he opened his eyes again, they were calm in a strange way. That dangerous calm that appears when someone decides to hide their collapse behind an invisible smile.
His voice came out hoarse, low, ruined — and still gentle.
“Of course, Ez.”
He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
The mirror returned the gaze of someone who was slowly dying inside — and who still chose to keep loving anyway.