Chapter Text
Jeongin wasn't usually the type to worry about other people's lives, but when Seungmin suddenly said he wanted to work part-time during summer break and asked Jeongin to accompany him to an interview, he couldn't find himself immediately agreeing to the request.
“For what?” Jeongin asked.
Seungmin was now in third grade, and not long ago, he'd even said he'd be busy studying and doing practice questions since college entrance exams were looming.
“Just trying it out. Mom said I should find something else to do during the break so I wouldn't be bored.”
Okay.
That makes sense.
From the start, there was never any pressing reason for Seungmin to work or earn his own money. The Kim family was clearly able to provide for their beloved youngest's needs without much effort.
So Jeongin didn't ask further and let the boy drag him along.
The part-time job Seungmin was referring to turned out to be a two-story building converted into a flower shop. It was an eight-minute bike ride from home.
“Wait here.”
“Okay.”
Seungmin walked in alone, and Jeongin saw him talking to a long-haired boy standing behind the counter.
They chatted for a while about something, and then there was a question that Jeongin took to be, “What’s your favorite flower?” which made Seungmin flustered (because of course, Jeongin knew Seungmin wasn’t a fan of flowers! They’d been childhood friends—for as long as he remembered—and he had never once mentioned flowers in front of him.) before he pointed to a random flower Jeongin didn’t know the name of.
At first, Jeongin thought Seungmin was lying bout this whole part-time job thing. It could have been just punishment for losing a bet with his classmate, and Seungmin needed a witness, so he brought Jeongin with him—but there was actually a part-time job advertisement posted on the window, proving that it was real.
Even so, a flower shop never made it onto Seungmin's list of possible jobs. After all, Seungmin didn't even like flowers. Aren't cafes and convenience stores usually the most common choices for part-time jobs for students these days?
Could it be that the employee was so cute that Seungmin wanted to work there?
The boy who spoke to Seungmin clearly looked young, perhaps even the same age as them. There was an elegance in the way he interacted with his friend. His eyes resembled crescent moons whenever Seungmin spoke—and he had dimples on his cheeks. A true charmer.
Jeongin couldn't help but compared himself to the flower shop boy. He means, he also had dimples—on both cheeks—and his eyes also formed crescent moons when he smiled! But he didn't know if Seungmin ever thought he was charming at all, considering his friend often used teasing as a way to show affection.
Being so preoccupied with his own thoughts, Jeongin didn't notice that Seungmin had come out of the shop and was already standing beside him. His face was as bright as the yellow flowers inside.
“I got the job! They said I can come starting tomorrow,” Seungmin said enthusiastically, showing off a flower pin with purple petals, which he said employees of The Bloomerie—the name of the flower shop—used as identification instead of a regular name tag.
Jeongin was clearly delighted, as Seungmin seemed so fond of his new flower pin and clutched it as if it were a big prize from a lottery he'd just won.
Had he known that The Bloomerie would bring disaster upon his life, Jeongin would have taken Seungmin far away from there.
Seungmin spent all his time at the flower shop in the morning, then came home and studied until late at night.
Every time Jeongin tried to invite him to hang out, or even just have lunch together, Seungmin would always turn him down.
The few times Seungmin had time to talk to Jeongin at length on the phone, he only talked about Hyunjin.
Hyunjin was the boy who interviewed Seungmin at the time.
Hyunjin was the son of the owner of The Bloomerie.
Hyunjin was the same age as Seungmin.
Hyunjin was majoring in art and planned to continue his studies at Hongsik University.
Hyunjin lived a few blocks from the flower shop—a five-minute walk, according to Seungmin's research. (You weirdo! Jeongin had snapped at him back then)
Hyunjin loves all kinds of flowers—but his favorite is roses. (Especially the blue one, Seungmin added. As if Jeongin cared.)
Hyunjin this, and Hyunjin that.
Jeongin tried not to take it to heart. But when he texted Seungmin to invite him to dinner, since his mother happened to cook all of his best friend's favorite dishes, Jeongin found himself woke up without a single response. Not even a No.
The worst part was that when he didn't show up for dinner either, but Jeongin saw him made a post on social media and tag another account he knew to be Hyunjin's.
For the first time, Jeongin stopped reaching out to Seungmin first.
“Are you sick?”
Jeongin pulled the blanket down to his chin, finding Seungmin leaning against the door with his arms crossed. Yesterday, the man had disappeared on him, and Jeongin didn't know why he cared now.
Jeongin answered with a short cough, then pulled the blanket back up. He couldn't stop coughing after dinner, as if something had caught in his throat and left a burning sensation. His mother had been force-feeding him ginger and lemon tea, but Jeongin felt like his mother's magic potion had lost its magic.
“Have you taken your medicine?”
Jeongin cleared his throat again briefly, as if afraid of damaging his vocal cords, even though this wasn't the first time he'd been sick.
Jeongin was hit by a motorbike when they were little, and his condition was much better than this.
Seungmin sighed heavily when he saw Jeongin ignoring him. He knew Jeongin wasn't just sick, but also sulking because they hadn't spent much time together.
Still, he mustered the courage to approach and sit on the edge of the bed, then pulled back the blanket and placed his palm on the younger's forehead. Jeongin's body was definitely warmer than usual, but at least the boy didn't seem as bad as he imagined.
“I'll be home early today. If you're feelin better, why don't you come to the flower shop, I'll treat you to dinner.”
“Okay, okay. Whatever.” Then Seungmin left. Jeongin felt annoyed that his friend hadn't even coaxed him like usual.
Well, screw him! Jeongin was going to have dinner at home anyway.
In fact, after tossing and turning, boredom overcame his ego. Besides, Jeongin knew he wasn't that seriously ill. His mother said his cough would go away on its own if he just drank his ginger and lemon tea properly.
After some deliberation, Jeongin finally grabbed his jacket and got on his bike, turning right toward The Bloomerie.
The weather was perfect for naengmyeon and ice cream.
Jeongin whistled along the way, imagining how he would spend all of Seungmin's money in a revenge attempt.
When he arrived at the flower shop, Jeongin could see Seungmin working alone behind the counter through the window. The shop was empty, and it looked like he was tidying up before leaving. A gentle smile spread across Jeongin's face.
However, before Jeongin could reach for the doorknob, he saw Hyunjin appear from behind Seungmin and kiss his cheek, as they laughed together.
Jeongin saw it and then he realized it.
Oh.
It was never about trying something new, finding another hobby—let alone a productive activity to kill time bullshit.
Seungmin was simply in love.
With Hyunjin.
They said Jeongin had a rare disease.
Jeongin didn't even remember how it happened. At first, he thought it was a summer fever that had finally caught up with him because he'd been living carelessly during the holidays.
But when his cough and fever wouldn't improve, his mother took him to the hospital for a checkup.
Jeongin himself didn't quite believe it. Who could believe that a deadly disease caused by unrequited love? And they're telling him that he had it?
Until he saw it for himself, how his lungs were now filled with a familiar organism.
A flower.
A living one, with creeping roots that encroached on his respiratory system.
Stealing his air supply and silently tearing his body apart.
The same flower he'd been vomiting for the past two weeks.
The same one that Seungmin had shown him on his pin a few weeks ago.
His cough worsened, but after returning from the hospital, Jeongin stopped eating and shut himself away.
They said that if he didn't get treatment, he could die, but if he underwent surgery to remove the flower growing in his lung, he wouldn't have a chance to feel anything again.
Did that mean he would be defective? Jeongin hadn't even been loved as a whole, so what would he do if he was defective?
His mother was clearly worried. Even Seungmin, who was usually busy at the flower shop, stopped by that night.
Knock after knock came repeatedly at his faithfully locked door, but Jeongin ignored any of them, choosing to drift off to dreamland, hoping this nightmare would soon end.
It never happened.
“Don’t… say anything,” Jeongin said weakly once Seungmin managed to break down his door on the fifth day. Even with his back turned, Jeongin knew that only Seungmin who would be reckless enough to overstep his boundaries (Seungmin acted the way he is because Jeongin always let him be).
Seeing no other resistance, Seungmin finally inched closer and lay down beside Jeongin, who was growing more and more helpless—perhaps even dying—by the day.
“Can I hug you?” Jeongin nodded slowly. As the one who craved the man’s warmth the most, Jeongin couldn’t possibly refuse. (Jeongin would gladly sell his soul to the devil just for a glimpse of him smile.)
But when Seungmin’s arms wrapped around his waist and his face buried into his back, the emptiness Jeongin had been harboring was replaced by guilt that flooded him mercilessly.
“Just do the surgery—”
“I don’t want to.”
“There’s still time—”
“I said I don’t want to.”
“Jeongin—”
“I said I don’t want to, didn’t I?” Jeongin jerked Seungmin roughly.
Suddenly, Jeongin coughed, and several blood-stained flower petals fell right in front of Seungmin, making him gasp.
His fingers reached for the delicate thing, though stained with blood, was still intact, and he examined it.
During his time at The Bloomerie, Seungmin had learned a lot about flower types and their meanings. At that moment, his heart sank when he recognized the purple flower in his hand.
“Are you sick because of me?”
”…”
“Answer me, Jeongin!”
“It’s none of your business!”
“Then just get the surgery.”
“It’s not that easy!”
“Then why did you let this happen to yourself? You know I can't... love you. Not like that.”
“You don't even know me that much!”
“So you want to die instead? What about your mother? Your father? What about… me?”
As his best friend, Seungmin would do anything to make Jeongin happy. Now he was faced with the reality that he was the cause of Jeongin’s greatest suffering.
But Seungmin wasn’t even in Jeongin’s shoes. How could he say that so easily, knowing what would happen if he chose to undergo the surgery?
How could Jeongin face Seungmin so indifferently after laying bare his own heart and telling him that it was true that he was on the verge of death because he fell in love with him?
Would Seungmin understand the pain of being hunted down, devoured, and killed over and over again, even in his sleep?
“You are the most selfish person I've known,” Seungmin muttered, mostly to himself, as he watched Jeongin remain silent.
Yet, Jeongin could still hear him, and the pain he had felt like nothing compared to what Seungmin had just said.
It felt unfair that Seungmin could experience the magical, fairytale-like happiness of being with the one he loved, while Jeongin would die because he fell in love with… his own best friend.
“Get out.”
“Jeongin, I’m sorry—”
But between the two of them, Jeongin always knew he was the cruelest one.
Because it would be better for Jeongin to make Seungmin attend his funeral tomorrow morning, as long as it meant Jeongin could keep him in his heart for another night.
“Get out.”
Seungmin stumbled out of The Bloomerie when his mother told him Jeongin had been rushed to the hospital unconscious.
When he arrived at the inpatient room, Seungmin saw that Jeongin's condition was much worse than the last time they'd seen each other. Flower petals and blood were scattered on the bed, while his parents could only cry while holding their son's hands.
“Jeongin...” For some reason, Jeongin's vision had begun to blur, and it was difficult to keep himself awake, because vomiting flowers was neither romantic nor pleasant. But even on his deathbed, Jeongin still recognized the person he loved.
“Hi, hyung...”
Seungmin's tears flowed like a broken faucet.
“I'm sorry—I'm sorry, Jeongin. I'm sorry I said something wrong, I'm sorry I said that you're selfish.” Seungmin's breath hitched, tears blurring his vision. “I just... I want you to live and still be my friend.”
With his weak body, Jeongin tried to reach for his face, and Seungmin held him tightly in return.
“I’m sorry for being selfish. I’m not sure I can go on living and acting like none of this ever happened.” Jeongin tried to comfort the distraught Seungmin with a little joke, “Please don’t bring me flowers when I die, I already have plenty, you see. Just bring me something else, okay? You know what I like, right?”
Seungmin shook his head as if he had lost his mind, “I know, I’m sorry for forcing you. But don’t die, Jeongin. I quit my part-time job to hang out with you. You said you wanted to go to the beach, we could spend the summer there however you want. So don't die. It'll get better. I will learn how to love you.”
A tear fell as Jeongin was sure he couldn't utter another word.
Honestly, Jeongin was afraid of dying. He was afraid of making his parents and Seungmin sad. He was also afraid of the things he hadn't done in this life. But all the choices he could make were no better than killing himself.
“Don't cry, I just hope you remember me at least as much as you love the flowers at The Bloomerie.” (And as much as you love Hyunjin.)
Jeongin wasn't a flower expert like Hyunjin—or Seungmin, who learned by working in a flower shop, but at least he knew that flowers were not supposed to last.
Their job was to help us live in the present. They grow and thrive, they blossom, they wither, and they're gone. Just like the flowers that grew in him. Though the tiny roots continued to stretch and tear at his lungs, leaving him gasping for air, leaving him breathless, and leaving a bitter, sweet taste that clogged his throat. They, too, would be gone.
I love you, it'll pass*. “I hope the weather is nice when I get out of here.”
Jeongin was buried on a gloomy tuesday, Seungmin brought him two boxes of fresh strawberries instead of a bouquet of flowers. Just the way he liked it.