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Summary
“Hanahaki.”
A curse. A disease of the heart. An affliction that medicine can’t heal, and no amount of rest will mend. Something not born of ingesting poison or an illness you contracted from another. A burden of love.
Unreturned love.
“Of course,” you whisper as your laughter fades, staring down at the accursed black dahlia bloom still cradled in your hand as if it isn’t the catalyst for your plight. “This is how it ends.”
Not on a battlefield with an arrow pierced through your heart. Not of betrayal with a dagger to your stomach. It ends from loving him from the shadows.
From never asking for his heart in return.
General Qin Che x You