#and gwen and courtney have to put it upon themselves to get these two pining dumbasses together somehow

[noahtally-famous]

tda featuring duntrent, gwourtney, a proper characterization for trent and his ocd, exes gwent and duncney (plus initial awkward tension to sincere friendship and solidarity), and a final two duncan and courtney would’ve slayed so hard

[heathers-wig]

come & find me - heathney hanahaki au part three

note: please check out parts 1 & 2 before reading! this is the final part :)

## / ## / ##

So. It’s the Hanahaki Disease. Such bullshit. I sound delirious just writing it, but it can’t be helped, I guess.

I don’t know who they’re for, but I can’t let anyone find out. It would bring the bad type of attention, and no one can know of this weakness. Especially my “beloved”, seeing as how they’re literally the death of me. I don’t know who they are, but I already hate their guts. Maybe they’ve replaced Courtney as the Most Aggravating Individual of the Year.

## / ## / ##

Good news: I’m not the only one that has the disease! Bad news: Gwen, Eva, Harold, and Izzy know. Oh, and Gwen has it too, and over the idiot skateboarder, no less.

I guess I can’t judge, though, seeing as how I don’t know who these stupid flowers are for. “Pride” and “loyalty” — what type of hints are those? And Izzy was so out of line with the “I bet it’s Courtney” thing. Glad Gwen found it funny because I sure didn’t.

If it is Courtney, I have the worst taste. The worst.

But Izzy won’t be right. Courtney’s Courtney, and out of my league and I’m out of her league.

## / ## / ##

So. It turns out Izzy was right.

## / ## / ##

Courtney’s infuriating, still, but not in the same way as before. She’s so hard to look away from. I’ve observed all these things about her that I didn’t even know I noticed, and now they’re all resurfacing and it makes it so hard to ignore her. All the things I found aggravating before are weirdly charming now??

She’s just… really pretty. And sweet if she wants to be.

Shit, I really do love her.

Wait. WAIT NO THAT'S NOT WHAT I

…

No, I do love her. I really fucking love her.

She’s just?? Perfect. Every time she straightens her hair and every time she proves someone wrong and every time she does literally anything is so goddamn pretty I can’t even breathe around her. Literally. It’s selfish but I want to have all the couple-y things with her. I want the picket fence and matching rings and holding hands. I want her intimacy and love and affection. I want it all.

But… I’m too selfish for that. I’m just going to die, I’ve accepted it. It’s about time the Hanahaki Club does, too, or they’re just playing themselves as fools.

I am, too, by fantasizing like this. Dying is the only way for me.

## / ## / ##

Gwen’s in stable condition. She got in a coughing fit during a Hanahaki Club meeting, and now she’s literally fucking dying.

I’m scared, but I don’t know why.

That’s going to be me, soon, though. Whether or not Gwen lives to see is something I’ll just have to see.

## / ## / ##

Of course Courtney found out. Smartass.

But is it bad that I really, really liked having her attention and care?

Whatever. But, she held my hand today, and her hand was really, really warm.

God, how pathetic am I? I’m literally dying over here and yet I’m getting all flustered over a hand. I’m doomed.

I don’t know, I just wished I could have stayed like that with her forever. Her hand on mine. Her hand squeezing mine.

Together.

## / ## / ##

It got worse.

It hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts and it hurts to even fucking breathe with how much it hurts.

Am I dying? I think I am.

I hope I am.

## / ## / ##

She’s clueless. She’s so fucking cute when she’s clueless.

She keeps on trying to guess who my “beloved” is, and she’s fucking clueless that it’s her. Of course she is. Of course Courtney is smart and sharp at everything but identifying that it’s her I’m in love with.

Of course, of course, that’s just the universe playing “Heather’s Karma” at me.

She’ll fall in love, someday, and it’ll hurt like a bitch when she realizes who she’s pining for is a dense rock.

## / ## / ##

I want to hold her and kiss her and love her and I know it’s selfish but the thought of it is so good but I can’t indulge in it and it hurts.

… At least it’ll be over, soon. I can feel another cough coming.

## / ## / ##

I’m going to die today. I can feel it.

It’s a shame Courtney is going to beat herself up for not finishing the answer on time, though, but she’s going to hurt either way. Maybe I’ll leave her this so that she knows.

God, that’s going to be embarrassing, but at least I’ll be dead and not around to see her reaction, even though it’ll be priceless.

It’s time to go, though.

## / ## / ##

Good (?) news: I’m not dead. Bad (?) news: I will be in a few hours.

I’m high on pain meds right now. It hurts to write, but I gotta.

So I thought I was gonna die. Fucking Gwen n Eva ruined that though. They got me to a hospital. Caring assholes.

The doctors say the flowers are going to suffocate me. Good. I’m ready for this to be over.

My last request is that this, somehow, is given to Courtney Barlow. The doctors already know this.

So, Courtney, hey, how are you? In the event you have this, I’m dead. Sorry. You were the person I got Hanahaki for. Sorry for not telling you.

I’m running out of time but I love you. You already saw the other entries, you already know how much I love you and every part of you. Of course you do. Smartass.

Besides this, I have left you a lotus and an azalea taped in my journal. The azalea means “take care of yourself for me”, and I left you one because I’m going to beat your ass if I see you again too soon. The lotus means rebirth.

I don’t know what happens when you die, but come and find me when we’re reborn. In the next life or the one after that, just come and find me. I’ve never been patient but for you, I’ll wait.

Come and find me.

(Courtney goes to find her.)

❀

She finds her through a vase of flowers. Lotus flowers and azaleas, to never forget the promise Heather didn’t know she made.

And heathers. Especially heathers, year-round. The only difference was that she tossed them out before she could see them wilt, much like the original Heather had.

Over the years, Courtney found Heather in minuscule things. In flowers, of course. In libraries and in pain enduring manuals and in medication and in sickness and in health, Courtney found her.

The girl who lives and loves and cries eventually dies, knowing that she’ll soon be reunited with the girl who lived and loved and died.

❀

0. restart

past the blood and bruise / past the curses and cries / beyond the terror in the nightfall / haunted by the look in my eyes / that would've loved you for a lifetime / leave it all behind / and there is happiness

❀

vi. white heathers & red roses; ‘wishes do come true’ & ‘I love you’

It’s been perhaps a day or two since Heather had awoken from her state of dying that she had accepted with grace, and Heather hates everything about the situation.

She may be in stable condition, but she is in no way getting better. She still hacks out sweet peas and purple hyacinths, along with her own blood, and she still feels just as depleted, but Heather can’t bring herself to care. The hospital gown is stiff, and saying the medical equipment is unfamiliar and uncomfortable is an understatement at best, but still, Heather takes the treatment with little argument to be provided. She’s too exhausted to care anymore, and she knows that in a few days short her time will come for good.

Still, despite her denial of the surgery, that didn’t stop her friends from the Hanahaki Club and the doctors begging her in a gentle yet urgent tone to go through with the surgery. She’s not sure why she declines; had it been a few months ago, Heather would have leaped at the chance for treatment when Gwen first suggested it. Now, though, Heather found herself wrinkling her nose in distaste, shaking her head, refusing the treatment, company, and tray of food brought to her.

Maybe, Heather thinks, if she refused her medication and nutrients, she’d die faster, but it seemed even at the hospital she didn’t get the choice. Soon, both are injected into her, and all Heather can do is sigh and wish the blossoms would overtake her faster.

Her family never shows up, though, and Heather is unsure if that’s truly a good or bad thing.

Shaking her head and the thought away, Heather wordlessly looks to the vase of roses sitting next to her stand on her side with a cheesy Get Well Soon! card attached to the vase.

Momentarily, she wonders if she would be killed faster if she choked on the thorns of the roses, before falling asleep due to her own exhaustion.

❀

It’s around 7 PM when Heather expects her nurse to come around with her dinner — an unidentifiable lump of food that tastes like chalk — when the door to her quarters slams open, and a girl who is very much not her nurse stumbles into the room.

Upon identifying who her unprecedented intruder was, Heather felt her windpipes squeeze, a lump forming in her throat. All she can do is stare like an idiot at Courtney, whose face seems to be unable to choose between adopting overwhelming relief or fiery rage.

Momentarily, though, Courtney’s raw frustration creases her features, deepening a scowl and narrowing her eyes — had she always had those bags beneath them? — to slits.

“You… you absolute idiot,” the brunette seethes, fumbling over her words. “Why? Why did you make yourself suffer for so long over these stupid flowers over me? Why are you refusing treatment? God, you’re such an idiot…”

Just like that, concern and relief overwhelm her initial anger, allowing Courtney to sink to her knees next to Heather’s side. The brunette clutches the other’s nearest hand desperately as her face contorts, fighting back a sniffle. For a fleeting moment, concern overrides all else as Heather watches Courtney let out a muffled sob, but she’s powerless to do anything besides squeezing her hand.

“But if you’re an idiot, I’m the bigger one,” Courtney choked out a watery laugh. “All that time spent investigating, and I didn’t even notice who the flowers were even for — if I had just thought harder, or if you had just told me, I could have put an end to these flowers by telling you how I feel.”

At that, Heather opens her mouth to speak, but winces as the pain seeps in once again. She notices her heart monitor elsewhere spiking, and at this, Courtney gives her hand reassuring squeezes that feel familiar and comforting.

Shaking her head once more, Courtney sighs, a fond smile cracking past her exasperated exterior. “Idiot,” she says once more, smiling, “Did you really think I didn’t like you?”

Feeling herself inhale sharply, Heather blinks once, twice, and three times before deducing that no, she hadn’t imagined the words in a dying state. Courtney’s watery eyes and wide smile and hold on her hand are still there, and so is the pain, momentarily, before it subsides. After exhaling deeply, there’s no shakiness in her breaths, nor irritation in her chest or flowers itching in the back of her throat for release.

There was only air. No flowers, blood, or bloody flowers. Just fresh and clean air that she had been deprived of for months.

For the first time in months, Heather breathes, fully and truly, free of the deadly flowers in front of her beloved.

Courtney seems to have noticed as well (her sharpness is something Heather admired — no, loved about her) as her smile falls off her face as a look of blatant surprise overtakes her features. She presses a shaking hand to Heather’s chest, feeling her heartbeat and the even rises and falls of her chest, and laughs.

She’s still shaking, though, so in a moment of blissful selfishness that Heather finally allows herself to indulge in, she wraps Courtney in a hug, and when the brunette wraps her arms around Heather, she vows to never let her go.

The months of the floral disease have been a chilling winter and her touch feels as though she has provided a getaway from it. The snow has given away and has melted into spring, the season of rebirth.

The brunette's warm. She always was, she always has been, but her warmth was unlike Heather had ever felt before, especially in the cold and lonely hospital. Greedily, Heather takes in her heat and her love and breathes in her cinnamon perfume. She was here, and it was real.

Courtney laughs softly, her chapped lips pressing against Heather’s temple diligently. She gives Heather’s hand a squeeze when they disperse from the hug, smiling brightly. Heather smiles and looks to the roses next to her side and lets herself love.

❀

Later, long after they had dispersed from their initial hug and moved onto exchanges of gentle kisses and hand-holding, Courtney hands Heather a bouquet of flowers just before she is dismissed from the hospital. The brunette looks away from Heather’s inquiring gaze, seeming embarrassed and bashful for the first time since Heather had met her.

When Heather identifies the flowers, though, she understands the uncharacteristic flustered behavior, but finds it charming and amusing rather than embarrassing.

White heathers. She lifted a portion of the bouquet to the light for a better view of the white flowers. Symbolizing wishes coming true.

Whether or not Courtney knew of flower language — after this, Heather was unsure if she ever wanted to lay her eyes on the language of flowers, despite the fact it was seared in her head — didn’t matter to Heather. She smiles instead, brushing hair out of Courtney’s eyes to look into them better.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from all the time she spent talking with Courtney.

Predictably, Courtney opens her mouth to respond, but Heather cuts her off with a kiss.

She had been wanting Courtney and her love and affection for months, now, and now that she had it, she couldn’t help but feel the flowers and vicious coughing were nothing but a bad dream she had awoken from.

When they pull apart, Heather sucks in a breath and chuckles softly, just barely audibly, as their noses bump together.

“I love you,” Heather says. There’s no hesitation or stumbling with her words in her proclamation — only sincerity and assurance. She had waited a long time to even think of saying those words, and they had been pressing against her tongue for all of those months spent hacking up flowers. Still, throughout all of the time and suffering, all Heather had done was fall further, and the words were meant with her entire being.

Courtney’s smile in response was bright. Her eyes are just as bright, if not brighter; the words brought tears to her eyes, but thankfully, they were happy tears.

“I love you too,” Courtney murmurs, and this time, it’s her lips that find Heather’s with a smile pressed against them.

❀

END OF PART THREE - THANK YOU FOR READING! :)