#im spiralling at work and i just wanna go home and cry until i die

[asayyoru]

my anxiety always convinces me that im this terrible person, that everyone hates me because im annoying and weird etc but idk if it's just my anxiety making me paranoid anymore. i think people might actually feel that way about me and it makes me very sad. i try so hard to be normal but i just feel like no one actually likes or cares about me besides like my mom lol but i feel like that's cause she's obligated to.. i consider certain people to be my friends but i honestly don't think the feeling is mutual and idk what to do about it. should i just try to keep to myself from now on and just leave everyone alone? im already lonely enough as it is... i dont want to do that but at this point it looks like that might be my only option. i think i might just be a terrible person and no one wants to say it to my face ..

[willykappymarnsmatts]

Wrong Direction: Chapter 3 (K. Kapanen)

@moriellymakesmesoft

My phone rings with a FaceTime call from Kasperi a few hours after we texted. My heart stops and I feel like my chest is about to explode. I let it ring out twice before swiping right on the screen to answer the call. When it connects, I see Kasperi wearing a light pink hoodie with the hood pulled up over his wavy brown hair. He looks so cozy, so comfortable. He smiles gently at the screen when I answer, taking me in the same way I am him.

“Hey,” he says so gently it's almost a whisper.

“Hey,” I say back. I turn on my side, laying under the covers on my bed. I continue to just watch him, my heart swelling. My feelings are so conflicting, but one thing I know for sure is that I'm still just as much in love with Kas as I was the day I met him, and that might never change. He was the first person I ever fell in love with.

“Look, Y/N, I feel so bad for what I did. Like, fuck, I don’t even know how to say what I’m trying to, uhh…” he looks away from the screen as he talks and tries to come up with words to explain himself.

I giggle slightly. He looks back at the screen, his brown eyes sparkling. “I missed that laugh.”

I smile gently back at him, my temples throbbing. “I'm still mad at you, Kasperi.”

He pouts. “I know. I know you are. I hate myself for ever causing you this much pain, believe me. I wanna fix this. I want to be the one to love you.”

“It's really not that easy. What you did is unforgivable. Do you really think I'll run back to you just like that? I have some self-worth, Kas, and I know I didn't deserve that. That night, I wanted to make you a nice dinner because I felt bad for leaving you at home while I was working, despite the fact that there was nothing for me to feel bad about because I was out working. I wasn't the one cheating.”

“I know. I know, I’m so fucking stupid. I really fucked up, I know. I don’t deserve a second chance. I don’t even deserve you talking to me at all right now. I deserve jack shit, I know that. But I don’t want to lose you. Is there any way I can fix this? I’ll do anything to get you back, Y/N.”

I look away from the screen and take a breath. When I look back, he's staring at me with the same doe-eyed expression as when he first asked me out. “I don’t know.”

He looks like he might cry, and in the back of my mind I feel bad for being so harsh, but I quickly push that thought away, reminding myself how grave his mistake really was. I went to sleep crying for months. I gave him my all for what felt like forever and he threw it all away in one action. Everything felt like it was built on lies upon lies upon lies. He runs his hand down his face and pushes his hair back under his hood. “What do I do to fix this?”

I'm silent for a moment, wondering if there is even a way to fix this. “Why did you do it?” I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth, unsure of whether or not I really want to hear his answer. “I, uhm, I never gave you a chance to explain yourself.” After I saw him in bed with that girl, I left without saying another word to Kasperi. And even though that's justifiable, I still feel a little guilty.

“I thought you didn't love me anymore. You were always out doing album promotions, and it felt like there was so much distance between us. I felt like you were pushing me away, and I didn’t want to believe that, I didn't want to think about it. I needed a distraction, and that sounds so fucking stupid, I know. I regretted it as soon as she walked into the apartment.

“Y/N I need you. I need you to understand how badly I need you. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't function without you. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but if you just trust me I know I can fix this. Let me fix us, please.”

I'm silent, thinking and trying not to think. “Kasperi that's the whole point, I can’t trust you, no matter how badly I want to. Please believe how badly I want to trust you like I did. But I'm coming back to Toronto next month. William’s letting me move back in with him.”

Kasperi’s eyes brighten at the news. “Then let me take you out. Let me, Y/N. Please. I miss you so fucking much, oh my God.”

I smile slightly at him, and it grows wider when I see his eyes brighten at the sight of it. If there were such things as soulmates, one person made specifically for another, I think that Kasperi would be mine. There's a lot of hurt in my chest when I look at him or think about him, but there's also an overpowering amount of love. “That would be nice.” He smiles so wide, the first smile he’s given me in what feels like forever.

“I'm going to fix this. I'm going to win you back. You're gonna be my girl again, baby, trust me. Oh, just you wait and see.” I can't help but smile back at him. There's a large amount of trust that he has to win back, but just hearing his voice makes me feel safe and warm and happy.

“Let’s see, Kasu.”

He just smiles back at me. “So, uhm, how are things in Montreal? How’s Domi?”

“Well, he's very much not on your side in this whole thing,” I laugh, to which he smiles and shakes his head.

“He was never on my side, it's not like I lost a fan or anything.”

I laugh, and the nerves in my stomach about calling him, about opening back up a wound that was just starting to heal, are gone. I still have my guard up, but he's my safety. He's my normal, my happiness.

My everything.

So I have to give him a chance to fix this. I have to give us a chance to fix us. Because he's my world, and it would be a mistake to throw everything in the garbage without ever trying to fix it. We continue to talk for a few more hours until I glance at the time and see it's close to three in the morning.

“Do you have practice tomorrow?”

“Yeah, at six. Why?”

“Because six is in less than three hours.”

“Are you joking?” He jumps slightly and his eyes widen as he searches frantically for the time to see if I'm telling the truth. I laugh at him and he calms down, smiling at me. “You're so beautiful.”

“Stop it,” I smile. “I know what you're trying to do and it's not gonna work, Kapanen.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about. I'm simply telling the truth.”

“You have to go to bed.”

He pouts at me. “I don't.”

“You do. I know you haven't been sleeping, you have to sleep tonight. In your own bed.”

He frowns, but nods. “I don't wanna hang up. I never want to stop talking to you ever again.”

“Yeah, well, your phone’s gonna die, and if you wanna talk after practice you should charge it.”

“You'll talk to me after practice tomorrow?” He sounds like a little boy who just got told he'd get ice cream after practice.

“Well, that's usually when I call William, but if you call me first…”

“Oh, I will, don't even worry.”

We stare at each other in silence.

“Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Kasu.”

“Can you hang up? Because-”

I cut him off by pressing the end call button and smile. Not even two seconds later a text dings.

‘HEY!!!!’

‘Go to bed.’

‘fine. but only bcuz ik i get a chance to win u back’

‘Mhm. Gn Kasu.’

‘gn <3’

I smile at the phone screen and put it on the table next to my bed. I should probably get up and take a quick shower before falling asleep, but I decide to just shower in the morning. I don't want to break the feeling Kasperi gave me. I smile as I shut my eyes, thinking that he really might love me as much as I thought he did before everything spiralled out of control.

I go to sleep with a smile on my face instead of tears in my eyes for the first time in months. Maybe I'm a fool, but that's what love does to you. I'm willing to give Kasperi another chance, because he really might be my forever person. I missed him more than words can describe, and I can't wait to see him again, to feel his embrace. I will always love him, no matter what, and despite the amount of hurt he made me feel, I know that we can make it past this.

He means so much to me, and I want to try to make it work, at least once more. I don't want to give up hope of a future with him, a future of late night calls when he's on the road, him coming to my shows, and little kids running around the house. I don't want to give up hope of a life with Kasperi, and I know that we can fix things between us. He loves me, and I love him, and with that we can get through anything together.

‘R u awake?’

‘im going 2 sleep rn but ya’

‘We’re gonna be ok. It'll take time, but I think we're gonna be ok, w each other’

‘trust me, Y/N, i will never ever hurt u again. i love you sm’

‘I love u forever, no matter what’

‘<3’

[mirohed]

kim seunghun | love me, love me not

pairing: kim seunghun + gender neutral reader

wc: 3.7k

genre: hanahaki au + angst 

synopsis: daffodils represent unrequited love. is that why you keep coughing them up?

warnings: implications of suggestive content, descriptions of illness (and mention of surgery), mention of alcohol

playlist: love me, love me not.

a/n: happy birthday to me!! im glad i finally got to finish and post this (its,,, been in my wips since at least february LMAO) !! they prob wont read this but i wanted to thank my irls for dealing w me and my kpop bullshit (esp bc none of them stan ygtb 😔)

It's getting worse.

Your knuckles turn white, gripping the porcelain of the toilet. Tears and blood alike fall into the bowl, disturbing the gentle peace of the water. You pound at your chest, the action causing you to hack up yellow daffodil petals stained suspicious red. It's a monotonous process at this point. Pound. Cough. Pound. Cough. Repeat until the damned coughing stops.

It takes ten minutes before you return to normal. Or at least as normal as you can get. You got lucky this time.

You watch the petals spiral downward into the gaping hole in the toilet and get flushed away.

Being with Seunghun wasn't always accompanied by a tightness in your chest and petals tickling your throat.

june 19, 2005; 2:52 PM.

"I wanna grow up," you had grumbled, your hands squeezed around the chains of the swingset. You and Seunghun had been riding your bikes for the first time since getting the training wheels off. You had sped down a hill ("First one down’s a rotten egg!") and lost control, falling off and scraping your knee on the pavement. He rushed you to your parents' house, supporting your weight with an arm around your waist. The two of you had settled for playing on the swingset in your backyard instead.

"Me too," he said. "I think." He'd been rocking forward and backward on the swing, eyes focused on the blades of grass underfoot.

"You think?"

"I don't know." You stayed silent, trying to gain as much height as possible with your uninjured leg. "I don't wanna grow up and stop being friends." That got you to stop right in your tracks, your leg planted on the ground.

"What?" You sent an incredulous look his way. "Why would we stop being friends?"

He had let go of the swing, his hands finding his lap. "Some of the older kids stopped being friends when they grew up," he mumbled. "I don't wanna stop being friends, but neither did they..."

You got off the swing, limping over to him and wrapping Seunghun in the biggest hug your six-year-old arms could muster.

"We're gonna be best friends forever. Don't forget that."

"Best friends forever." If he wrapped his arms tighter around you then, you didn’t pick up on it.

[09:54 PM] huniebee🐝: i had fun today :^))

[09:54 PM] huniebee🐝: i wanna adopt a puppy!!

[09:55 PM] huniebee🐝: will you promise to help me take care of it

You brighten as the messages come in, your phone's vibrations distracting you from the way your throat clogs.

[09:56 PM] you: ofc

[09:56 PM] you: well be the best puppy parents the worlds ever seen

[09:57 PM] huniebee🐝: wait i need to send the pics from the pet shelter

[Attachment: 8 images]

You save each picture, cooing over the puppies you got to meet. This time, you only get a precious few minutes of relative clarity before things get too distracting to ignore. You return to the bathroom with a resigned sigh that devolves into a fit of coughs.

You cough and retch and cough some more. By the time you're done, there are less petals and more blood in the toilet bowl. Your chest still feels full of something you can't quite spit out.

Then you hack up something new: a bloody stem with wet flowers still attached.

There's nothing left to do but cry, your whole body wracked with pain both physical and emotional.

august 29, 2011; 3:15 PM.

"Today was fun," you said, making yourself right at home on Seunghun's bed. Your new backpack hadn't lasted more than a couple minutes in his house before getting neglected on his carpet. Your best friend hummed in acknowledgement, already sitting at his desk with his workbook out. "I'm glad we got to meet some new people," you continued, "but that Hyunsuk guy? Seems like a major pain in the ass."

"Give him a chance."

"I know, I know. I will. But still," you huffed, “it was his first day too. No need to act like a know-it-all."

"I know. But it's the first day. Maybe he'll even himself out with time."

The conversation ended there, and you spent some time staring at his ceiling fan, the blades going round and round in a big, beautiful blur. Before long, you had grown bored, looking over at him only to see his pencil flying across the paper.

"Hey. Let's go to the mall and get pretzels." Seunghun spun around to face you, a foot stopping his chair from going too far.

"Sure," he gave a placid smile. "Do your work first."

You groaned as loudly as you could, sounding much like a petulant child straight out of elementary school. (Which was more or less the truth, but you thought you were better than that.) After a few minutes of uninterrupted whining and failing to get Seunghun to break, you spoke up. "Why do I need to do my work? You're Mr. Hardworking, Mr. Teacher's Pet."

"We're in middle school now," he had said, and you remember thinking you were in for a long lecture, "and pretty soon, we're gonna have to go to high school and take entrance exams and decide which university we want to go to and..." He averted his gaze, put down his pen. "We need to start growing up."

"We're still young," you reasoned, sitting up and letting your legs dangle off the side of his bed. "If anything, this is our time to experience things and, you know, make mistakes before we become adults!"

He was silent for a few long, agonizing moments, long enough to make you think you'd won. The pretzels were within reach; all you had to do was ask for them.

"I call a compromise."

Shit. Compromises were common in your friendship. Seunghun was always a little too good at stopping you from making stupid decisions. The worst part was that you could never argue with them. "We go to the mall to get pretzels—my treat—if, and only if, you do your work. We don't go until we're both finished. Deal?"

You opened your mouth, determined to pick the proposal apart, but his reasoning was (unpleasant, yet) bulletproof. Instead, you reached for your backpack with a heavy sigh. "First of all, fuck you. Second of all," you said, tugging your own workbook out, "you're impossible."

"I know. Do your work."

"Fine."

The math problems had been difficult, definitely harder than you were used to, but doable. If anything, the greasy mall pretzels that were way too salty to be healthy made it all worth it.

Seunghun gets understandably very worried when you text him from the hospital, but he comes to see you nonetheless. In his arms is a bouquet of daffodils.

"They symbolize friendship," he says, setting it down on the table next to you. You stare at the pristine yellow petals and flatten your lips in a tight smile. How ironic, you think, that he doesn't know they also symbolize unrequited love.

"The doctors wouldn't tell me why you're here. Classified information, they said." That much is true; nor much is known about the disease outside of shitty romance movies with unrealistically happy endings. Seunghun always believed in them. You never did.

You don't think your story's gonna have a happy ending.

You didn't want him to know anyway, lest he worry. (And you don't want to think about what would happen to your friendship if he found out he was the cause of it all.) "You don't have to tell me," he begins, sitting himself down on one of those rigid hospital chairs, "I just wanna know if it's bad. Like, well...you know.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Terminal."

"Like if I'm gonna die?"

"Yeah," he rubs the nape of his neck, a bit abashed, "more or less."

"I don't know. Sure hope not," you chuckle. That brings on a coughing fit, and Seunghun looks on, brows knit together. He moves close to offer what little comfort he can, but you hold your hand up to stop him; having him near will only make things worse.

Petals threaten to spill out of your mouth, and panic bubbles in your chest when he asks if you're okay. Your doctor, bless her, chooses that moment to enter. She shooes him out "to speak to you in private." Seunghun, to his credit, obliges and flashes you a smile and a thumbs-up as he goes. You try to mirror his expression (and hope your smile isn't more of a grimace).

The door closes behind him with a soft click. "Friend of yours?" the doctor asks.

You spit the blood-stained petals into your hand, your doctor graciously looking the other way as you toss them into the trash. "You could say that."

october 4, 2013; 5:11 PM.

You tugged at your clothing, feeling more than a little uncomfortable as you waited for your best friend to show up. The DJ, a former student, was already hard at work inside the gym. You heard the bass-boosted beginning of the Cupid Shuffle and shot a frantic text to Seunghun.

[05:11 PM] you: holy shit theyre playing the cupid shuffle can you PLEASE hurry up

[05:12 PM] you: idc if this is our first homecoming you better get your ass over here

[05:12 PM] huniebee🐝: give me like two minutes!!

[05:12 PM] you: THE SONGS GONNA BE OVER IN 2 MIN

"Are you waiting for Seunghun?" Hyunsuk had asked, tie already loosened. You two had gotten close—not as close as you and Seunghun, of course—this year as a result of having classes together. You wondered why you ever hated him.

"Yeah. He won't be too late, thank God, but I'm pissed we're missing the Cupid Shuffle. What about you? I remember you bragging all week about 'flexing your dance skills in front of the ladies.' Or are you all talk, as usual?"

"You know, it's almost like you don't want me to wait with you."

You had laughed, knocking your shoulder into his. The chatter kept up for a minute or two before he made his leave. ("Well, it's time for me to flex my dance muscles in front of the seniors," he chuckled, giving you a salute as he walked off.)

"I'm here! God, I can't believe I missed the Cupid Shuffle," Seunghun said, head hung low. You began to feel a little self-conscious; you were feeling out of place in your semi-formal outfit, yet he looked right at home in his dress shirt.

Chasing those thoughts away, you grinned. "You're here now, aren't you? Come on." You took his hand and dragged him into the gym.

You don't talk to Seunghun or to Hyunsuk after that. You're not sure if you should tell Hyunsuk about the whole situation when he texts you. Seunghun must have told him something was up, of course, and he's insightful enough, sensitive enough (when he wants to be), but you worry. You're afraid he'll open his big mouth. Instead, you send a few messages to your best friend.

[04:29 AM] you: hey

[04:29 AM] you: i just wanted to say in advance that im sorry

[04:29 AM] you: im so so sorry for everything ive done and for what im about to do

There's one last message in the text box, daring you to send it. "I'm sorry I love you," you whisper instead, deleting the message before you do something you’ll regret. To seal the deal, you tap through a few menus until you reach his contact. The picture you've assigned to him is one you took; he's about to take a big bite of cotton candy bigger than his head.

With a heavy heart (though you hope it’s just the weight of the daffodils in your chest), you block his contact. It's better this way. It has to be.

Your doctor said you could get rid of the thick, thorned vines with a vicegrip around your heart and lungs, could pluck the flowers that threaten to spill out at the mere thought of your best friend.

The biggest side effect of it all, she told you, was that you'd forget all about Kim Seunghun. So you steel yourself.

The last thing you think about before they insert the thin needle of anesthesia in your veins is Seunghun's smile, and how you'll never see it in person again.

And how even if you did, you wouldn't remember it as the grin from the boy you love.

october 4, 2013; 9:16 PM.

The frenetic strobe lighting in the gym slowed to a stop, having been replaced with a spotlight making lazy rounds through the gym.

You knew that marked the beginning of a slow song, and dragged Seunghun off the floor in search of some punch. He seemed to have different plans, tugging you back on the floor and pulling you flush against him.

"Where are you going?" he had asked. "You're the one who wanted to dance the night away." His hands found your waist, yours instinctively folding behind his neck. You had wanted to say something about how that claim was void now; he was the one that made you miss the Cupid Shuffle, but the words get extinguished when you look at him.

It was just like that time you practiced in fifth grade, but you swore there was something different about tonight and the way you swayed. You thought back to your practice session in fifth grade, how you had stepped on each other's feet, how you spent the whole time laughing. (For the record, it wasn't for any lack of balance; you started it, laughing as he cried out before he stomped on your toe.)

There was no laughing during the song. Everything was vibrant and deafening and there all at once. But at the same time, it was like everything had been stripped away. Everything but you and Seunghun.

Things changed after that. You were left with a dizzying, free-fall sort of feeling that picked up with each glance at your best friend. Almost every butterfly in the world was taking current residency in your stomach, making you feel light as your body moved to the music. Before long, there was something lodged at the back of your throat, nudging its way forward.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you said, a particularly heavy cough bringing the mysterious lump to your mouth.

Running your tongue along the smooth texture of the lump (okay, so not phlegm), you spat the offending object into the sink: a single yellow petal, coated in saliva.

You blinked.

Blinked again.

"Oh, what the fuck," you muttered, unlocking your phone. One quick Google search later—why the fuck am i coughing up flowers—you found an answer.

Flora mortem. You were loath to believe WebMD, of all things, but you found yourself tapping the link regardless. There was another term for the rare disease: Hanahaki.

Revising your search query was a mistake. The first result was the "hanahaki" tag on Tumblr, which showed nothing but models with tears in their eyes and bloodied flowers in their mouths. Yikes.

You made your way back to the party after that, but lingering in the back of your mind was the cause of the disease: a severe case of unrequited love.

There is only one definite cure for Hanahaki Disease: having the object of the afflicted's affections return their feelings.

You almost manage to purge the petal and the stupid WebMD page from your mind for the rest of the night.

Almost.

You wake up hours later. It's a little disorienting, sure, to come to with little memory of what landed you in the hospital. You peek under the oversized hospital gown to see bandages over your chest, get tempted to rip the IV drip from your arm. The doctor comes in right before you make a move on the needle. She tells you all about how the flowers in your lungs are gone for good.

"You're saved. But the final test," she says, pulling a phone from her pocket, "is this. Do you recognize the people in this picture?"

You recognize yourself next to a boy you don't know. His hand's around your waist, pulling you close. You wear matching grins. Given the way you're both dressed, you suspect the picture's from your freshman year's homecoming dance. Weird. Memory's kinda fuzzy from that night.

"Yeah. Myself. I don't know the other guy. Am I supposed to?"

"No. You're not. Congratulations," she smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're cured."

You look through all the old messages and pictures when you have some time to yourself. You reach out for the memory, the feeling of knowing Kim Seunghun. You get nothing, and while your brain knows something's wrong, you're more concerned about being able to breathe easy.

You move to a new city, far, far away from the place you grew up in. You finish your last year of high school, get a job, start college. You make new memories with new people. You forget all about Kim Seunghun.

It gets easy to forget that you weren't born with the ugly faded red scars that run up and down your chest. It's your only remaining tie to the man you loved so much you almost let yourself wither away. You think it's a good thing you cut him off; why stick around, why force yourself to suffer, for someone who doesn't love you back? Why be with someone if it physically hurts to stay by their side?

But sometimes you wonder. What happened? What happened to him after his best friend walked out of his life for good with no explanation?

Those days are never good. You distract yourself then, often with the familiar kick of alcohol burning in the back of your throat. You've never been much of a drinker, but you figure it's never too late to start.

Sometimes, the distraction comes from being in the arms of another.

(One of your favorite distractions, a young man named Byounggon, had run his fingers along the angry lines one night, jotting them down in his map of your body.

"Do you regret it?" he asked then, eyes half-lidded with drowsiness. You cupped his cheek, ran a thumb along the planes of his face.

"I wouldn't be here if I regretted it, now would I?" He let the corners of his mouth turn up just so, pressing his lips to yours.

You don't talk to him much nowadays, your interactions reduced to likes on Instagram, views on Snapchat. He's moved to a bigger city. "More opportunities," he said. You keep up with his dream of being a musician, always. There was a time when you were his number one supporter, after all.)

"Will that be all?" the cashier asks, jotting your order on the plastic cup. When you nod, he asks for your name. He jots that down too.

But then his eyes widen and he looks at you with renewed interest. "I'm sorry?"

"Is there a problem?" you asks, peering at your name (spelled correctly) on the cup. His eyes search for an answer within yours, some sort of explanation you can't seem to give. He averts his gaze, shakes his head, places your cup in the queue of orders.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Just thought you were someone I knew. Have a nice day." You parrot the phrase, catching a glimpse of the young man's name tag.

Seunghun, it reads in cheerful yellow. There's a doodle of a puppy in the top right corner. You think it's rather cute.

Two weeks later, you meet Seunghun again. This time, you're out for a morning jog. The crisp autumn air greets you as your feet meet the pavement and let out a satisfactory crunch under the burnt orange leaves on the sidewalk.

You both get stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. While you catch your breath, you don't miss the way he flinches, as though he didn't expect you to show up. He schools his expression into something friendly within no time, and you wonder if you imagined the whole thing.

"The weather's nice, isn't it?"

"It is," you pant. "On your way to work?" He raises a hand to tug at the strap of his backpack with a small smile.

"Yeah. You should come by, give us business," he grins. "On mornings like this, I recommend the hazelnut latte." You hum in agreement, not yet recovered enough to converse. "Tell you what, you come and get one when I'm working, I'll make sure it's on the house."

"Really? Maybe I'll swing by." The light changes, and you leave Seunghun behind, waving goodbye as you do.

You come in later that day, ordering a hazelnut latte as promised. Seunghun's manning the register, same as two weeks ago, and when he takes everything down, he smiles. You miss it as you pay, but there's something extra on your cup.

As you take a sip of the (delicious; his coworker Yedam must be some sort of brewing prodigy) latte, you catch a glimpse of the extra writing.

Along the side of the cup is his phone number.

[10:58 PM] seunghun!: more than anything i want to adopt a puppy

[10:59 PM] seunghun!: or rather another one

[10:59 PM] seunghun!: i named this one after an old friend

[Attachment: 1 image]

The picture of Seunghun and his dog brings a smile to your face. You've been spending more time with him recently, whether it be going on coffee runs ("Are you sure you're not just using me for my employee discount?") or complaining about life as a broke college student ("My card got declined trying to buy a bag of chips last night...").

It's nice. Spending time with him is...nice.

It's more than a simple distraction, somebody to hold close on nights your decisions try to haunt you. It’s friendship, something to hold onto when you lose your way in the dense forest of your mind and to cherish when you manage to make it to a clearing and bask in the sunshine.

You've caught a cold recently (probably from that bastard Seo Changbin in your communications class). Seunghun's given you some homemade tea, swearing on its usefulness. It certainly tastes good, the sweet honey chased by tangy lemon. Unfortunately, the tea isn't able to stop the persistent cough you've been plagued with.

Feeling phlegm start to come up, you turn the bathroom lights on, hacking it up and spitting into the sink.

Huh. That's weird.

There's no phlegm.

The only thing in the sink is a single golden petal, coated in saliva.