#so ive been so excited + tuned in since the initial announcement

[nahyeon]

i’m soo looking forward to doyoung’s debut

[dis--parity]

the message.

Summary: Meanwhile, in a hospital in the south of Sweden, a person reduced to a thoughtless shell is filled with new life. Trigger warnings: None. Author’s note: A little bonus chapter that I was excited to get out! It pertains to the final interview file and, well... it’s a pretty big piece of someone’s story.

It’s such a strange, horrible sensation, being trapped in your own body. Motionless, breathless, not even able to blink, not even able to see what little I hear. Days have passed. Or at least, I think they have; all my vision’s a blackout, and I’m quickly losing track of all time. When your eyes aren’t open, when your brain isn’t working right but your ears hear everything around you, it all just seems to melt together. The conversations of the doctors and nurses around me change at the flip of a switch.

I can’t even bring myself to try and count the hours, the days, the months I’ve been out cold. The last sensation stuck in my mind is the impact of a hammer against my arm, my chest, my head. Then, numbness, darkness, oblivion. Absolutely nothing crosses my mind after that. And I can’t even remember how long it’s been this way. 

It’s funny. For as long as I can remember, I’ve romanticised the idea of shutting off from the world; to be alone with the imagination without having to concern yourself with the real world. What a dream that must be, I thought. What a unique, astonishing bliss that must provide. Though, now that I lay here, unaware of how long it’s been, where the hell I am, and without even the will to decide whether I should be thankful for, or horrified by this comatose oblivion, something occurs to me.

The lucky ones, I’ve come to realise, are the ones whose mind and body die at the same time.

Will I ever wake up? Or will this mind finally give in and follow suit to my failing faculties? When I think about it enough, it crosses my mind that it probably doesn’t even matter which way that goes; my mind’s been like scrambled eggs for as long as my eyes have been closed, for as long as this ventilator’s been stuck on my mouth and this IV has been in my arm. I can only think of one person right now that would miss me if I slipped quietly past the veil - and they aren’t even here.

 I hear a jingle from what I think is right in front of me; there’s a TV in the room. I hear the news come and go from time to time, when my brain decides to tune back into the world around it. I’m guessing it’s in the corner of the room, seeing as I’m in a hospital bed right now. I can at least guess that much. If I ever wake up, maybe I’ll get a nice window view. 

Who knows, though? My thoughts and musings about the ray of sunlight I’ll probably never get to see quickly fade away as I’m forced to listen to the the only thing that’s really present in the room. Well, it’s not like I can get up and change the channel anyway, and apparently, I’ve got all the time in the world to absorb whatever this is. Whether I’ll actually retain any of the passing news about politics, science, celebrity gossip and the like, that’s another thing. But this… it seems different to what I’ve heard before. I hear a man delivering a more serious, monotone preamble, but-...

“... as announced earlier, the entirety of the contents of these ‘Haemolife Files’ will now be played on this channel for the purpose of transparency towards the public…”     Haemolife.

My body would have jolted, if only it could. Who knows how long it had been since I heard that name? That name of which a single utterance was enough to snap me back into focus. Up ‘til that point, I could feel my grasp on awareness starting to drift... 

No.

I snatch my awareness back. I have to. For the first time in God knows how long, I had something to pay attention to. Something I had to try and listen to. The voice of an unfamiliar man talks about his discoveries in a crackly audio recording, and asks a question to someone else he’s apparently with. I don’t catch all of it, I know, and I wasn’t about to get my hopes up, but there was only one person I could think of at that moment.

    Gale. Gale. Gale.     Please.     Please, tell me someone remembered you.

“... why do this? Haemolife was more or less off the radar until that weapons shipment came in.”

“... think that was the point they factored Gale in… had the willpower to defy… didn’t have the same fear Iris did. They knew… they knew she’d blab eventually. Desperate times, maybe.”

...what?

No. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way. 

    Every part of me was looking out for that name -  a mention of her would have craved that phantom hunger my near-lifeless body felt right now. But, oh, did I hear so much more than my failing mind could have expected. She was dead. For the longest time, I thought she was dead. And now, as I’m hearing her voice, saying her name, talking about what she went through… I found my thoughts paralyzed again. It’s too much, this is far too much–

But, no! No! I can’t lose this moment! This might be the only chance I get to know that she’s alive, I can’t let my mind slip again now! My body doesn’t move, but I can practically feel my stomach turn as I try to regain my focus, try to recoil from the shock I heard from that name alone and listen, for God’s sake, listen to what she has to say.

“And the way Rosenfeld took ‘desperate measures’ was to initiate a terrorist attack before you could expose the truth?”

“No - not to take everyone else out. To destroy everyone in the know - myself included. Maybe something changed along the way, maybe they realised your CIA was onto them. Either way… it was the end for all of us.”

“Even the ones cross country… shit. They were prepared for this. Shit… I mean… you told me about your parents. I guess you didn’t leave anyone behind, at least.”

There’s silence for a moment. I wonder if I’m losing awareness again before I hear that familiar sigh through crackling audio. Finally, I heard her speak up again, her voice more shaken than it was before. I don’t know what led to me hearing this, what led to all this being exposed when it had been so long, but it was no less painful for me to listen to her, to be reminded of all that had happened to her, to us. I was starting to wonder if she even remembered who I was, when my answer came to me without me having to ask.

“… we did. Fuck. I did. We… couldn’t even say goodbye. We knew what was happening, and-... we pushed him away. We didn’t want to drag him into this, too.”

“Who?”

“… his name was Alex.“

Me? Me? She remembered, after all this time? I ask the brief silence that’s allowed between me registering my own name and her next sentence how this could even be possible. There’s no reply but the gentle static of the television as she continues speaking.

“He was there for us. If it wasn’t for him, we might not be Garis now.” ‘Garis’? What kind of name is that? Don’t tell me… no. Save that thought for another time.

“He showed us the best of times, and stuck with us in the worst of times. He knew… he knew about what we truly went through, we told him. And he helped us anyway. Loved us anyway. He…” ...what’s that silence for? “They, told me about how their dad used to isolate them socially, stick them to one place, and how they grew jealous of all the other kids who had parents who loved them, parents who took them places instead of keeping them cooped up in their rooms, parents that… didn’t have any agreement between each other to do what they wanted to their children. Together, we figured out ways to fight back against our abusers. I was able to defy the God in the Numbers because of them. Because of their... humanity, that nobody else showed us. Fuck… all that time, we thought we were saving them. But, now we’re together, we realise… they were saving us. If they became a target…”

I hear her sniffle. I feel as if I could cry, but my stupid, stupid body just won’t let me. It won’t let me get up, it won’t let me reach out, call to her, speak to her and tell her that I’m okay, that I’m happy that she’s okay! I wanted her to know, more than anything in the world, that I was thankful for her!

… tell me something,” I hear the other man say. “If there’s something you could say to them right now, if they’re alive, if they could listen... what would it be?” I didn’t want to stop listening to her voice now. If it were me, I know I’d refuse to answer and be out of there, and that’s precisely what I expected from her. We were the same, so I thought. And, hey, they never were the type to wear their heart on their sleeve. But that’s when I heard her again.

“… I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t explain to you what was happening, Alex. But… you saved my life. I wish I knew where you were, and I promise one day we’ll find a way to talk to each other again, someway, somehow, and I’ll tell you, once and for all…

Thank you.”

When I heard those words echoing in my mind, I thought I would break. Shatter like glass on this bed. That I would black out just from hearing her say that, and mean it. It was then that I realised something; for as comatose, unable to act or speak as I was, I was alive.

I’d finally stood up to my dad. It got me where I am now, but it was worth it. When I finally put that bastard in his place, when I made it damn clear that I wasn’t ever going to be a puppet again… I thought of her. I thought of all we’d been through, all she’d taught me. We were just kids, seeking shelter in each other’s misery, but we’d both saved each others’ lives through that. What goes around comes around, I guess.

I want to smile. I want to laugh. I want to scream, I want to cry. I can already feel my mind drifting, her final words echoing in my brain as I slip back into my lack of awareness, the only proof I’ll ever have that the person I once loved and leaned on was alive. Who knows if I’d ever find her again? One thing’s for sure, though, I thought to myself as I drifted through that dark space once more, time losing all meaning in the face of one single, burning objective, my determination already scorching like the sun in my eyes, still forced shut. For as long as it would take for me to get out of here, get back into the world, I carried just one thought; I will wake up from this void, this nightmare. I will live. I will thrive. I’ll be free from the chains that held me down for all those years he stole from me. I will work for myself, and maybe, just maybe… I’ll love again.

I’ll manifest the one thing my dad was right about; I was born for greatness.

And now there’s a world waiting for me that’s worth waking up to. A world with you in it.

Please, for the love of God, wait for me.

However long it takes.

[roseonhissleeve]

Bloom — Part IV — Spring

REQUEST: Can u write a fan fic about the girl owning a flower shop and Harry coming in to get flowers for someone else but then they fall in love because love is beautiful like a flower

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the final part of this story! I may add an epilogue afterwards, but this will be the last weekly update. Thank you all so much for the feedback and the support that this story has received—this one holds a special place in my heart. I hope that you enjoy! x

Bloom: Part I // Bloom: Part II //Bloom: Part III //

The day had arrived.

Harry had been talking about it for weeks and weeks—he’d had such a good time writing his first album in isolation, that he decided to do the same thing for his second album. He was heading off to a remote island off of the coast of South America, and he had booked out studio time for two whole months.

The two of them spent hours together talking about his travel plans and getting him a head start on the writing process. He would spent days sitting at the counter of her little store—he would even occasionally ring in the customers, teasing her about how he deserves to be on the payroll. For the most part he sat and played the guitar, or brought her fun things that he’d purchased to take with him.

She did her best to distract herself from the fact that her best friend in the world was leaving.

It had been almost a year since Harry walked into her flower store that first night, and now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. She understood why she wouldn’t be able to have any contact with him during his writing process—he needed to focus on his music, and she respected that entirely. But it would be the hardest two months of her life, because Harry was her favorite person in the world.

And because she was in love with him.

The day he came to say goodbye, it was almost midnight. She had been doing inventory in the store and stopped to read up on something in her encyclopedias, and she ended up falling asleep in the back room. She didn’t hear the dinging of the bell above the door as Harry walked into the store.

He called out her name softly when he didn’t see her at the counter, and stepped into the store before locking the door behind him. He always gave her grief about how she never locked the front door after closing, especially because she spent so much time there after-hours.

He walked in through the store and behind the counter to go into the back room, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. She was curled up in a blanket, her big book in her lap as she lay back on a large beanbag chair she’d bought the previous month. Her soft snoring filled the air, and even though she was asleep she looked distraught, as if she was having a bad dream.

“C’mon love,” he said, kneeling down beside her as he set a hand on her knee. She stirred a little bit—she was an incredibly light sleeper, he’d learned, and her eyelids fluttered open only enough to see his face. The moment she saw him her lips revealed a sleepy smile, her arms reaching out to him.

“Harry,” she mumbled, still half-asleep. “Come cuddle me.”

He chuckled lightly, moving so that he could position himself next to her on the large beanbag chair. She immediately curled up against his chest, and his heart leaped at the sensation—she’d never been this physically connected to him. 

Up until that point their friendship had been strictly platonic, and he didn’t think that she had any intention of taking it anywhere else. But he couldn’t ignore the thudding of his heart in his chest as she draped her arm across her chest, her nose tickling his skin as it nuzzled into his neck.

“I’ve got yeh,” he murmured delicately, giving her a gentle squeeze as she positioned herself against him cozily.

“Mm, Harry?” She murmured, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, love?”

“I’m…really gonna miss you,” she sighed, and he thought that he heard a hint of sadness in her voice. He ran his hand up her back soothingly, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead before replying.

“I’m gonna miss yeh too, sweetheart.”

He let her drift off to sleep in his arms—he probably shouldn’t have, but he didn’t have the heart to wake her up just yet. Even though she’d been putting on a brave face, he knew that she was taking his upcoming departure harder than she admitted. She always got a little bit quieter when they spoke about it for too long, and she’d been in a cranky mood the past couple of days. And even though he was excited for his new adventure, he had to admit that he was sad he would be leaving her here.

Eventually he woke her up properly and helped her finish closing up the store, neither of them saying much. They both knew that a goodbye was in order, and they were both absolutely dreading it.

Once there was nothing left to do they both stood outside of the store, looking at each other underneath the light of the street lamps.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said softly, forcing a small smile onto her lips. She was holding back tears, but she forced herself to stay strong as he stared at her, his eyes scanning her own features for something that she wasn’t sure of.

“M’not worried,” he replied, his hands tucked in his pockets. Silence fell between them, both of them looking into each other’s eyes, neither of them willing to be the first one to say goodbye.

Suddenly he stepped forward, slipping his arms around her waist tightly. She stood frozen against his form for a moment, her eyes wide at the sudden intimacy. For a second, Harry feared that maybe he’d taken it too far. Maybe she didn’t want this.

But then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. The second she did he held her tighter, as if he could maybe keep her with him forever if he simply tried hard enough. His palms rested at the small of her back, his fingers splayed out to cover as much area as possible—her fingers tangled in the curls at the back of his neck.

She hid her face in his chest, and he nuzzled his lips into her hair, inhaling her scent softly. He never noticed that she smelled like lavender, but he would never forget it. He held onto her for what seemed like forever, yet it didn’t feel like long enough at all.

At the end of the night, both of them went their separate ways without saying much. And maybe that was their biggest flaw, or their greatest mistake.

Because both of them had so much to say, yet neither of them said anything at all.

* 

There was only one song left.

One song that they needed to finish to make the album complete. He had been in the studio for a month straight now, and his album was almost complete—he was incredibly proud of what they’d accomplished, and every song was more or less finished other than small touches there and there.

But there was something missing.

“How do yeh like the pitch in this riff section, Harry?”

“Hm?” Harry jumped slightly as he was brought back to Earth from his thoughts of daisies and lavender. He looked up at Mitch, who was staring at him with confusion and an arched brow, gently slapping his hand against Harry’s shoulder.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, m’fine,” Harry said, rubbing at his eyes softly before spinning around in his chair, turning away from the sound booth. “Play around with the riffs for a minute if yeh want, m’gonna work on somethin’ new.”

“Sounds good,” Mitch agreed, taking a seat in the chair beside Harry and grabbing a set of headphones. When he was writing Harry had a habit of wandering off on his own to work sometimes, and everyone there who worked with him previously was used to it. It was often during those moments alone when he wrote his best material.

He stood up and walked out of the room, grabbing an acoustic guitar from its stand on the way out. He made his way to a small side room and closed the door behind him, sitting down on the couch and setting the guitar in his lap as he began to play with the strings.

His mind swam with lavender and flower petals.

Hours later he sat in the sound booth, playing the full song for the first time. His fingers trembled as he played it, his voice occasionally rasping with emotion as he sang. He still had to look at the lyrics on the page, but for the most part he had it completely memorized solely because of how much it meant to him.

“It sounds amazing, Harry,” Mitch said when he was finished, pulling Harry out of his trance. He looked up from his sheet music and smiled, reaching to brush away the stray lock of hair that fell at his forehead. “What’s it called?”

“Flower Girl,” he announced, his heart leaping at the confession.

“Must’ve really loved her,” Mitch mused, flashing Harry a knowing smile. He chuckled, lowering his gaze to his guitar as he started playing the tune again, the lighthearted melody filling the air as he hummed softly.

The time away from home, away from her, had only solidified and brought to light what he didn’t have the guts to admit before leaving.

He was absolutely in love with her, and he wouldn’t let her go again.

*

It had been two months since Harry had left, and business was booming.

She was busier than ever, which provided a much needed distraction from missing him. She was filling out orders and had even had to hire someone to make deliveries, and she was going to have to start outsourcing more now that she didn’t have the capacity to grow all of her flowers in her little greenhouse. She was working hard and she absolutely loved it, but there was always something missing, and she felt that ache constantly.

She was in the back room reading a book when she heard the dinging of the front door.

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” She called out, shutting the book and setting it aside as she stood up and walked out into the store. Before she could there was another ding, and the store was empty. She stood at the counter, puzzled, until she saw the note that had been left on the counter. It was small and didn’t say much, except for an address, a time, and a pair of initials.

H.S.

Her heart almost fell out of her chest at the realization that this was from Harry, and it almost felt like some weird dream. She’d been waiting for him to come back for so long, and once two months had passed without a word from him she was starting to believe that maybe he had grown tired of her.

She checked her watch—she had two hours before she was supposed to meet up with him.

That evening she closed up the shop early, heading home to get ready.

*

Two hours later she was driving up to the address that she’d plugged into her GPS—she was wearing a white sundress with pastel purple sandals, and her daisy necklace. She had absolutely no clue where this address was taking her, but she found herself practically bouncing up and down with excitement at the reality that she was going to see her best friend again. It was almost too good to be true, but she didn’t let herself give into her doubts, not that night.

It was still light outside when she drove up to the address, which ended up taking her to a small park that she had been to a couple of times since she moved there almost a year earlier. She stepped out of the car and looked around curiously, her heart in jitters as she waited for Harry to make some sort of appearance.

From the distance she saw a small pathway, with what looked like rose petals on the gravel. She began walking towards it and discovered that yes, the pathway had been decorated with what must have been over a thousand rose petals, and she could only assume that it was a sign.

She couldn’t help the smitten smile that appeared on her lips as she began walking down the path, bending down every so often to scoop up a handful of petals and let them fall again through her fingers.

When she finally reached the end of the path she walked into a clearing, and what she saw absolutely took her breath away.

There was a large fountain in the centre of the clearing, the sounds of the trickling water making its way into her ears. All around the opening there were flowers—roses, tulips, daisies, hydrangeas, sunflowers, every kind of flower that could possibly be growing at that time of the year was there, in bunches and bushes that surrounded the clearing entirely. The colors reminded her of fireworks, and she was overwhelmed with the joy that she felt.

Then she saw Harry.

He was sitting at the edge of the fountain, one leg folded over the other. He was wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a patterned t-shirt, a loud, obnoxious blue and purple pattern decorating his torso. He was grinning like an absolute doofus, and she was smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt.

“Harry, what is this?!” She giggled as she walked towards him, doing a little twirl on her way so that she could get a look at everything. He stood up and began walking towards her, meeting her halfway.

“S’yours,” he said, reaching to take both of her hands in his and lift them to his lips. He inhaled softly, his lips smiling at the familiar lavender scent.

“Mine?” She choked, her eyes widening. She was thrown off by both the announcement and the feeling of Harry pressing his lips against her knuckles, something that he had never done before, but it brought tingles to her chest.

“Mhm,” he grinned, nodding his head. “The conservatory’s been here for years, but the owner apparently passed this last month and the lawyer’s been lookin’ for someone to take over the estate. When I heard, I told’em I had the perfect person in mind.”

“Harry…” she gasped softly, giving his hands a squeeze instinctively.

“I love you,” he blurted out, exhaling a nervous chuckle along with the words. “I was, um…I was gonna say this big speech, about all this cheesy stuff an’ how when I met you I didn’t know you were gonna be so important to me, and how the universe put us together fo’ a reason, an’ how I never wanna spend two seconds away from you again let alone two months…but I love you. I just love you, and there’s no simpler, more honest way to put it. I am in love with you!”

He shouted the last sentence out loud, and she giggled, overcome with giddiness at his revelation. When she giggled he began to laugh as well, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly and scooping her up off of the ground to give her a little spin, setting her back down on the ground afterwards.

“Do yeh love me?” He asked, eyes twinkling with hope.

“Oh, you silly boy,” she grinned, standing up on her toes to nuzzle her nose against his in a gentle eskimo kiss. “Yes. Yes, I love you. I do. Of course I do.”

He immediately pressed his lips against hers, and it felt like finally coming home.

They spend hours in her garden, skipping and rolling around in the grass. They felt the happiest that they ever had, and they couldn’t believe how long it had taken them to finally come together.

Their love was like a flower, and it bloomed oh so beautifully.

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