He knew it was futile. Everything was pointless now. He has bedridden for over a week and the young lord perfectly knew his time was gradually approaching. His body was at its weakest; he couldn’t even control his coughing now.

Seungcheol suddenly coughed yet again, his expression grim and dreary as he saw the now familiar red smudges. He wiped it all away, not bothering to look at the blood-stained petals anymore. He had come to a conclusion that only he could see it – those utterly gaudy and bright yellow petals which symbolizes the unrequited love he had unknowingly fostered. He couldn’t help but smile wryly. Like the feelings he had held so dear, only he himself could see it.
“You can come closer you know,” the young lord stated, his usually strong and firm voice now unbearably weak. He stared at the familiar figure not far away from his bed. “Soonyoung,” he called out, a small smile on his lips. “Come.”

The younger being exposed, gradually walked closer. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he gazed at the young lord.

“H-hyung,” he feebly stuttered, his lips trembling. Seungcheol’s heart lurched at seeing him in pain. He reached out and clasped the younger’s hand. “Can you play the zither for me?” he requested. He knew it was better to chang