blood flowers

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The mug of honey lemon tea sits in front of Youngjae on the counter. Hanbin has his head lowered as he gathers his things, but Youngjae catches him stealing a few peeks in his periphery.

Youngjae clasps the mug, feeling how warm it is. He often makes it for Daehyun, but this time, it’s Daehyun who made it for him.

When Hanbin furtively glances at Youngjae once more, Youngjae manages to catch him, their eyes meeting.

“Ah,” Hanbin stammers, awkwardness reeking from his expression. “Do you need anything? I’ll go get it for you.”

Youngjae chuckles softly. “I’m not dying, Hanbin. Just treat me like you usually do.”

Hanbin bites his lips. “Sorry. I will.”

He was present when Youngjae coughed up flowers and was instructed to close up the shop before Daehyun took off after Youngjae. It’s been a few days since then. Youngjae knows Daehyun told Hanbin not to broach the topic. After all, if Youngjae can’t open up to Daehyun when he spills every little secret of his to him, how is anyone fit to ask him about the situation?

Youngjae continues grasping the cup but makes no move to down it. “Are you going home now?” He asks Hanbin.

“Yeah. Jiwon and I are going to watch a movie. Do you want to come?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m working the next shift too, you know.”

“You and Daehyun work too hard.” Hanbin picks up his bag and grabs some chocolate biscuits, stuffing it into his pocket. He stares at Youngjae for a moment before churning out a smile, tinged with some sadness.

“You’ll find someone better. Really.” Hanbin swings out of the store, leaving Youngjae alone.

The words are so misdirected. They should be for Jisook who wasted her years on a guy who can’t even tell what his heart wants. But unfortunately, he isn’t able to come out with the truth to anyone in the shop. Not his friends, not his family, and definitely not Daehyun. Hanbin, Jiwon and Daehyun all think that Jisook fell out of love and broke up with Youngjae.

Youngjae considered telling Jongup, since he was closest to him after Daehyun. He gave up as it frightened him to confess he was in love with a man.

It must have been scary for Daehyun to come out to him. Youngjae truly understands it only now.

Left to silence, Youngjae watches as the flowers by the display window flutter. He checks the time. Daehyun went out to pick up some deliveries, what he said, but Youngjae knows he went out to get some lunch for him.

The thoughts drift by like the chilly Spring breeze. Youngjae sips at his tea and waits for Daehyun to return.

They’re going on their trip to Jeju next week. He had booked the tickets a few days before the disease struck him. Now, the question is when he’ll get the operation.

Of course, it’s straightforward—it’s best to get the surgery as early as possible, so things don’t interfere with the trip. He can stitch this incident as a personal secret into his heart, the only one Daehyun won’t get to hear. Daehyun will live the rest of his life thinking that the Wisteria flowers were for Jisook, and Youngjae got dumped by his long-time girlfriend.

And what will become of his feelings for Daehyun? They’ll wither away and become a long lost memory. He’s sure it’ll be easy to pretend he never loved Daehyun and find someone new. They can return to being the best friends they were, where Youngjae doesn’t act like a selfish brat whose heart wilts whenever Daehyun looks to someone else.

It’s obvious what he should do, but the reluctance chews into his bones like a plague. He’s out of his mind and he knows it. He can’t even put his reasons into words. Why is he hesitant? Maybe because he’s afraid of the pain from the surgery, but he knows the surgery isn’t too intrusive and only leaves some temporary discomfort. What a stupid excuse. He should at least give himself some credit before trying to fool himself with something so weak.

He always prided himself on being logical yet he’s clinging on to a bunch of flowers—and maybe a bit more.

Youngjae jolts when Daehyun pops back into the store. As expected, he has some takeaway in his hand and no deliveries in sight.

Daehyun places the bowl on the counter, in front of Youngjae. He even breaks apart the chopsticks for him, setting out a plate of tofu.

“I got this on the way back.”

“Where are the deliveries?”

Daehyun doesn’t answer. He roams to the back and shoves some boxes in the fridge. “I bought ice cream too. Help yourself to it.”

Youngjae laughs to himself, tone half layered with an unexplainable annoyance. He almost wants to refuse the meal. It’s misery-inducing how nice Daehyun is to him. If he knew Youngjae was coughing flowers because of him, he wonders what Daehyun would think.

Daehyun drags a stool over and sits in front of Youngjae. “Eat up.”

Youngjae nods obediently. He takes one slurp of the congee, swallowing with some difficulty. He doesn’t understand how Daehyun can get used to having a sore throat all the time.

Youngjae puts out a spoonful for Daehyun to try.

“It’s good.”

“How much was it?”

“Forgot.” Daehyun reaches out to pat Youngjae’s head. Youngjae gazes into his eyes.

Knowing first-hand just a fraction of his pain makes Youngjae want to tear up. He’s exhausted even though it’s been a few days and he’s lost some weight from not eating, since his throat hurts. It’s hard to breathe and he has to gasp for oxygen every time he coughs. The mess he leaves behind is bothersome and mocking. Worst of all, there’s a constant heftiness in his chest which resembles a large bruise. Youngjae isn’t sure if it’s the weight of the flowers or the sorrow from loving one-sidedly.

Daehyun is so stupid for choosing to be a blood florist. Is it so worth it to live through such pain every day, for money?

“What are you staring at? Eat.”

“You should have bought some for yourself. You just went for your operation.” Youngjae feeds him another scoop.

“I’m already well, idiot.”

Youngjae stirs his congee. “You should have told me that day that you were going for the operation.”

“It’s fine. You follow me every time even though I tell you not to. I’ve been through it so many times.”

Youngjae doesn’t comment on it, even though he usually seizes this opportunity to castigate Daehyun. “You’ve delivered the flowers to Jinhwan?”

“Yeah. Yesterday.”

“Will he be visiting soon?”

Daehyun rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe. He wants to be friends.”

“Oh.” Youngjae takes his mug and downs the honey tea. “What if you fall for him again?”

“I won’t. I don’t like him that way, really.”

“You liked him once.”

“That was on purpose. I had to like him romantically.”

Youngjae wants to argue but the lethargy doesn’t allow him to. He takes another few bites of the congee, pausing for a long while.

Daehyun offers, “Do you want to take a nap? You can go home.”

“I’m working. Jiwon would say you’re biased again,” Youngjae chuckles.

“It’s alright. He won’t be coming today.”

“That’s not the point.” Youngjae rests his head in his palm. “Don’t you think that you treat me too nicely? Buying me food, letting me sleep on the job.”

“And you don’t like it?” Daehyun snorts as he caps back the congee takeaway bowl.

Youngjae shuts his eyes. “You shouldn’t treat someone so nicely. Especially when I’m just your friend.”

Daehyun stares at him. “What are you suddenly saying?” He chuckles.

He rises from his chair and awkwardly pauses. “Alright. I won’t bother you.”

As he turns away, Youngjae finds the guilt swallowing him whole. Why does he always lose his temper so easily with Daehyun? It’s not his fault that Youngjae chose to like him.

He really takes Daehyun for granted. Youngjae catches Daehyun’s hand, pulling away when the contact stings his skin.

“I was kidding. Do you want some of my congee?”

“And drink your saliva? No.”

Youngjae hits him. As Daehyun laughs, another bout of coughs wrangles through Youngjae’s chest, much to Daehyun’s consternation.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. If it doesn’t hurt for you, then it shouldn’t hurt for me.” Youngjae resumes eating his lunch. “You didn’t get anything for yourself, did you?”

“I’m not hungry.” As Daehyun walks to the pantry, his stomach gives him away on cue. He pops his head out while Youngjae squints at him.

“I farted.”

“I’m going out to buy lunch for you.”

“Hey, don’t. I’m not hungry.” Daehyun slaps his forehead in exasperation when Youngjae stubbornly stands. “Okay, okay, I’ll go buy lunch for myself. Seriously…”

Youngjae melts into a soft smile as Daehyun grabs his wallet and leaves, grumbling under his breath about the weather. Youngjae’s cheeks burn with a bittersweet warmth and he registers for once the flutter in his chest, what he always brushed off as an odd symptom of an affectionate friendship.

Why would he not want to kill the flowers in his lungs? He’s not sure. Being in a one-sided love is more than unpleasant and the flowers make sure of it, b in his lungs and out his throat. His stomach churns at the sight of Daehyun and Jinhwan and he harps over what he lacks in comparison. It’s exhausting to keep it up.

Yet, despite how terrible it feels, he can’t bear to cut away the flowers Daehyun grew in his lungs. He’s not one to believe in legends, but it’s strangely apt that he grew Wisteria flowers for Daehyun. He remembers the first time seeing such trees in Okinawa, soon to be chopped away for future construction. With how the vines drooped like its head was lowered, Youngjae fell in love with the sight. Reserved, modest, yet the flowers grew so many with a stunning magnificence.

When the flowers are gone, what will happen? Will he remember it like a laughable memory? It’ll be a funny secret to him and he might forget it after enough time passes. When he’s drunk, maybe he’ll be able to admit it to Daehyun for them to both laugh over it.

It’s not a big deal to get the operation. He’s being needlessly senseless over a bunch of petals that’s choking up his lungs.

But what if the flowers come back?

Youngjae curls his fingers at the sudden realisation. Daehyun grew back his first set of Hanahaki flowers as he hadn’t stayed far enough from Sunhwa. What about him, then? The doctors always advise to keep away from the source of the disease as relapse is extremely likely, especially in the few months after the operation. Understandably so—if you could fall in love with someone, what stops you from doing so again?

Then, what’s he supposed to do? He can’t stay away from Daehyun. He works at the flower shop; he has to see Daehyun at least once in a few days. And they’re such close friends. He can’t just distance himself for a while without reason.

Tension pulses over Youngjae’s back, adding to the supressed misery in his guts. He hadn’t considered this till today. He rubs his face as the distress builds up in him. He’s emotionally exhausted and this—this is just another huge burden.

He can’t quit the flower shop. Sure, sometimes he does admit they’re overstaffed, but he helps Daehyun make bouquets and take care of the plants. Hanbin and Jiwon both aren’t as experienced with doing up orders and they often ask Youngjae for help when sorting out which flowers are which.

Most importantly, he can’t just leave Daehyun behind. Who will watch over him? Daehyun never bothers to see a doctor when he’s sick. He’s already so annoying with his blood flowering, trying to shift clients forward every chance he gets. Once Youngjae leaves, he’ll definitely seize the chance to pack more clients into his schedule and won’t give himself any time to rest, just like when Youngjae was having his finals.

A few months is too long to be away from Daehyun. They talk nearly every day. Even on days Daehyun isn’t doing any shifts, he still comes down to visit Youngjae. When they don’t see each other, Daehyun usually texts him to check up on him. The longest Youngjae ever went not hearing from Daehyun was during finals, when Daehyun was hiding his blood flowering from Youngjae.

What will Youngjae even tell Daehyun if he distances himself? That he’s busy with schoolwork? That’s bull. They live so near each other. It’s impossible that Youngjae can’t even squeeze out a few minutes of his time to see Daehyun. Not to mention, Daehyun always drops by. As verbally unaffectionate as he is, he makes up for it with how unrelenting his love is in other ways. Bringing over food, stopping by to check on him with the excuse he was passing by—there’s no way Daehyun would obediently leave him alone.

He can’t quit the flower shop. Jiwon and Hanbin need help. Sure, Hanbin has made bouquets on his own, and he’s done them well-

But they need him. He’s sure of it.

He can’t just leave Daehyun behind.

Daehyun can’t take care of himself. He’s twenty-six but can’t do anything right. He sacrifices himself too often and never bothers about his health. It’s true that Youngjae can be overbearing—he comes over unnecessarily when Daehyun’s ill, despite knowing it’s not a big deal. But…

As Youngjae’s shoulders collapse, the door swings open. Daehyun drops the takeaway box onto the counter. He sits down and unpacks the box, garbling, “I didn’t know this was so expensive.”

Youngjae churns out a smile. “Jiwon always gets this.”

“Kid must think he’s a millionaire with a part-time job.” Daehyun slurps at his noodles. He meets Youngjae’s eyes and reaches over to brush his hair back.

“I told you not to come,” Daehyun’s voice drops. “You look so tired. You can go home if you want.”

Youngjae leans away from his touch, making some progress on his congee. He briefly wonders if his romantic love for Daehyun is the reason he cares so much about Daehyun. When the flowers are removed, will he lose the tendency to fuss over Daehyun?

He doesn’t want that.

The more Youngjae thinks about it, the more he finds himself absolutely ridiculous. He really is a fool just like Daehyun. While Daehyun coughed up those daffodils, looking so pitifully, Youngjae thought he’d never choose to suffer over sentimentality, over the pathetic feeling of not being loved back.

Youngjae bites back a cough. The petal slips from his mouth and lands on the table. Youngjae apologetically tries to pick it up but Daehyun clips it between his fingers instead.

“Wisteria flowers—they’re a big symbol of love,” he sighs.

“Really?”

“There’s a story of a maiden in a painting, holding a Wisteria branch. She fell in love, stepped out of the painting to chase after the man, but she wasn’t loved back. So heartbroken, she stepped back into her painting.”

“Oh. It’s apt for a Hanahaki flower,” Youngjae mentions softly. “Have you seen Wisteria trees in real life?”

“Yeah, a few times. They always look like they’re weeping.” Daehyun holds up the petal to the light. “I didn’t think they could grow in the lungs.”

“You’ve grown stranger flowers.”

“Like?”

“Snowdrops. Those bloom in winter.”

“Oh, yeah.” Daehyun thoughtfully presses the Wisteria petal, feeling the texture.

“That just came out of my mouth. Don’t touch it,” Youngjae mutters, somewhat embarrassed. It feels like he coughed up a part of himself for Daehyun to look at.

“You’re the one who’s always inspecting my flowers. Hanbin asked me once why you’re so comfortable picking them up with your bare hands.”

“I’ve washed your stinky underwear. Why would I be scared of flowers from your mouth?”

Daehyun’s face flares up with red and he nudges a hand to Youngjae’s mouth, the poor boy spluttering.

“You and your mouth, seriously,” Daehyun grunts. Youngjae melts into a sweet laugh.

“Who’d you grow Snowdrops for? I can’t remember.”

“Don’t know. I remember it was winter then, though.”

“She must have been special.” Youngjae’s heart sinks as he grins.

Daehyun shrugs. “Maybe it was the weather.”

“Right, you don’t believe that the flowers represent the person you love, even though you do a whole business based on that.”

“For someone who’s practical, it’s funny that you believe in it. And I didn’t say that.”

“I believe in it because you’re an honest person,” Youngjae points out.

Daehyun doesn’t reply him. He continues stuffing his mouth with noodles and eventually, he remarks, “You could fall in love with the same person and get different flowers. I’ve heard of cases like that.”

He goes behind to get a glass of water while Youngjae stares after him.

So many clients, so many flowers, but not a single batch grown for Youngjae who spends the most time with him. Youngjae knows he’s horribly childish for feeling heartbroken over it. He really wonders how unlikeable he is for Daehyun to not spare him a thought in that manner, even though he’s open to men.

Daehyun insists it’s the context of the relationship that makes the difference. But even if there’s hope for him to be loved back, how sad would it be that he has to force Daehyun to think of him romantically? The fact that Daehyun’s been doing this for so long with no thoughts of quitting—does Youngjae think he’s important enough for Daehyun to quit blood flowering, just to pursue a relationship with someone he isn’t even inclined to? Daehyun doesn’t even give a damn about all he’s said for over a year.

“Hey, let’s postpone the trip,” Daehyun says immediately when he settles back down.

Youngjae blinks in surprise. “What? Why?”

“For you to get your operation and rest. You need at least two weeks.”

Youngjae frowns. “No, I’ll be starting school soon. I won’t be able to go for the trip.”

“Well, we can postpone it further,” Daehyun states. “Like after the semester.”

Youngjae gapes at him. “I’ve already booked the tickets and our guesthouse.”

“Cancel them. Your health’s more important. I’ll pay for it. Don’t worry.”

“You’ll pay for it? You have to do blood flowering just to keep this shop running,” Youngjae firmly intones. “We don’t need to postpone the trip. I can do it after the trip.”

“You’ll start school by then. I don’t want you to miss your classes and it’s not fun to have the Hanahaki disease while you’re on vacation. And I can afford it. I’m not that pressed for cash,” Daehyun assures.

Youngjae flutters his lashes. “We planned so long for this trip. I did,” he breathes. “I want to go for it with you.”

Daehyun averts his gaze, some remorse evident in his expression. “I know. But your health comes first.”

Youngjae swallows. “I might not be going for the operation.”

Daehyun stops short. He puts down his spoon and parts his lips, frown materialising quickly. “What?”

“I said I might not be going for the operation,” Youngjae repeats quietly.

“Why not?” Daehyun almost cuts in. “Are you crazy?”

Youngjae squirms. “Give me more time to think about it, okay?”

“What’s there to think about? There’s no use keeping the flowers, Youngjae. Don’t be stupid,” Daehyun’s words are much harsher than usual. “I know you’re doing it for sentimentality or something like that, but don’t. You’ll be glad when you get rid of them.”

“I know, but…” Youngjae drifts off, rubbing the nape of his neck.

“The faster you get the operation, the better,” Daehyun interrupts sternly. “I know it hurts to have the disease. And the fact that you have to walk around with those flowers coming out of your mouth—do you want your friends in school to know about it? They’ll gossip about you.”

“I just want to keep my feelings for a while,” Youngjae says meekly.

Daehyun’s jaw slackens. He reeks of disbelief. “For what? Jisook doesn’t love you back. Don’t hurt yourself more than you already are.”

The words sting, and to hear it from Daehyun himself makes it all the more acidic.

“Do you think you’re being romantic or something?” Daehyun heaves, the incredulity cutting sharp into his voice. “You guys have already broken up. Jisook’s moved on. Do you think clinging on to your feelings does any good? People are going to look at you with pity in your school. You won’t be able to eat or sleep well with the flowers. No one’s going to think you’re some romantic prince if that’s what you’re going for. Seriously, when you get the operation, you’ll regret being stupid and not doing it earlier.”

Youngjae clenches his fist, exasperated by how tactless Daehyun’s being. The fact that he’s talking about Youngjae’s love for him like it’s rubbish makes his throat tighten.

“Of course, you think it doesn’t matter. The feelings don’t even bother you. You “fall” for someone, get the operation, get the payment and then you move on. But it matters to me, alright?”

The curt words spit from his lips, just as bad as Daehyun’s spiel.

Daehyun locks his jaw. “You think the feelings don’t bother me? I’m telling this for your own good. You’re seriously an idiot if you keep the flowers.”

“It’s my love for someone,” Youngjae stresses, hating how the words sound so vulnerable and weak, all the more confirming Daehyun’s thought that he’s a fool.

“I can’t just throw it away like it’s nothing, unlike you,” Youngjae grits. His impulsiveness has always been his worst trait. “It’s easy for you because you don’t actually care, you’re just doing it as a business—for the money. Do you even remember what it’s like to love someone genuinely?”

“Hey, it’s not easy for me. Do you think I enjoy having the disease all the time? It’s ing tiring,” Daehyun snaps. “I don’t want you to go through what I go through. You’re being childish.”

“By calling me an idiot? Childish?” Youngjae retorts. He halts abruptly when he realises they’ve delved into yet another fight, so many since months ago.

“Yeah, because you are. You act like a kid. I’m telling you to get the operation. Since we can’t postpone the trip because you have school, I’m not going,” Daehyun rebounds. “You decide whether you want to go on your own.”

Daehyun rises and Youngjae watches him head to the back with large eyes. The tears well up in his eyes and he hates how weak he is. Every single little thing has been making him tear up like a child recently.

He cups his mouth to even out his breathing, trying not to let Daehyun hear him. Still, the hurt lingers. He’d spent so long planning out the trip and he’d done all the arrangements. He had known that Daehyun wasn’t as enthusiastic as him—he didn’t seem much too interested in planning and a few times, he had brought up that it was a hassle and hinted that they shouldn’t go. But to say he’s not going straight to Youngjae’s face hurts like hell. He really did put in a lot of effort to make sure Daehyun would enjoy the trip, seeing as it was his only long break from blood flowering.

Youngjae wipes at his tears, pressing his arm to his nose. He shouldn’t have been so rude to Daehyun; Daehyun may have been harsh, but he really was saying it for his own good.

They really fight so much lately that it feels like a bad omen. Someday, they may just cross a line and reach an irreparable stage.

Perhaps it’s better that they put some distance between them. Maybe getting the operation and quitting the flower shop temporarily isn’t such a bad idea. Despite how Daehyun had brushed off the trip easily, Youngjae still hopes to push for it—later, when Daehyun cools down. After all, no matter how hurt Youngjae feels over it, it’s Daehyun’s break for is lungs. To give up the trip means Daehyun will continue blood flowering like he’s always done.

Half an hour later, two unfamiliar boys step into the store, looking around with wide eyes of curiosity. Youngjae straightens up, somewhat guarded since teens rarely show respect to flowers. In fact, Jiwon was one of those who thought it’d be cool to work at his perceived equivalent of a spooky store. It’s not that hard to understand, given they were raised in an era where flowers are so tied to a disease.

One of the boys smile at Youngjae. The taller one eyes Youngjae without much change in his expression.

“May I help you?” Youngjae calls out.

“Um,” the taller one mutters, “my mother ordered flowers.”

“Taehyung?” Daehyun pops his head out from the back upon hearing the boy’s voice. He steps out fully and greets the other boy. “Jimin, you’re here too. Give me a second and I’ll get the Chrysanthemums. Is your mother busy?”

“She’s preparing for the funeral,” Jimin says.

“Oh, alright.” Daehyun nods and turns back, wanting to head towards the fridge. He stops suddenly upon seeing Youngjae’s face, clearly noticing his swollen eyes.

Youngjae veers his head away and rummages through the drawers. He takes out his chocolate biscuits and hands them to the boys with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry to hear,” he whispers.

“It’s okay. Thank you.” Jimin eagerly opens up the wrapper and stuffs the biscuit in his mouth, seeming quite cheery despite his swollen eyes.

“Here,” Daehyun emerges, the stalks of chrysanthemum neatly wrapped. “Need me to send you guys home?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “We need to get something else.” He bows a little and exits the store, Jimin waving to them politely. Daehyun stares after them for an awfully long while, lingering at the front instead of going to the back.

In Youngjae’s periphery, he catches Daehyun stealing a furtive glance at him. He hesitates and lowers his head, squeezing the back of his neck as he heads into the pantry.

It takes him 10 minutes to come out again. This time, he loiters in the doorway to the back while gazing at Youngjae’s figure from behind, not realising that Youngjae can see him in the reflection of his phone.

He’s an idiot, Youngjae confirms, saving Daehyun the trouble by turning around with an arched brow. Daehyun steps behind as his eyes enlarge comically, the stalk of purple hyacinth within his palm.

“Uh,” he blurts, evidently having been caught while he’s still musing over what to say. In the end, he hands Youngjae the flower, no words spilling from his lips.

“Sorry,” Youngjae translates the language of the violet-coloured flower in his hand. Daehyun steps out and sighs quietly, settling in front of Youngjae.

“It’s okay. You were looking out for me. I’m sorry too,” Youngjae whispers. His heart flutters like it’s the first day of Spring, a season trapped in a modest shop that the world pays no heed to.

“I thought you’d make fun of me,” Daehyun jokes to ease the sombre mood. He cracks a withered smile and reaches over to cup Youngjae’s tear-stained face.

“Sorry,” he repeats the words he says through his flowers. The smile bleeds off into a heartfelt remorse anyone can sieve out. “I’m the idiot. Not you.”

Youngjae leans into his touch, locking his jaw so the tears don’t come again. “What, do you only feel sorry when I cry?” He snorts.

Daehyun chuckles, voice dwindling into a lighthearted scoff. “I was going to apologise sooner or later. Just wanted to clear my head first. But you have a point—you really know how to sway me.”

“Because I’m an employee behind the counter, crying in your shop, right? You’d probably get reported to the cops.”

“Do you think you’re Hanbin or Jiwon? You’re a grown man.” Daehyun’s wrist brushes Youngjae’s cheek. “It’s because you cry when you’re genuinely sad.”

“Do you want me to cry whenever I’m happy, then?” Youngjae rebounds.

Daehyun squints at him while Youngjae melts into a laugh. “Yeah, I was,” he admits, nudging aside Daehyun’s hand. “I really was sad.”

Daehyun’s gaze falls. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Are you really not going to go for the trip?”

Daehyun parts his lips. He hesitates and concedes, “I’m going for the trip. Just wanted you to go for the operation.”

“You delayed going for the operation when you liked Sunhwa,” Youngjae mentions.

“Which is why I’m telling you to go for the operation. Don’t be stupid like me. I suffered 2 months, only to get rid of it in the end.” Daehyun crosses his hands over the table, looking at the array of flowers.

“Then, you know how I feel now, don’t you?” Youngjae says softly.

“Of course I do. I didn’t have the smarts to get rid of the flowers back then, but you have me to tell you to. So don’t delay it. I don’t like to see you in pain.”

Youngjae offers a sad smile. “Thanks.” He glances out to the road and asks curiously, “Who were those two kids? I’ve never seen them before but you seem to know them. One of them looks kind of like you.”

“Taehyung and Jimin? Their mother was a regular customer when my parents were still around. A few years ago, their father… lung cancer.” Daehyun’s voice drops. “Passed away this week. Their mother came with them yesterday to put in an order while you weren’t around.”

“Oh. They’re still young,” Youngjae breathes sadly. He looks to Daehyun, the florist gazing out wistfully of the store. Daehyun lost his parents at a relatively young age as well when he was twenty-one or so. His father passed on from illness and Daehyun says his mother left a year later from heartbreak.

They were past their prime when they adopted Daehyun, son of a young neighbour who didn’t have the means to take care of him. It was why Daehyun always was prepared for them to go early.

Youngjae reaches out and gently brushes Daehyun’s palm, masking it as an accident. He rests his hand beside Daehyun’s fingers to offer some comfort.

“Want some tea?”

Daehyun glances to their touching hands. “It’s alright.” He doesn’t pull away.

“It’s hard, right?” He hoarsely hums. “Being in love when you aren’t loved back.”

Daehyun reaches out with his other hand to ruffle Youngjae’s hair. “Sorry for calling you stupid. I know it’s difficult for you. But sometimes, you need to do what’s best for yourself. You really get nothing out of suffering like this. No one will reward you for it.”

“You’ll find another girl who will love you back. Don’t make her wait too long by keeping your flowers,” Daehyun remarks, subtly comforting Youngjae with his lowered voice.

“Why’d you hold on to your first Hanahaki flowers?” Youngjae says, not replying Daehyun’s insinuations.

Daehyun tilts his head. “Why?” He repeats, drifting off into a sigh as he mulls over the question. “It’s the same as you, isn’t it? You already know it.”

“It’s because I don’t know why that I’m asking you,” Youngjae poses.

Daehyun remains silent, though his half-lidded eyes give away that he’s barely contemplating.

“She made me happy. I liked being around her. Didn’t really matter if she loved me back or not.”

Daehyun draws away his hand, clasping them together over his lap. He stares up at the ceiling, lips drooping. “I loved her more than the practicality of getting rid of the flowers. Than the pain, I guess.”

Daehyun sighs, shrugging the question off. “That’s not really a reason why. I don’t know either. Which is why I’m telling you not to be stupid like me. If there’s no reason why, then you should get rid of your flowers.”

Youngjae rests his head on the counter, discreetly stretching out his arm as a silent gesture of yearning. Daehyun doesn’t touch his outstretched fingers hanging over the edge of the counter.

“You fell in love with her twice. Before that, you never fell in love with anyone,” Youngjae hums. He would have carelessly said he was jealous months ago, but now that he’s aware of his feelings, the words sting the edge of his lips like a humiliating curse.

“That’s why the doctors tell you not to stay close. Be glad that Jisook’s overseas.”

“After that, you suddenly could fall in love with anyone. Most people,” Youngjae absentmindedly says in spite of Daehyun’s reply, lost in his thoughts. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Daehyun stands and angles his chin towards the pantry. “I’m going to make myself a drink.”

Youngjae listens to the clink of the metal spoon. “Daehyun?”

“Yeah?” Daehyun calls as he stirs his drink.

“Sorry. For saying the feelings don’t bother you. And that it’s easier for you.”

Daehyun returns, patting Youngjae’s head along the way. His coffee smells strong. “They don’t. Just a little. I only said it in the heat of the moment.”

“You always lie like this so I won’t bug you about it,” Youngjae heaves, retracting his arm as he sits up straight.

Instead of denying that he’s lying, Daehyun surprisingly states, “I’ve already told you, it’s not that. I don’t tell you because I don’t want to worry you.”

“You should quit it, then. It’s not a good habit.”

A tranquil silence falls over them as late evening begins to dawn. The flowers stir in Youngjae’s lungs, a sensation he doesn’t think he can ever get used to.

“It’s how my parents were with me,” Daehyun remarks out of the blue, slurping at his coffee. “Especially my father.”

Youngjae perks up, listening with a sincere attentiveness. Daehyun doesn’t talk much about his parents, only mentioning here and there briefly when some things remind him of them. “What was he like?”

“Always lied that he was okay whenever he was sick. When it hurt,” Daehyun hums, alluding to his father’s terminal illness. “My mother always had to figure it out on her own.”

Daehyun delves into Youngjae’s eyes and abruptly melts into a smile. It trickles away slowly, oddly, a glaze wrapping around his irises.

“I do it not because I find you annoying,” Daehyun breathes. “It’s because I want you to be happy.”

Youngjae’s heart flutters. His chest aches and his throat constricts, igniting more hurt. It’s cruel he has to feel such physical agony along with his heartbreak.

“And you end up doubling the pain when I find out. You make me worry all the time because I always have to be observant if I want to know whether something’s wrong.”

“It’s because you worry all the time that I have to do it,” Daehyun counters.

Youngjae flares his nostrils. “Don’t pin the blame on it. You’re getting the order wrong.”

Daehyun laughs warmly. As he settles down, he says, “Go for the operation. We can postpone our trip. I’ll pay for what we didn’t use.”

Youngjae turns away. “I’ll think about it.” He plays with his fingers. “Is relapse likely if I don’t stay away enough?”

“Very. You’re just wasting your money for the operation if you continue keeping close,” Daehyun sternly intones. “You fell in love with that person once. Why won’t you fall for them a second time, or a third or a fourth?”

It makes sense. Youngjae’s heart sinks with dread. “Then, how’d you stop falling for Sunhwa?”

“I kept my distance. I stopped talking to her. Made sure I left the house before she did so I didn’t have to bump into her. And like you already know, I focused on another girl.”

“Who was that? You never told me her name.”

Daehyun scratches the back of his head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

“It’ll be easy for you. Just don’t contact Jisook. You can go on blind dates if you want to or focus on yourself.”

Youngjae nods, gazing at Daehyun while the man sips at his coffee without noticing. His shoulders fall at the thought of having to distance himself. He really doesn’t know what to tell Daehyun if he stops coming for work. Is it plausible for him to take leave for a month or so?

But not seeing Daehyun… he really, really doesn’t want that. Then again, maybe this heavy reluctance will be eradicated once he gets the operation.

Youngjae lets out a short breath.

“Want to try making a new bouquet?” Daehyun suggests, breaking Youngjae out of his trance.

Biting back a cough, Youngjae churns out a small smile. “Okay.”