“Donghyuck,” Why is he dreaming of Mark again? What did he do to deserve this? Can’t he just break his heart once and just run away with it? Why does he have to appear in dreams and break his heart even in his sleep? “Donghyuck, wake up.” He wakes up with a start, pushing the totally real Mark out of the way as his throat starts itching again, managing to run away for a few steps before he falls to the floor, and coughs up more white petals, coming out of his mouth like confetti. He coughs once, twice, three times, and he coughs up 5, 7, 10, 15 more petals. Some of them coming out blue. He stops, feeling Mark’s burning gaze from behind him. He stares at them, beautiful, soft, and gentle. He straightens up, picking them one by one, cradling them in his palm gently. “Can you get me a Ziploc bag, I have some by the top left drawer.” He chokes out, voice still groggy and hoarse.

Mark makes a move to open his drawer and gives him one not after long. “This is the first time there are colors,” he mutters to himself while Mark knelt beside him. “I need to take note of this.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“Nothing.” He smiles. “I’m just going to the doctor again so he can figure out when I can get them removed.”

“Are you really going to?”

“Of course, there’s no other way.”

Mark suddenly stands after closing the Ziploc and putting them in one of Hyuck’s drawers. “We should go out and hang out today.” He says with so much resolve.

“Hyung, its Sunday.”

“Who cares?”

“I do, I’m supposed to be resting.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, he does love it when Mark is enthusiastic like this. “Tomorrow, we can… maybe?”

“But can I…” he looks around Hyuck’s room. “…stay with you today? We can watch a movie, or whatever you want.” And he’s pouting; he didn’t do that often—Donghyuck has always been the clingier one, and not him, so he knows the other couldn’t actually deny him.

“Whatever.” He pretends to brush it off, causing Mark to grin and run off to put his bag down in one of the corners of the room.

When he came out of the bathroom after taking a bath, Mark was fiddling with his guitar, plucking an unfamiliar melody. “How long has it been since you last used this?” He absent-mindedly asks, flinging his hair to one side to keep his hair away from his eyes, making his brown hair bounce. “It’s super out of tune.” He giggles, as if there’s something about that.

“Eyy,” he teases. “What’s wrong with you, why are you laughing by yourself again?”

He tests the guitar and Donghyuck sits by the foot of the bed. “Now, that’s better.” he tries to pluck the same melody, humming along with it.

“Sing it.” he teases Mark. He was always the one who put him in situations like these, making him blush and hang his head. Mark shakes his head, flushing. “It’s kind of ironic, it may be offensive.”

“Well, now, I really want to hear it.” he pushes, urging Mark to go ahead and sing. He hesitates, but starts to pluck on the strings anyway—besides, he hasn’t heard Mark sing in such a long time, it’s a waste not to use this opportunity. Many people would immediately turn to him as the one who had the prettiest voice amongst all of them, and he does agree to that, he is vocally more blessed than the rest of the group, but Mark’s voice was different. His voice is low, calm, and soothing—so similar to his talking voice that he could sometimes imagine him just talking to him and soothing him at the same time while he sang.

He inhales and starts to sing. “Daisies, daisies, perched upon your forehead,” he pauses and looks at him, asking for permission. Donghyuck stares right back at him before he nods urging him to continue. He does find the irony in it, but he doesn’t mind—it’s the kind of irony that makes him think of Mark anyway.

“Oh my baby, lately I know. That every night I’ll kiss you you’ll say in my ear: oh we’re in love aren’t we? Hands in your hair, fingers and thumbs, baby.” he ends it with a tentative final chord, before looking up shyly.

“Eyy,” he tries to tease, but he was out of words himself. “Show off.” He wanted to think it was for him, after all, he was the one who has daisies inside him—he can hope, and he can fantasize, right? It never is true anyway, he never thought of him that way. Mark sets the guitar aside and giggles sheepishly. “I’m not.”

He sits on the bed across Mark, wiping his hands with the towel he had previously slung around his shoulder, although quite aggressively. “It was so dusty, what were you thinking?” he feigns annoyance, scoffing. “Sorry.” The other grins, moving his thumb to his hand gently. Donghyuck’s heart beats exponentially faster, sending shivers down his spine, with butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach. He allows himself to stare back, only for a little bit before a cough forces its way out of his throat, dislodging a blood red petal, which floats in front of him and into Mark’s hand. He stares at it, dumbfounded.

Out of all the petals so far, this one is different, not just it’s color, but its size and shape. Every single one has been a slim, elongated, thin petal, while this one is more rounded and thicker.

“It’s a different flower.” Mark observes.

“Yes,” he looks up after realizing what it is, and what it means. “It’s different.” He remembers what the doctor told him, the meaning of the flowers matter, they always do. Most of the time, they tell you how deeply you’re in. White daisies meant innocence and purity, meant sincerity and childhood nostalgia—all of which describes his relationship and feelings for Mark.

And right now, there is no denying what the red rose meant.

Donghyuck was back inside the bright doctors’ clinic with Jeno, and this time, Jaemin. “It’s still weirdly slow…” he mumbles to himself and he accepts the Ziplocs he brought. “I was calculating the anticipated number of petals the other night and I concluded that it should be around 50-60 petals by now, and that’s taking into account how slow it’s been progressing.”

“That’s 18 petals.” Donghyuck adds, making the Doctor nod.

“I’ve asked several people about your situation,” he starts as he pours some of the petals onto a glass plate, careful not to release everything. “There are multiple reasons as to why the progress has been slow. The inability of the body to release them is one, so we should really give you an ultrasound to see how many there are inside your lungs. Another is the existence of deep feelings on the side of the object of your affection.” Jeno and Jaemin perks up from where they sat, suddenly attentive.

“If you don’t mind me asking, is it a… best friend, perhaps?”

Donghyuck hung his head, nodding. “That could be a reason.” The Doctor concluded. “Deep affection or fondness for you confuses the Hanahaki. It’s also a sign of a possibility…”

“Possibility of what?” Jaemin inquires, making eye contact with Hyuck.

“I don’t want to risk it, Doc.” Hyuck interjects, shaking his head. “Whether he returns it or not, I can’t just wait for it to happen.”

“Yes.” He frowns. “It will start to block your airways at around the second or third month, making it hard to breathe. It is also advised to get is surgically removed at the fourth to sixth month, or…”

“Or I die.”

The doctor sits in front of him, folding his hands in front of his knees. “Right now, we really need an ultrasound. We need to gauge how deep the roots are latched so I can devise a surgery plan. One of the biggest issue why I wouldn’t advise you to wait for your affections to be returned is this,” he holds the red petal in front of him. “I have explained to you… you don’t just have flowers in there, you have roots, you have leaves, you have stems… you have thorns.”

Donghyuck takes a deep inhale, feeling the weight inside his lungs. He nods, understanding. The doctor gives him a small piece of paper with additional prescription and the schedule of his ultrasound.

“I’m going to need your parent’s consent for that.”

Donghyuck’s breath hitches. “No, they can’t know.”

“Why?”

“They’ll ask… they’ll ask who it is. And they’re going to know, and they’re going to tell his parents…” he tries to explain.

“Doesn’t your best friend know?”

“He does, but he doesn’t know it’s him. I lied and told him it was another person.”

“Hyuck…” Jeno sighs.

“Then… you can tell your parents the same thing.”

“But…” I think they know. He wanted to say. He sees his parents look at him sometimes, while he absent-mindedly stares at Mark, at the way he laughs at Mark’s jokes during dinnertime and his mother gives him her knowing looks… they’re going to know it’s him.

He tells them that night. Right before they start leaving the table, he tells them. They were stone-faced at first, blood draining from his mother’s face. “Who is it?” his father asks.

“You don’t know who it is, and we’ve lost contact.”

“Where did you meet? Why don’t we know?”

“We met at band camp last year.” He answers quickly, making his mother send him a worried glance. “I’ve been talking with the doctor, and I need an ultrasound next week and I need your consent.”

His father nods solemnly, comforting his wife. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m getting it removed.”

“Lee Donghyuck…” his mother says shakily, “Those surgeries kill.”

“As long as I get it removed before the roots grow too deep, I’m going to be okay.” He says firmly. He has spent days on end trying to research. The key to Hanahaki was early diagnosis, and getting it removed before it gets too deep. The problem with people is that they hope. They keep on hoping that within a short span of time it will magically be returned, they think the daisies and roses and just going to go away, and they just let them grow.

He doesn’t believe in that—he knows, he knows Mark isn’t going to love him back. For him to get better, Mark has to love him back and even though he does, he needs to actually confess to Donghyuck for it to go away. He can’t just go up and tell him, ‘hey, love me back yet? Can you confess, please, I need these damn daisies out of my lungs’, can he? So he accepted his fate. He’s accepted that a long time ago, and he always thought that if there was any way that he could just make the feelings go away, he would. And now he has the chance to do it.

He was shoving things into his bag as the bell rung signaling the end of the day when he spotted Mark waiting for him by the door. The other smiles widely and waves at him, motioning for him to come over. “Good luck.” Jaemin sighs, tapping him at the back before leaving with Jeno, but not without making small talk with Mark by the door. Donghyuck walks over, accepting and falling into Mark’s arms as he pull him into a hug.

“Come with me?” he asks. It’s not like Donghyuck refuses anyway.

“What are you doing?” he asks as Mark skips ahead of him, going to the direction of their house. “Are you sleeping over again?” he pretends to be annoyed. “I’m sick of your face.”

“I’m sick of your face, too.” Mark smiles, quickly running over to the bus stop, urging him to run quickly as the bus slows to a stop.

“Did you tell your Mom?” he asks as soon as he sits down beside him, making Mark laugh. Why does he really have to ask? Mark always does, and it’s not like he doesn’t stay over 3 times a week. If he isn’t home by 8 and it’s not basketball season, he’s almost surely with Donghyuck, his mom had stopped worrying years ago.

The sun was starting to set when they arrived at their stop, as Mark pulls him along. “What is up with you.” He suddenly gets an idea. “Is this a surprise birthday party?”

“What? No.” Mark denies. “Your birthday is tomorrow.”

“To surprise me more?” he offers, making Mark scoff.

“No, I’m celebrating something else with you.” He searches his brain for anything that they can celebrate that day but he couldn’t come up with anything. They were a one block away from Donghyuck’s house and on the street where Mark and his family’s old apartment building was located. Suddenly, Mark slows down by the park. He goes ahead to sit on one of the swings, patting the other one, inviting him to sit beside him. As soon as Donghyuck sits with him, he takes his bag and opens it to take out a small plastic bag which had two ice cream pops in it.

“What?” Donghyuck can’t help but chuckle. Did he have that inside his bag the entire time?

“I was rushing you because they might melt.” He tries to squeeze one of the pops. “They do still seem to be partially solid.” He observes as he hands the green melon flavored one, as he takes the red watermelon flavored one for himself.

Donghyuck accepts quietly, trying to gauge Mark’s actions. Out of the both of them, Donghyuck has always been the spontaneous, affectionate one—and he wonders if Mark might have found out, and is doing this out of pity.

“Don’t you remember?” the other asks, interrupting his train of thought. “I’m disappointed.” He pouts, biting on his iced lollipop, knowing that it bothered Donghyuck.

“What?” he demands.

“Happy 10^th year!” he suddenly cheers, surprising the two teenaged boys preparing to go home by other edge of the park. They both apologize, bowing quickly before turning their attentions back to each other. “What do you mean?”

“10 years ago, a day before your 7^th birthday, you were playing here with your sister. I was sitting in this swing,” he motions to the swing he currently was sitting on. “And you were sitting there while your sister pushed the swing.” He explains. “I was holding an iced lollipop of this exact flavor and brand and I accidentally dropped it.”

The memory suddenly flashes before him, of Mark and his tiny feet, not even showing signs that he would grow as tall as he was now. He smiles. “I started crying quietly just as your mom arrived with one iced lollipop for you and your sister each.”

“Mom didn’t notice you crying but I did.” He chuckles, taking the iced pop into his mouth.

“Yeah, so you came over to me and gave me yours.” Mark nods. “Ever since then watermelon had become my favorite.” He looks over at the Donghyuck. “It reminds me of you.”

-

I had to extend this one to another chapter because the next part is probably going to be long~
This is still unedited so please forgive any grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.
Thank you!
Enjoy reading!