Their next comeback is coming soon. 

Seulgi wonders if she will be able to hide it then, or even hide it till then. If the company finds out about their, situation, their first move would definitely be to send them both for surgery. 

The simple thought of not loving Seungwan, and forcibly so, causes a wave of pain to ring through her chest. The surgery would mean forgetting loving Seungwan, forgetting how to love Seungwan. Her best friend. They do everything together. Seungwan is everything. Seulgi wonders if Seungwan will be able to notice a change in her after the surgery, wonders if this option that her company chooses will bring her a death in a life without her love for Seungwan. 

The petals that claw up feels more like whole flowers lately. 

“I,” she chokes out. “Seungwan…”

Sticky fingers pry open and suddenly Joohyun is everywhere. Urgent and frantic and a heavy presence beside her swimming consciousness. “Seulgi, you need to get them out,” she hears. “Seulgi!”

She can’t breathe. 

Petals blue as the sky fall and fall and yet she still can’t breathe. 

-

“Seulgi look!” Seungwan is extraordinarily bright today, the sun in the vocalist’s smile makes the sky in her chest rumble. “Seul!”

feels scratchy, heavy, as something begins to crawl up. 

Seungwan s a phone in her face, the bright light blinding her for a moment. “I found your old interview where you talked about us.” 

“I’m always talking about Red Velvet, Wan-ah,” she jokes. “Which interview are you talking about?”

She blinks, and Seungwan is peering over the phone, big eyes glittery and pouty. 

“You’re not paying attention!”

She fights the urge to reach over and pinch those fluffy cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she says. “Wait up, let me read i-“ The phone gets pulled away even before her eyes can begin to focus on the words. 

“No, wait!” Seungwan’s teeth are so white. Her lips so pink. “Let’s watch the interview together!”

She thinks god is mocking her in this very moment. Seungwan is practically in her lap, squished closed and smelling like summer showers. 

And the interview they are watching, is about Seulgi describing her members as flowers. 

“Do you really think I’m clean and pure?” Seungwan asks. Her voice is small, timid. She doesn’t like the way Seungwan sounds so insecure; it gnaws at her, picking away until it reaches the root of her flower. 

“Of course, Wannie.” 

“Hydrangeas are awfully pretty though. Did you know they change colours because of the acidity?”

Maybe that’ll explain why her tongue feels spongy and sour now. “Wow, I didn’t know that.” 

“Yea!” Seungwan chirps, her smile is dazzling and beautiful and the familiar flash of pain sears through her chest again, reaching up to prick at the back of . “They do look really pretty though.”

Seungwan’s eyelashes flutter when she blinks, briefly hiding the galaxies in her eyes.

She swallows, blue flashes across her eyes when she closes them. Warm liquid pools at , and when she swallows, she ignores the scratchy pain of the stems. 

“Really, really pretty.” 

-

Yerim had returned to the dorm, but has immediately gone away on a trip with her friends, and Sooyoung has rushed home again to spend as much time as she can with Haetnim before hiatus ends. 

She sees Seungwan and Joohyun in the kitchen often, cooking, chatting. It’s a thing they enjoy doing together. 

And during those times, Seulgi tries not to interrupt. She sees the way Seungwan is around Joohyun too, careful, almost reverent. At night, she hopes and begs for Seungwan to fall for Joohyun, because their leader is so extraordinary and amazing and selfless and she doesn’t deserve an inch of pain. 

They giggle, quiet in the morning light, and Seulgi feels as though she can paint a picture of a thousand suns with the breath from her lungs.

Even if it hurts like hell.

The petals that come out are probably going to get less bloody anyway, Seulgi thinks to herself, the roots may finally embed properly and not tear out half her organs while growing. She can live with this pain. She can’t live with desperately trying to calm Joohyun from retching into the toilet every day, distressed and excruciating. 

-

Joohyun does end up bringing Seungwan to that clearing on a camping trip. 

Just the both of them 

Because Seulgi doesn’t want to intrude. 

They deserve some time together - she remembers the way Joohyun used to cling on to Seungwan. Times were simpler then, happier. 

The both of them return to the dorm the night after, a little dusty and starstruck, and she makes them both hot chocolate to warm up while they catch her up on the camping trip.

They sit at the dining table, and it feels like before - the both of them, Joohyun and her, listening attentively to Seungwan tell her stories. 

The hot chocolate grows cold before any of them realise that they’ve been laughing and chatting way more than they were drinking. 

Seungwan brings her cold chocolate in closer, squinting.  “The chocolate’s gone all clumpy,” she whines. “How did you even make the hot chocolate?”

Seulgi splutters. “What do you mean! I used actual chocolate bits - they say it makes your hot chocolate richer.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” 

She shrugs. “I don’t know, chocolate experts who make rich hot chocolate.”

Seungwan frowns at her, one part annoyed and ten parts adorable. Her lips twitch slightly though, and she knows Seungwan isn’t truly mad. “Well, the rich hot chocolate is cold and clumpy. Tell that to your chocolate experts.” 

Okay, she may have broken too many pieces of expensive European chocolate into the simmering milk before, but to be fair they were meant to drink the hot chocolate hot. Emphasis on the hot. How would she have known that it would cool into a clump?

“Unnie, tell Seungwan that the hot chocolate’s nice.” She tries her best shot at puppy eyes (even though Seulgi knows that their puppy eyes are way cuter.)

Joohyun, though, to Seulgi’s betrayal, stares right into her eyes, and turns her mug upside down. 

Nothing pours out. 

“Seul, your hot chocolate’s a clump.”

-

She’s somehow roped into cuddling with Seungwan again, and even though the weather’s getting warmer, this morning the air feels particularly biting. 

She wakes up to an armful of Seungwan. And Seulgi knows that Seungwan is awake - she feels the gentle sensation of Seungwan’s finger tracing imaginary words on her collarbone. It’s a peaceful morning, neither of them saying anything, the early morning sun shimmering from behind her curtains. 

It feels like winter again, back before they shifted and got separate bedrooms. And somehow she feels like coughing less this morning. 

She shifts slightly, peeking down at Seungwan lying on her, contemplative, pearly whites tugging on pink lips, when suddenly her whole world begins spinning. Her chest feels like something dying. In the most pleasant of ways. Her heart is racing racing and her chest feels like its collapsing but for the first time in a long while she feels like she can breathe. 

It’s a strange sensation and she doesn’t know if good or not.

Seungwan draws out from her embrace, stumbling out of their room, saying that she has an appointment to get to. She hums a reply when Seungwan says her goodbye from the door. 

And she is too confused by what’s happening to her to notice the way Seungwan’s cheeks are flushed, eyes wide with anxiety, or that Seungwan specifically said the night before that she had no appointments that day. 

She curls in on herself, tries an experimental cough; and it kickstarts a medley of coughs and retching. burns. Yet somehow she thinks she’s breathing a little easier.

The petals that fall out are turning yellow and drying, and they look like the beginning of winter.

Oh.

Her flowers are dying. That’s strange.

She’s clearing her flowers. 

-

It’s barely morning. Seulgi herself is barely awake, questioning the consciousness as she squints into her phone. 

It’s five. 

Even though her blinds are not open, she knows the outside is awashed still, in nighttime. 

She hears a faint retching, ears in tuned and sensitive, and knows exactly why she’s been awaken. Immediately, she stumbles out of bed and straight into Joohyun’s bedroom, bold in a way that only her drowsiness and anxiety can provide. 

She runs her hand down Joohyun’s back - she is topless, because blood stains, and they both know from experience that dealing with the viscous red that blooms on the cloth is not fun. She tries to keep Joohyun’s hair from sticking to her face, gentle fingers carding through hair and pulling them back. 

Blue is beginning to vine along Joohyun’s collarbones, and Seulgi is sure if she bothers looking, that it’ll be the same for her too. The bathroom light feels extremely harsh, as the both of them stay leaning against the toilet bowl. 

Joohyun still looks so darn pretty, blood smeared across her lips, tear stains drying on her cheeks. 

It begins to feel like guilt. And love. 

-

Joohyun winds her way into her room one night, sweatshirt and sweatpants matching, complaining about the cold weather even though Seulgi’s melting in just a t-shirt. They settle, shoulder to shoulder, side by side, Joohyun reading a book while she zones out trying to organise her photo collection.

Seulgi wonders if Joohyun feels the shift in their dynamic as much as she does. Joohyun tilts her head slightly, half buried in the blanket, and looks at her with the softest eyes, and flowers bloom in her chest. She leans her head against Joohyun’s shoulder to get her to look down again, but Joohyun simply hums and nudges her a little, focused back on her book. Joohyun smells good - she always does; with her special concoction of fabric softener and other wonderful stuff. She can’t decipher what exactly Joohyun smells like (and honestly she has no idea how books manage to describe scents so specifically when all Seulgi can come up with is that Joohyun smells clean and sweet and lovely.)

She wants to bury her face against Joohyun’s neck and breathe, but everything is very confusing for her right now and so she settles for tracing her fingers along the inside of Joohyun’s elbow. Careful and reverent and there’s no point pretending that she’s not enamoured. 

She wants this. Wants Joohyun, and she’s so confused because her flowers are clearing but she’s so sure she still wants Seungwan too. She loves Seungwan still. Wants Seungwan still. She loves them both, Seulgi’s sure of that. 

Joohyun turns, nose scrunched up when she realises that Seulgi’s staring way too closely at her. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer, not yet. Sits up straighter, just a little, so she can study Joohyun’s profile a little better; it feels like a goodbye, maybe, from the soft pout of her lips, blushing cheeks, the perfect line of her neck, the slope of her nose. 

“Seul?” Her eyes flick down to Seulgi’s lips, heart pounding and racing and they both know that everything’s different. 

A blink. 

She can almost feel her lips, ghosting across. 

Seulgi runs her fingers, trails them down to the inside of Joohyun’s wrist, and she feels the hitch in Joohyun’s breath. 

She isn’t sure what exactly is going on, raging ache swirling in her heart and there’s just, so much love everywhere. 

-

Dinner on some nights are very simple.

Two packets of ramen for the three of them to share, and Seungwan’s massive collection of fruits. 

Tonight, Joohyun offers to wash the dishes, already stacking the bowls to bring to the sink when Seungwan pops up from behind her to give her the biggest hug. A spoon clatters back onto the table in Joohyun’s shock, and Seulgi does not miss the reddening at the tips of Joohyun’s ears. 

“Experts say hugging helps us stay happy,” Seungwan says. “Don’t worry 

Seul, you’ll get your hug too.” 

“Get your hug on, Wan-ah, I’ll just be here digesting.” 

She watches them edge towards the sink. Joohyun somehow managing to balance all the dishes as they penguin shuffle together. 

She watches them, with sunsets in her heart, content smiles on their faces, and realises that , she wants to live for them, wants to wind the roots of her flowers along her ribs instead and fuse them into her lungs and breathe for them both. 

Seulgi blinks, and realises that maybe she just wants them both to run their fingers through her hair until she falls asleep and maybe its so soft and yucky and utterly domestic, but oh my god she loves them both. 

Seungwan trots over halfway through Joohyun’s washing and her own musing, drapes herself onto Seulgi from behind, and breathes, head flopped over her shoulder. She reaches up to scratch gently at the back of Seungwan’s head, and feels her melt completely, boneless and happy. 

She doesn’t miss Joohyun’s careful hands when she tosses the food scraps casually with a pile of bloody petals into the trash.

-

Lately, it feels like Joohyun has been avoiding Seungwan, or her, or the both of them. 

It started off simple, their leader spending more time in her bedroom - something that already had been happening, and something Seulgi could brush off. But now, now, she can feel the actual avoidance. Enough is enough, and she hates to admit it, but she misses the nights when the older member would wind her arms around her waist and hold her tight enough they both forget the pain in their chests. 

She convinces herself that everything is going to be fine, marching to Joohyun’s room, and sizes up the door like it’s a mountain she has to scale. 

It probably is. 

A mountain of issues that they have to work out. 

The house is empty again, silence raging on. Seulgi doesn’t knock, hand half-raised, questioning. She lets it slide down the wood instead, gripping tightly at the door knob before sighing and letting go. She leans against the door, heavy and tired, and slides down onto the floor. 

“Unnie,” she calls out, lets her voice ring out and echo across the hallway. She knows Joohyun hears her. “We need to talk.”

“You have to confess, Seulgi-ah.”

There are petals, stems, flower buds littered across Joohyun’s room floor, and the smell is sickening, metallic and sweet and it grates at Seulgi. Angers her. Annoys her. Because Joohyun is saying it so confidently, so casually, as if it won’t cause her to suffer, won’t hurt her more. 

She wants to grab at Joohyun, shout and scream and yell. 

“What about you?” Seulgi whispers, and it’s louder than anything else. 

When Joohyun smiles something in Seulgi shatters, shaking her head to indicate that she’ll be fine. “You’re either moving on from Seungwan or she reciprocates your feelings.” She hunches over, coughing and coughing and all Seulgi knows is hurt. “We both know that you still love her.” 

She knows the stems are beginning to scratch at Joohyun’s throat - clots of blood are spilling out, jelly-like and painful. 

Joohyun daintily dabs at her lips with a piece of tissue, smiling so wide and bright as if they both haven’t been crying, as if nothing she says is gut-wrenching. “If you don’t confess,” she says, “Seungwan may start coughing out flowers too.”

And it’s a manipulative, guilt-tripping move, and it’s so ing self-sacrificing that Seulgi gets so angry. Even if she understands her motives - if she found out that Joohyun was clearing her flowers she’d let go. Of the both of them. Even if it kills her. And that’s what terrifies her the most; Joohyun letting go, leaving her, leaving them. 

“You know that’s not how it works, unnie,” she spits out. Rage and desperation coat her words, because why can’t Joohyun see that Seulgi loves them both too ing much to see them suffer. “I love you too,” she says, trying to be gentler this time.

But it’s probably still too harsh for Joohyun, so delicate in this situation. Red paints Joohyun’s cheeks, and she can’t tell if it’s the hurt or anger that causes a fresh wave of tears, but she can’t stay another minute in the room, can’t bear to sit there on Joohyun’s bed and be the source of her love’s pain. 

She rushes out into the cold morning air before a wave of petals has the chance to make an appearance, hiding behind a dumpster at the back of their apartment building to cough out drying petals. 

In the midst of all the blue there is a lone petal of pink. 

They don’t talk for days. If Seungwan notices the awkward tension between the both of them she doesn’t bring it up, instead trying to fill up the silence with mindless chatter. Seulgi thanks her for that — Seungwan just knows when to pry and when to let things be, and that consideration and kindness sends a wave crashing across her heart. 

But it ends days later. Three days, to be exact. Seulgi’s been counting. 

They get ushered into the living, and she tries to ignore how Joohyun chooses to sit on the opposite end of the couch. 

Seungwan is very tightly wound, fidgeting and jittery. Her eyes are swollen, puffy and the edges are a little pink. 

She’s been crying, Seulgi realises. At the back of her mind she thinks that maybe today is the day everything erupts and explodes.

“I have to say something.” Seungwan shudders in a breath, her eyes screwed shut, cheeks bunched up, and it’ll be cute if only Seulgi’s mind wasn’t going a million miles per minute trying to decipher if or how Seungwan’s hurt. 

“I’m,” she croaks out, “I think I’m in love. With the both of you.” Silent tears make their way down Seungwan’s face, and she doesn’t know what to do, watching Seungwan swipe at her cheeks with so much vengeance. “I don’t know how I took so long to realise that. And I’m so sorry if it’s going to make things weird between us but I just wanted to sa-“

In the midst of her crying the most painful sound splits through — Joohyun is collapsed onto the ground, knelt over and coughing and retching and they both fly across the room to help even though Seulgi knows there’s nothing much she can do other than stick her fingers into Joohyun’s mouth to pull out the flowers for her. 

Joohyun does it on her own, sticky fingers curling and she’s gagging as she pries out a whole hydrangea. Its edges are browning, drying even though it’s coated in blood and Seungwan is screaming beside them. 

“Oh my god.” She’s staring at them, tears still streaming down her face, mouth open in shock. Horror passes over her face when Seulgi doubles over and heaves out half a lungful of drying petals. 

“Oh god,” she sniffles. “It’s me. I’m the one who’s been hurting you guys.” Her nose is red and stuffy and somehow she still looks so beautiful.

“You didn’t know,” Joohyun wheezes out. It’s meant to comfort but Seungwan looks even more wrecked. They try to reach for Seungwan to comfort her, and she almost gives in until her eyes drop down and sees the blood on their hands, and jumps back as if burnt. 

“I don’t know how you can still love me, when I did this to you.” 

A strangled sob rips out of Seungwan’s throat, her hands flying up to cover the hiccups that come after. The sound is a knife in Seulgi’s throat, raw and more painful than the roots that threaten to come out, and she trembles along with it. Seungwan is her best friend and somehow she’s managed to hurt her so — even Joohyun too, red splotches across her cheeks and neck in sadness. 

And Seulgi really wants to tell her that it’s okay and that they chose this and it’s not her fault at all but her lungs seem to have a mind of their own, a tornado whirring inside as she coughs and hacks and wheezes out more and more of the dried petals. They’re shrivelled and somehow no longer as bloody and she wonders if she can keep one or two of them to make bookmarks — a strangely painful reminder but it’s still their path and their progress and she wants a physical recollection of it. 

Joohyun leans into her, easing her through the coughing, while Seungwan scuttles back, standing shellshocked because it’s the first time she’s ever seen it and she’s the one causing it. 

“Seungwan...”

“No, I-“ she hiccups, scrabbling back. 

Seungwan doesn’t slam the door when she leaves, just a simple, gentle click of the lock as it slides shut.

She makes to chase after Seungwan, but Joohyun holds her back. 

“She needs time,” Joohyun says. She sounds haggard, is haggard. And the floor is littered with drying petals. 

Seungwan loves them back. She loves them back but she feels like she doesn’t deserve them.

“.” 

Joohyun sighs, already bent over the petals and cleaning. “ indeed.” 

====

this probably , sorry