When Eunji coughs the first few flower petals, the world stops. 

It’s just another morning before class, running around because she slept through her alarm again, when she feels the need to cough. She coughs a little but keeps moving. She can’t afford to be late to this class again or else it’ll affect her grade. She finishes getting dressed, but it’s when she’s grabbing coffee in her kitchen that she stumbles to the sink coughing harder than before.

Her mug slips from her grasp and shatters as it hits the ground, but Eunji barely registers that. Instead, she stares at the soft, pink petals plastered against the palm of her hand. 

Just like that, Eunij’s world collapses in itself.

When Eunji was twelve, she came home from school one day to find her mom coughing up flower petals. She remembers dropping her school bag and rushing to her mom’s side, holding her as she shook and coughed. Eunji didn’t know what was happening. All she knew was that it was bad. It was something that made her heart jump and her skin sweat. She demanded her mom go see a doctor immediately, tugging her towards the door.

Her mom had paled. Fear had taken over her features, but Eunji couldn’t understand it at the time. She didn’t know why her mom looked so afraid. She tried to tell her mom she’d be okay as soon as a doctor saw her. Her mom shook her head and told Eunji she wouldn’t be seeing a doctor. Then, she made Eunji promise not to tell her dad what she’d seen. When Eunji hesitated, her mom held her wrist so tightly it had bruised. 

Eunji promised not to tell.

Eunji said nothing, silently watching as her mom’s coughing got worse and worse. She still didn’t know what was happening, but she watched.

That is until she came home from school to find her mom, unconscious on the ground. It was then that she forgot all about her promise. All she could think about was her mom, whether she was alive. Eunji remembers dialing 911 with trembling fingers and prying flower petals from her mom’s mouth and throat, as far back as her tiny fingers could reach. 

What Eunji will never forget about the day is the harsh slap her dad gave her when he walked into the waiting room, the bruises he left on her arms as he shook her. Eunji thinks that’s the angriest she’s ever seen her dad. 

After yelling at her, Eunji and her dad went back to see her mom, and it was there that Eunji found out the truth about her mom’s sickness. She loved another man. She loved someone who wasn’t her father, someone who didn’t love her back. This was the price she had to pay for it. Eunji understood but didn’t at the same time. She shrank back, silently crying as her parents fought over what to do. Her mom didn’t want to get treated because it meant she would lose her feelings for the other man. Her dad insisted she get treated for that exact reason. They argued and argued and argued and then…

Her mom had looked at her and her tear-stained cheeks, and something inside her broke. 

Eunji was dismissed from the room, and she never found out what was said in her absence. All she knows is that the next day, her mom got the surgery. She healed. She came home from the hospital, and it was almost like nothing happened. She was happy again.

Except, sometimes Eunji would walk by her and see her staring off into space with tears falling down her cheeks. Every time Eunji asked her what was wrong though, her mom would give a watery laugh and wipe her tears away, saying, “That’s so strange. I have no idea why I’m crying. I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.”

Eunji remembers this from her childhood viscerally, so to see those same flower petals sitting so innocently against her hand makes Eunji sick. She barely makes it to the bathroom before she’s throwing up. It’s not flower petals, not yet. It’s normal vomit, but it hardly helps knowing that. It doesn’t make the other sickness go away. 

With class as the last thing on her mind, Eunji curls up on her bathroom floor after throwing up and thinks about calling her mom. Not because she really remembers anything about her incident when Eunji was twelve, but because Eunji doesn’t really want to think. Eunji’s mom is often not all there when you talk to her, and that’s exactly what Eunji thinks she needs right now.

So, after she lays on the bathroom floor for a few hours, she drags herself onto her feet and dials her phone. She makes it to her bed this time before she collapses again, and when her mom picks up on the third ring, Eunji says, “Tell me about something.”

Eunji spends almost the entire day on the phone with her mom, letting her mom’s nonsensical rambling soothe her the way it always has. She’s always found comfort in the small things, the strange things. Not everything fell perfectly back into place after the incident. Eunji stays on the phone with her mom until almost five in the evening. She would’ve talked to her until she fell asleep, but she hears her dad on the other side, asking her mom to stop talking and start dinner.

Eunji’s mom doesn’t mention it’s his daughter she is talking to. She merely hums her agreement and tells Eunji she’ll talk to her soon. She hangs up before Eunji can say the same. 

Tossing her phone aside, Eunji buries her face into her pillow and feels her stomach growl in protest. Right, she hasn’t had lunch. She didn’t even have breakfast. The world is still spinning. Somehow.

Eunji gets up and walks to the kitchen with uneasy steps. She glances at the cold coffee and broken ceramic then keeps moving. She can deal with that tomorrow. She trudges over to her fridge, hoping for dinner, but instead, a cold emptiness greets her. Eunji glares at the foodless shelves and tries to ignore how this lacking seems to apply to more than just her food.

Whatever. She’s a grown woman. She can go buy herself some food, so she doesn’t starve to death. No, she thinks darkly, it’ll be something else that ends her life. She huffs at herself for having those thoughts and shakes her head. Grabbing her car keys, she heads to the nearest grocery store to load up on food. She isn’t sure when’s the next time she’ll manage to leave her apartment. 

It’s a miracle she makes it to the grocery store without crashing because her mind is nowhere near focused on driving. It’s still playing back this morning, those petals that Eunji had crushed and thrown away. Sometimes, if Eunji thinks too hard, she can feel them crawling up .

When Eunji walks into the store, she grabs a cart and makes quick work of grabbing everything she needs. She doesn’t want to spend any more time than what’s necessary to grab her food. She just needs the necessities as she tries to pull herself together over the next few days. 

“Eunji!”

It’s the voice that makes the heart in Eunji’s chest feel like it might burst. She stops walking, her cart coming to a creaky halt. She doesn’t turn to look though, like seeing her will make it too late to turn back, even though Eunji knows she’s already in too deep. She doesn’t have to move to see her though.

Chorong pops up by her side, grinning brightly as she loops her arm through Eunji’s.

“I thought it was you,” Chorong tells her with a warm smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Eunji replies quietly. Her head is spinning, and her chest feels tight. She feels like she might pass out at any moment. “Come here often?”

Chorong giggles and bumps shoulders with her. “Oh, you know, just about every time Bomi eats all our food.”

Eunji forces a smile, “Naturally.”

The good humor fades into worry as Chorong gets a better look at her. “You look tired,” Chorong murmurs. Her hand comes up to Eunji’s face, and Eunji can’t help but flinch minutely at the touch. Chorong notices, eyebrows scrunching together in worry. “Are you okay? Bomi said you skipped class today.”

“Yeah, just not feeling well,” Eunji says. It’s not a lie. Eunji really does feel like she might die right now.

“You should be resting then,” Chorong scolds her, immediately pressing a hand against her forehead to check her temperature. She frowns and holds Eunji’s face, thumb brushing against her cheek. “What are you doing out?”

Eunji pulls her face away from Chorong’s grasp and gestures down at her cart. “I didn’t have anything at home,” Eunji explains. “I’m just here for a quick trip then going straight back home. Promise.”

“Will you be okay? You live alone,” Chorong points out. She frowns then says determinedly, “Here, let me drop off this stuff at home then I’ll come over.”
 

“No,” Eunji says too sharply. At Chorong’s surprised look, she closes her eyes and sighs. She has to keep her cool. She can’t let Chorong know what’s going on. “No,” Eunji repeats softer this time, opening her eyes. She tries to smile as she says, “I’ll be fine, really. I think I just need some rest.”

Chorong doesn’t look convinced, but she nods. “Okay. If you’re sure. Can I at least walk you out to your car?”

“I’m not an invalid,” Eunji says as she starts pushing her cart again.

Chorong rolls her eyes as she swings her basket, walking with her, “Humor me.”

And Eunji does. She lets Chorong keep her company as she finishes grabbing the rest of her food, smiling at the snide comments Chorong makes about her eating habits. She even lets Chorong toss in a couple of cans of soup and some vegetables. For a moment, Eunji lets herself fall back into this easy normalcy with Chorong. She lets herself smile and touch Chorong’s arm as she talks. 

“Text me tomorrow,” Chorong tells her as they stop in front of Eunji’s car. She watches Eunji put up her bags and says, “I mean it. I need to know you’re okay.”

Eunji shuts her trunk, and her lips twist into a pained smile. “Sure, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Chorong asks, and she holds out her pinky finger to her.

“Promise,” Eunji says, curling her pinky around hers. She drops her hand to get into her car when Chorong is suddenly there, wrapping her arms around her in a warm hug. After a moment of hesitation, Eunji hugs her back. As she does, that tight feeling in her chest comes back. When Chorong pulls away, Eunji jokes weakly, “I’m going to get you sick.” As if what’s affecting Eunji could ever hurt Chorong.

“I have a strong immune system,” Chorong replies. She smiles and says, “Drive safe, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eunji does drive safely, but halfway home, she has to pull over. She hunches over the steering wheel as coughs wrack her body, cursing herself over and over. It’s only a minute or two, but when Eunji pulls her hands away, the same pink petals cover them. Just a few, for now. It makes Eunji open up her car door and throw up on the side of the road.

She’s ed. 

So naturally, Eunji tries to avoid Chorong. She really does. It’s just hard when the two of them have been more or less joined at the hip for the last two years and she’s best friends with her roommate. It’s not like she can just fall off the face of the Earth without any questions asked. She only missed one day of classes, and Chorong was already on her case. 

There’s really no way for Eunji to avoid her, but she’ll just try her best. Eunji just tells herself this will pass. She’ll get over her feelings. She’s not going to ruin their friendship like this. It’s going to be fine.

It’s not fine.

Eunji just gets worse. The coughs become more frequent, and although there aren’t always petals accompanying them, there is sometimes blood now. The sickness makes Eunji tired too. She isn’t sure if it’s actually the disease that makes it feel like her limbs are moving through molasses or if it’s just her own mental exhaustion, but either way, Eunji finds it harder and harder to get up every morning.

“Dude, go see a doctor,” Bomi tells her when she’s over one afternoon. The two of them have spent most of the day sprawled out on the couch, watching movies, because Eunji hadn’t had the energy to do anything else.

It’s been about three weeks since Eunji coughed up the first petals, and since then, Eunji has asked Bomi to come over to her apartment more often than going over there in an effort to minimize spending time with Chorong. She knows Bomi must find it strange, but she hasn’t asked yet, and Eunji isn’t going to be the one to bring it up first. 

“I’m serious,” Bomi says. She reaches over and presses her hand to Eunji’s forehead. “You look like .”

“It’s just a cold,” Eunji tries to say.

“A cold that you’ve had for almost a month?” Bomi scoffs. “Try again.”

Eunji pushes her hand off her forehead and sighs. Even though Bomi is her best friend, she still can’t bring herself to tell her about her illness. It wouldn’t be fair to dump this information on her, especially when she is friends with and lives with Chorong. 

“I promise I’ll be fine,” Eunji says. Another lie, but what else can she say? The words leave a bitter taste in , far different than the cloying perfume from the petals that clings to her tongue. “I’ve just been stressed… from school. Finals are coming soon, you know?”

Bomi still doesn’t look like she believes her, eyebrows knitted together and lips pursed, but she lets the subject drop. Instead, she asks Eunji what she’s doing for the holidays. She mentions how Chorong is throwing some kind of Christmas party before everyone goes back home, and just the mere mention of Chorong makes it feel like someone’s closed their hand around her lungs. She manages to get away with merely clearing and a few feeble coughs, but the tightness in her chest remains for the rest of Bomi’s visit.

When Bomi leaves for the night, with a playful threat to feed Eunji some poorly made soup if she doesn’t get some rest and get better, Eunji can’t stop the sigh of relief as she shuts the door behind her. She rests her forehead against the door and feels a nausea that has nothing to do with her illness. At least, not directly. It’s just getting harder and harder to keep her secret.

It’s barely eight, but Eunji decides that she’ll shower then just go straight to bed. Now alone, she feels the exhaustion at keeping her coughs at bay. 

While showering, Eunji coughs up another handful of petals. They mix with the hot water and steam, intensifying the smell to the point that Eunji has to fumble her way out of the shower to throw up in the toilet. Just the smell of flowers is enough to set off Eunji at this point. 

Eunji cleans up the petals and finishes her shower, just as she hears her phone ringing. With a frown, Eunji shrugs on her pajamas and checks who it is. Chorong. As she pads back out into the kitchen, she contemplates letting it go to voicemail. She almost does, but it’s been almost two weeks since she’s heard Chorong’s voice and she caves.

“Hey,” Eunji says.

“Hey, yourself. Mind answering your front door?”

Eunji freezes. “My what?”

“Your front door. Hurry up. It’s really windy today.”

Eunji’s feet move on autopilot to the door, her mind in a frenzy as it processes the fact that Chorong is here. Despite knowing this, Eunji still feels surprised when she opens the door, and Chorong is on the other side. It looks like she’s also dressed for bed with fuzzy, pink pants and a faded sweatshirt with her high school’s logo. Eunji can’t help the smile that creeps onto her face at the sight.

“Finally!” Chorong says with a smile. She slips inside of Eunji’s apartment, poking Eunji’s side as she does. Chorong takes in Eunji’s wet hair then says, “Oh, sorry. Were you in the shower?”

“Yeah,” Eunji says, absently reaching up to feel where the water is gathering at the tips of her hair. “I just got out when I got your call.”

“Sorry,” Chorong says again, her smile sheepish this time. “I was just worried about you.”

A streak of panic shoots through Eunji as she asks as calmly as she can, “Why were you worried?”

“Bomi said you were still sick,” Chorong explains. She steps closer, and Eunji immediately stiffens at the movement. Chorong doesn’t seem to notice though as she gently places her hand on Eunji’s forehead. “Hmm, you’re not any warmer than normal. Have you had any other symptoms?”

After a moment of hesitation, Eunji says, “Coughing and nausea.”

“Are you sure it’s just a cold?” Chorong asks. With a hand on Eunji’s arm, she guides the two of them into the kitchen. Chorong navigates Eunji’s space as well as her own, finding the kettle, mugs, and tea on her first tries. It makes Eunji feel warm yet sick all over. “Here,” Chorong says, placing a steaming mug in front of her ten minutes later.

“Thanks,” Eunji says. She wraps her fingers around the mug and savors the warmth coming from it. She takes a small sip then stares at Chorong over the rim. “So, did you just come over to make sure I’m not dead?”

Chorong rolls her eyes, but she says, “Yeah, well, Bomi wouldn’t shut up about how worried she was about you.” The smile freezes on Eunji’s face, hiding the stab of hurt she feels. Chorong seems to sense it anyways though, and she reaches across the counter to cover Eunji’s hand with her own. “Hey, I was kidding. I was worried too,” Chorong tells her. She closes her hand over Eunji’s. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Staring at Chorong, Eunji finds herself remembering the first time they met. It had been years ago, and Eunji had let herself into Bomi’s apartment with a spare key. The plan was for Eunji to pack Bomi’s overnight bag for her while she was still in class, so the two of them could head out on their road trip as soon as Bomi was done. What Bomi failed to mention was her roommate who was home at the time.

Eunji smiles at the memory of Chorong threatening her with a hair brush and demanding to know who she was. After almost twenty minutes of arguing back and forth, Eunji finally had enough sense to call Bomi to prove that she was supposed to be there. 

It hadn’t been the best first impression, but Eunji grew on Chorong (or she wore her down, if you ask Chorong). It hadn’t been hard to fall for the other woman, to care for her, to always want to make sure she was happy.

Just as Eunji’s smile starts to grow, she feels the familiar tingle at the back of . Fear crawls up her spine at the sensation. No, not now. Not in front of Chorong. Eunji tries to hold back her cough, clearing , but it's not enough. Standing, Eunji hunches over her counter as the coughs force their way through her. She’s dimly aware of the fact that her sudden movement has knocked her mug to the floor, but she’s more preoccupied with the painful heaving.

Closing her eyes, Eunji feels tears fall from the corners of her eyes. She knows what’s going to happen. In a horrifying wad, a stream of pinkish petals drop from . Eunji is almost wheezing, and her vision is blurry as she opens her eyes again. Eunji can’t bring herself to look away from the wet pile of petals, reeking of its pungent floral scent. She refuses to see the realization on Chorong’s face, the disgust as the pieces come together in her mind. 

“Eunji…”

Chorong’s hand brushes against her shoulder, and the touch makes Eunji jerk away. She stumbles into the other side of the counter. The edge digs into her side with how much she crowds against it, but Eunji doesn’t even notice. She just needs to get away. She can already feel the need to cough crawling up . 

“You’re sick.”

Eunji jerks her head up at Chorong’s voice. She doesn’t sound mad or disgusted, just in shock. Lightheaded, it takes her a moment to focus on Chorong. She’s staring at Eunji in a strange mix of confusion and worry. Does she really not understand?

“Who is this…” Chorong trails off, eyes going between Eunji and the petals. “Who’s making you sick?”

Eunji can’t stop the incredulous laugh that leaves her lips. She presses her palm to her forehead, trying to will her headache away. It only worsens. Eunji looks back up at Chorong, who only stares back blankly.

“For ’s sake,” Eunji says with a humorless smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s you, Chorong.”

Just ten minutes ago, admitting that would have sent Eunji into a frenzied panic, but feels raw and her head feels like it’s about to split open, and Eunji is just tired of hiding it. She’s so tired. Who knows, maybe saying it out loud will lessen her symptoms, even if it’s just for a little bit.

“Me?” Chorong says faintly. “You mean you…” Her gaze goes back to the petals, and her face pales. “Eunji, I…” She never finishes her sentence. Instead, she looks at Eunji helplessly before shaking her head. Chorong doesn’t even bother saying good-bye before she runs out of the apartment.

Eunji watches her go and doesn’t lift a hand to stop her.

When the door slams shut, Eunji barely has enough time to get to the sink before she goes into her next coughing fit. This one is worse than before, and for a moment, Eunji can’t breathe. She claws at and sees black spots in the corners of her vision. With one last, vicious cough, Eunji gasps as she can breathe again. Her fingers curl tightly around the edges of the sink as her eyes take in the sight of a fully bloomed rose sitting in her sink.

As soon as it processes for her, Eunji feels her knees buckle. If she hadn’t already been holding the sink, she would have collapsed right there. Eunji manages to lower herself to the floor instead, resting against the cupboard.

God, she’s really ed now.

For a brief moment, she considers calling Bomi, but the thought of having to explain everything makes her dismiss the thought.

Eunji stays on the floor for what might have been minutes or hours. She isn’t really sure, and she doesn’t really care. She has scared off the woman she loves, and now she’s alone on the floor of her kitchen. It doesn’t really get tier than that.

At some point, she must have closed her eyes, or else she would have noticed someone entering her apartment before they spoke.

“You should really lock your door.”

Eunji doesn’t even have the energy to jump at the sound of Chorong’s voice. She just presses a hand to her chest, rubbing it in an effort to lessen the tension there. She looks up at Chorong with half-lidded eyes then says, “Didn’t think you cared.”

“Of course I care!” Chorong snaps, and Eunji doesn’t know what to do with the hurt in her voice. Chorong continues, more softly, “Why didn’t you lock the door? It isn’t safe.”

So, Eunji just shrugs. She listlessly waves a hand at the disarray her kitchen was left in and says, “I was kind of too busy to remember to lock the door.” Guilt passes over Chorong’s face before she sighs and kneels down in front of Eunji. There’s an urge to shove her away, but there’s also the much stronger desire to keep her close despite everything. “Why are you back, Chorong? Come to end things properly?” Eunji asks. She looks past Chorong’s head and squints, managing to make out the clock on her stove. “Only took you four hours.”

Chorong hesitates before settling herself more comfortably on the floor. She leans in and asks, “Do you remember the first time we decided to hang out, just the two of us?” It’s not what Eunji expects at all, so she merely stares back. Chorong smiles awkwardly and says, “I was hesitant because you could be such a jerk when you wanted to be. I swear, the second you knew how to push my buttons, you made sure to do it all the time.” This gets a small smile out of both of them. “You insisted on taking me to the outdoor skating rink, and I was convinced you took me there just to watch kids skate laps around me. Instead, you were the one who kept falling, and I remember laughing so hard because you always looked so annoyed, like you couldn’t understand why you were so bad at it.” 

Chorong’s smile grows at this, and Eunji easily recalls her frustration and embarrassment that night. She had wanted to show off a bit to Chorong and instead made a complete idiot out of herself. Chorong shakes her head slightly then says, “Eventually, we decided to call it a night, and we bought hot chocolate from a nearby vendor and walked around the park. You told me about how you used to come out here all the time as a kid with your family, but you hadn’t been able to do that since starting college.” It’s then that Chorong carefully reaches out and covers Eunji’s hand with her own, just like she had earlier. “It was then that I realized what you were sharing with me, and I wanted to… I don’t know what I wanted to do, but then you stopped us and brushed a snowflake off my eyelash, and Eunji, you have no idea how much I think about that moment. I think I wanted to live in that moment forever.”

Eunji can’t tear her eyes away from their joined hands. Her voice is small and hoarse as she asks, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” Chorong says, and suddenly, her other hand is cupping Eunji’s face. For the first time in weeks, Eunji can’t breathe for a reason that has nothing to do with the flowers blooming in her chest. “Because I love you, Eunji. I’m in love with you.”

“You can’t just say that to make me feel better,” Eunji tells her, stilted and awkward as she tries not to cry. She wants to pull away but can’t bring herself to leave Chorong’s touch. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” Chorong says. She bites her lip then says, “I know it seems like I am, but I’m not.”

Eunji doesn’t bother to keep the hurt out of her voice as she says, “You ran away.”

“I know,” Chorong says. Her thumb Eunji’s cheek as she ducks her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left, but I was just overwhelmed.” Chorong looks back up, and Eunji feels her jaw drop at the sight of tears in her eyes. “I was so afraid, Eunji. I think… I think I’ve loved you for a long time, but I just didn’t let myself really feel it because I didn’t think you would love me back.”

“You love me,” Eunji says breathlessly. Her eyes flutter shut as Chorong leans in and rests her forehead against hers. She opens them again and whispers, “Is this really happening?”

“It is,” Chorong says. She rests her other hand over Eunji’s heart and smiles. “You’re going to be okay, Eunji.”

When Chorong leans in to kiss her, it’s almost like Eunji can feel her lungs heal. It’s going to be okay.

a/n: i apologize for any grammar mistakes and if the ending seems rushed. christmas came a lot faster than i anticipated! still, i hope you enjoyed!