Archive of Our Own

hanahaki disease

하나하키병

a disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. it ends when the beloved returns their feelings or when the victim dies. it can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear.

❀ ❀ ❀

He gives the small spray bottle a shake once again before spritzing water onto the buttercups on one of the high shelves in the store. A customer favorite. A single shade of yellow and a simple design, yet so elegant. A perfect example of ‘innocence’, Yoongi thinks. Remembering exactly what day of the year buttercups represent. He knows all of them—the scientific names for the flowers, all the dates, the phrases, the colors, the care—everything about flowers you can possibly think of, Min Yoongi knows. That’s why it wasn’t that hard to open up a flower shop in a small corner in Seoul. People pass by every single day, stopping for a while to take a good look at all the flowers on display. There are even buckets outside of the store that have to-go roses, as Yoongi calls them. Just in case someone is running late on a date and needs a little miracle. 

All types of people have inquired in his store. He’s had brides looking for bouquets. Boys about to pick up their prom date and need a corsage. Standing sympathy flowers for funerals. Social media influencers who need to spice up their living room for their instagram posts. Grandparents who need to fill their pots on their windowsill so they don’t get so lonely. Flowers for the sick. Flowers for blind dates. Flowers for anniversaries. Flowers for valentine’s. Flowers for graduations. 

His entire life has been filled with flowers. There are barely any thoughts that aren’t related to flowers. The weekly (messy) planner he uses has schedules for when he needs to make arrangements. He gets calls from suppliers almost every hour. Even when those who enter his store and don’t purchase anything asks him questions. 

And it’s always about the birth flowers. What’s the flower for my birthday? What does it mean? What does it look like? Do you have it in your store? Can you arrange some for me?

It would be hard to admit, but he doesn’t get fed up. Never. He likes them, surprisingly. Tests his knowledge most of the time. Makes him look smart too. The customers always look at him like there’s stars in his eyes and his brain is full of knowledge. It wouldn’t be too long until Yoongi starts spitting out petals. His eyes widen at that. Hope that doesn’t happen any time soon. Who’ll run his shop? Maybe Jungkook would, but he’s just an intern. Who the hell takes an internship at a flower shop, anyway?

Yoongi gets pulled out of his thoughts by the ringing of the bells by the door. He looks up to see who it is, to his surprise, it’s Namjoon.

Namjoon is a regular in Yoongi’s shop. Comes by around three times a week. Always something new in his head. One time, he even asked Yoongi to make him an alpaca figure out of camellias. 

“Why?” was Yoongi’s first words after he made a startup design in his head. 

“Just trust me.” Namjoon reassured him. 

He did. Yoongi had no choice. Namjoon’s the customer and Yoongi’s the florist. Plus, he’s had weirder requests than that. But nothing as consistent as the things Namjoon gives Seokjin, his boyfriend. Yoongi’s been there at the ups and downs of their relationship. Well, not physically there but Namjoon takes the time to hang around the shop even after closing time just to tell Yoongi stories. It’s love. He can’t deny it. It hurts to say, but it is love. Namjoon talks about Seokjin like he’s some sort of god that no other mortal can reach. Of course, Yoongi stops Namjoon before he gets too in-depth in his stories. No point in making him feel jealous. Yoongi’s never been in love ever since his last girlfriend dumped him in sophomore year of college all because their music tastes didn’t match. That was harsh. 

On a more related note, Namjoon doesn’t look quite good on this day. He sulks to the counter, a fresh bouquet in one of his hands and his phone on the other. His shoulders hang way lower than they usually do. When he gets close enough, Yoongi can see the tears on the side of his eyes, and the open messages app on his phone. He’s sent tons of messages to this one person. But Yoongi can’t exactly see—

“Seokjin,” Namjoon sniffs, placing the bouquet on the counter. It looks as good as new. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. Yoongi can’t do anything but watch. “Didn’t like the flowers.”

That’s a lie. Yoongi knows more than that. Seokjin always likes his flowers, even though Yoongi has only seen his face in pictures through Namjoon’s phone. Every time Namjoon returns to the shop, his first words would always be how Seokjin liked whatever flowers Namjoon gave him. In short, Seokjin liked all the flowers. There’s something Namjoon’s not telling him.

Yoongi puts a hand on the bow that holds the stems together. “Why not?” he asks. What kind of excuse will Namjoon make up? Yoongi’s eyes travel to the flowers on the bouquet. Such a shame for it to go to waste. All the main pieces are a purple shade—china asters, coneflowers, cosmos, pansies, and crocuses. Seokjin loves the color purple. 

“Wasn’t his type, I guess.” Namjoon decides to say. He’s lying. Of course he is. He keeps his head low, staring at his feet. His hands are in his pockets. Right now, he doesn’t look like that bubbly, hopeful person Yoongi met over a year ago. Namjoon’s sad. He’s almost never sad. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Yoongi inquires, trying to get Namjoon to look at him. “I think I know Seokjin a little better than that. He likes these flowers.” 

Namjoon looks up. Finally. His eyes are glassy. The bags under them are darker than the black dahlias at the front of the store. “He just doesn’t like them anymore.”

“Them?”

“ Me .”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, letting go of the bouquet. Steady hands hold the edge of the wooden counter. There’s about 40 minutes left before he’ll have to close the shop. “What happened.” He intended it to not sound like a question. He’s not asking Namjoon for what happened. He’s instructing him to tell the story. It hurts Yoongi, too. It’s like all his arrangements for the past year were all for nothing. 

“I told you about Tokyo, right? The teaching job.” Namjoon utters, almost silent. Yes, he’s told Yoongi about it. The Tokyo University of Arts sent Seokjin an invitation 2 weeks ago. They’re asking him to teach film production and media studies for the upcoming academic year. Only the best instructors teach there. Students are sharpened to their finest, being successful seemingly as soon as they graduate. It was the perfect gig for Seokjin. Hell, the biggest film school in Japan—and maybe in Asia—offered him a job. He could definitely use that if he wants to pursue going to the American Film Institute. A big upgrade to his resume.

The big question was: how about Namjoon? The man’s gaze moves to the bouquet once again. The moment he looks at it, he almost tears up again. “He has to leave on Friday if he decides to take the job.”

Yoongi nods, listening intently. Leaving on Friday. Today’s Tuesday. “Has he decided yet?”

“I think so. Well, now he probably has an answer.” Namjoon says. He keeps his eyes on the bouquet. “Told him if he wanted to stay, he could. Be with me. Live in Seoul for the rest of his life. But I also pushed him to take the job. I mean…  Japan’s not that far, right? Around 2 hours only by plane. I could visit him occasionally and he could visit me. Seemed fair.”

“What’s wrong, then? Couldn’t you do just that?” Yoongi tilts his head to the side. He looks at the street outside. People are slowly disappearing, the sign of the night. Some students continue to walk on the streets. Some take a quick look at his shop. Eyeing the flowers on the glass display. No one else enters, though. There’s no one who really needs flowers at 9 PM.

Namjoon scoffs. “He said we could try. But we’ll break off eventually. He’ll be way too busy working he probably wouldn’t even talk to me. Then I told him what would happen if I lived in Tokyo with him. It had way more cons than pros. Moving to Tokyo meant leaving my family. My friends. It wouldn’t be easy.” 

“Wouldn’t it hurt to try long distance?”

“Ha. Imagine his face when I told him that.” Namjoon sniffs. “I didn’t know what I was thinking. I suddenly brought up why he always acts like a coward. Hates to try new things. Always wants to go through stuff he knows about. He wants to feel like he’s an expert at every single thing he does. Then he spat back at me. Told me Tokyo was a new thing and he was going to try it. He said it wasn’t the same for relationships.”

Yoongi couldn’t say anything. He just continues to look at Namjoon while he tells his tale of eventual heartbreak. 

“He said he didn’t want to see me again. Almost threw the flowers, too. He stopped himself, luckily, and just gave them back to me. He thanked me for all of them. Not only the flowers, but everything we’ve been through. Of course, I tried to get him back.”

“And that didn’t work because—?”

“He already booked his flight.” 

Yoongi can see tears forming on the brims of Namjoon’s eyes. He sniffs again, face contorting in pain. 

“Yoongi…” he starts to say. Yoongi can swear he knows what he’s going to say. There’s a pain in his words that he can’t exactly pinpoint, but he knows what’s going to happen. “I don’t want to cough up flowers.”

It’s horrible. The grief. The ache. Feelings of torture. Like your heart is being torn to shreds when they’re really flowers growing in your lungs. A bitter reminder of love that went wrong. Or love that never actually went . Clogging up your throat until you can’t breathe anymore. But petals fall from your mouth. Beautiful petals of all different flowers. Even those that couldn’t be found in the books and manuals. In perfect bloom. It’s almost pretty. But it’s not. 

Yoongi knows far too many people who have gone through it. Including Hoseok, one of his closest friends since high school. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost feel his flowers in his lungs, too. Surrounding himself with flowers every day doesn’t help. He never, ever wants to experience that. That’s why he tries his best to not fall in love. At least, for someone who he knows won’t love him back. 

“You’re not going to.” Yoongi tries to reassure Namjoon. “If… if you ever do, you can just get them removed.”

“I don’t want to stop loving him.” Namjoon says. He’s hurt. Sure he is. The love of his life is leaving him in a matter of days and he can’t exactly do anything about it. “I can’t.”

It’s a rather simple concept, actually. The flowers get removed. The love goes with them. Gone. Like they never existed in the first place. 

“I just came to return the bouquet. Thought you might need it.” Namjoon musters up, picking up the bouquet and putting them in Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi holds it softly, treating it like it’s a broken heart. “Promise me something?”

“Of course.” Yoongi blinks. 

“Make it into something pretty.” for the first time in that evening, Namjoon smiles. And without another word, he turns his back and leaves. Yoongi follows him with his eyes until he’s turned the street corner. 

He brings the bouquet to his nostrils and breathes in. Sweet. It smells sweet. Like it went through nothing. Yoongi couldn’t put a bouquet as pleasing as this to waste. 

What he does is almost like a ritual. He undoes the yellow bow that holds the stems together. Rolls it up and puts it in the drawer of the counter. He selects an unused vase from the small storage space behind him. A simple one. Just plain white. A perfect contrast to the pleasant array of violets in them. Then, he places them in one of the corners of the counter, where the customers can easily see. It doesn’t look like Namjoon will be stopping anytime soon, anyway.

Yoongi closes up. Making sure everything is in place before he leaves. The walk back to his apartment is a silent one. Normally, he’ll plug in his earphones and listen to some calming tunes. But tonight, he doesn’t. In his head, he silently says an apology to all the flowers Namjoon gave Seokjin. Yoongi soothes them. Reminding them that they surely weren’t all for nothing.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hyung, I finished one of the wreaths the other day!” Jungkook waves as soon as he enters the shop. It’s Saturday. No classes. That means Jungkook gets to work today. 

Seokjin left yesterday. Namjoon texted Yoongi about it. He didn’t even say goodbye before leaving. He’s really about to start a new life in Tokyo. Make new friends. Possibly meet another person who’ll give him flowers. Namjoon and Yoongi don’t talk about that, though. Yoongi just makes sure Namjoon’s okay. And he is. He hasn’t coughed up flowers. So far. 

“That’s great.” Yoongi smiles at Jungkook. It would probably be best if he doesn’t let Jungkook know about it. “You got it?”

“Yep.” Jungkook opens a paper bag he’s bought with him and pulls out the wreath he said he did all by himself. He places it on the counter and looks up at Yoongi with his large doe eyes. “So? What do you think?”

It’s good, for a beginner like him. Yoongi can see that he’s enjoying this a lot. Although, there are some empty patches around the wreath. Some of the flowers also look too handled that they’re relatively close to drooping down. But other than that, it looks perfect. Maybe it’s just Yoongi’s critical eye. Nothing that he can’t fix with a few adjustments. 

“It looks amazing. Thanks.” Yoongi makes sure to give Jungkook a compliment. The kid loves them. Even if it’s just for the little things. “Think you could catch up on more orders today?”

“Of course!” Jungkook answers cheerfully. He makes his way to the storage room to get ready for the day. Especially today, since it’s a weekend. Judging from personal experience, a lot happens on weekends. 

“Oh and... hyung?” Jungkook peeks his head out from the back room. 

“Yeah?” Yoongi looks up from fixing the cash register.

“Some of my friends are visiting today.” Jungkook says. He gives out a big smile. “They won’t be trouble, I promise.”

Yoongi grabs a cloth nearby and starts wiping the counter. “Better keep that promise. Don’t want this place to be a mess.”

Jungkook lets out a chuckle before fully disappearing into the back room. “Don’t worry! They’re older than me!” he shouts. 

Yoongi smiles to himself. Oh, let the kid have his fun. The shop can use a little bit of noise, anyway. 

The morning is busy as usual. That’s expected for the first day of the weekend. Orders were picked up. More bouquets, crowns, and hanging arrangements. White roses that were put on a wedding cake. Lillies with teddy bears. A basket of tulips with love notes tied around the stems. More people came to inquire about their birth flowers. At that point Yoongi wonders if there’s really nothing the internet can give them. Pretty sure it would just take one Naver search but… Yoongi doesn’t get bothered by them anyway. Jungkook also does a great job at keeping the customers company. He answers the questions they ask him about the flowers. He gives recommendations on what flowers look good together. Even notes on the scents of them. Yoongi couldn’t ask for a better assistant. Maybe he’ll pass the shop down to Jungkook when he retires. 

The place is much calmer after lunch time. Yoongi takes that opportunity to go around the store and freshen up the flowers. He picks out the wilted ones and places them in a box in the storage area so he can dry them up and sell them as bookmarks. Replaces the water in the vases. He’s tending to the plum blossoms on a far wall of the store when the bell to the door twinkles. Suddenly, Jungkook’s running at the speed of light to the door. If he went any quicker, Yoongi would have thought he was a ghost.

“Hey! You guys finally came!” Jungkook exclaims. Yoongi couldn’t exactly see what’s going on. He’s too focused on the blossoms. Some are hanging off the edge of the display table, so he puts them back up. 

“Wow,” a particularly deep voice says. Still, it has a youthful softness to it. “I thought this place only existed in pictures.”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Jungkook says to his friends. There he goes again, flexing the store. 

“Yeah. Really. I feel like I’ve been here before. In a dream.” the other friend says. There’s a particular gentleness to it that makes Yoongi’s hands halt on the blossoms. He wants to turn his back and look at them, but maybe that will be too nosy. Should he do it? No, he shouldn’t. He silently hopes the voice would speak again. 

“Hyung! You wouldn’t mind if they look around the shop, right?” it’s Jungkook who speaks, unfortunately. 

Yoongi turns his head just a little. “No, of course not. It’s fine.”

“Taehyung, I saw your birth flower over here earlier. Wanna check it out?” Jungkook asks Taehyung, one of his friends. 

“They have wintersweets? I wanna see.” the deep voice says. Yoongi sees them walk in the corner of his eye to the side of the counter. He takes a mental note in his head. So, the one with the deep voice is Taehyung. The other one… the voice that got his attention. What could his name—

“Hey!” 

Yoongi almost knocks over a vase of rumexes at the sudden sound beside him. Thanks to his quick reflexes, he manages to grab the vase with both of his hands before setting them back into place. He looks beside him, the origin of the sound. 

It’s one of Jungkook’s friends. He’s got his mouth upturned. His face is close to Yoongi’s. His… his smile is really nice. His cheeks are big, too. Yoongi doesn’t know if it’s the overhead light or… this boy’s eyes are literally twinking. He knows that blond isn’t his natural hair color, but it might as well be. Yoongi can’t seem to look away. He must look stupid right now, mouth agape like he just witnessed a murder.

“I was told you own this place?” Jungkook’s friend asks him. He leans back, letting Yoongi breathe for a moment. It’s an opportunity to look at his face clearly. Wow. He’s not that bad of a view to look at. 

“Uhh yeah. I do.” Yoongi manages to say. He strips off his gaze and tries his best to focus on some clematises lining one side of the table. They really don’t need fixing, Jungkook’s been through them just a few minutes back. Maybe Yoongi should look at him. He’s still a customer, anyway. 

Jungkook’s unknown friend steps back. When Yoongi finally looks at him again, his head is turned to the ceiling. Admiring the entire place. Yoongi can’t lie, his shop does look like it’s been pulled from someone’s dream. The walls are lined with dark bricks, contrasting the hundreds of colors within them. Plants can be seen anywhere you look at. There’s some vase arrangements on the wooden floor. Shelves are filled with pots of assorted flowers. Greenery hangs from the ceiling, too. It feels… comfortable. It’s like a home away from home.

But Yoongi’s favorite part would have to be the complete glass ceiling. He got it designed so it would look like a greenhouse. The interior decorator definitely outdid himself. Natural sunlight pours through the semi-tinted panes, giving the place a bright, yet warm glow. 

“How about at night?” Jungkook’s friend asks. Yoongi quickly snaps his head at him. Did he just peek into his brain? How did he know what happens to the glass roof at night? “When there’s no sun anymore? Where will the light come from?”

“Oh.” Yoongi pretends he’s not that surprised. His eyebrows are far up though, declaring otherwise. He points to the corners of the shop, where the wall meets the ceiling. “We have hidden lamps in the walls. They’re automated to switch on when the sun’s about to go down.”

“Wow.” Jungkook’s (still unnamed) friend looks back at him. 

A silence follows after that. Yoongi, being the awkward shopkeeper he is, turns back around to ‘arrange’ some flowers on the shelves. He isn’t exactly sure why he wouldn’t just up and leave. Go to the storage room or something. Save him some dignity. But he doesn’t leave. There’s something about this boy that doesn’t let him get away. He wonders what it is.

Yoongi’s checking for wilted flowers when Jungkook’s friend taps his shoulder. He turns almost immediately, that kind face coming into view once again. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” he says with a sly smile. Finally. 

The midday sun spilling through the glass is warm. But Jungkook’s friend’s smile apparently is warmer. Jimin. That’s a pretty name. Does he know anyone else named Jimin?

Jimin tilts his head, looking confused. Oh. Yoongi hasn’t introduced himself yet. “Yoongi. I own this place.”

“I already know that.” Jimin muses, smiling brightly. It’s when Yoongi notices that when he smiles, his eyes disappear completely. Cute . “I asked you earlier. Also, hi, Yoongi.”

He said his name. He said his name. A bunch of people have said his name before. His mom. His older brother. His teachers. His classmates. His exes. But the sum of how they all felt doesn't even amount to what Jimin’s voice makes Yoongi feel.

Snap out of it.

“You looking for something in particular?” Yoongi suddenly says, out of impulse. He quickly leans against the counter, keeping cool. Jimin jumps a little at that, but regains composure. 

“Hmm… yes, actually. I don’t know what my birth flower is.”

Yoongi leans an inch closer. He’s never been this thrilled to tell someone their birth flower. “When were you born?”

“October thirteen.” Jimin answers. Yoongi tilts his head down, flipping through the small book of birth flowers he has in his head. October… 13...

He looks back up. “Spirea.” his eyes travel across the store. Where were they again? “Oh, I have them right over here.” Yoongi pushes himself off the counter and walks to one of the tables in the middle of the store. Jimin follows after him. Jungkook and Taehyung are entertaining themselves with the cactuses at the back end. Yoongi’s about to call out and stop them but the joyful looks on their faces stop him. His attention goes back to the flowers.

“Here.” he pulls out the small glass vase that holds the spireas. Jimin puts his hands on the table and leans over to look. His fingers are shorter than Yoongi’s. “They’re small, but they grow in clusters so they’re easy to notice.”

Tiny white flowers with a yellow center. Almost like miniature daisies. They look calm, and as Yoongi describes them, “happy to be there”. He’s never given that much attention to the spireas before. Thanks to Jimin, he now will. 

“They look really cute.” Jimin reaches out a finger to gently stroke the flowers. Delicate. “I also know that birth flowers mean something. There’s like a phrase that goes along with them, I think. Do you know what—” his eyes zero on the label. “—spireas mean?”

Yoongi realizes that he’s just been looking at Jimin this entire time. He flips open the book in his head once again. Once he remembers, his fingers absentmindedly tap on the table. “Love that is neat.” he says, almost too quietly.

Lucky for him, Jimin hears it. “Love that is neat…” he repeats, retreating his head from the flowers. “Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever loved neatly before.”

“Hm.” Yoongi smiles. “Readings aren’t always that accurate.”

From the corner of his eye, Yoongi sees Jungkook approaching. “Taehyung wants to buy some sunflowers,” the younger says, pointing to the front of the shop. “Said he’ll use them for his painting references.”

“Sure thing.” Yoongi nods. “Ring that up, will you?”

“Got it.” Jungkook says with a toothy smile. He loves working on the cash register. The buttons on the console are thick and make satisfying sounds when clicked. Sort of like keyboards from the 80s. 

“Can I get something too?” Jimin asks, looking up at Yoongi.

“Of course. Did you find anything here earlier or would you like something custom?” 

Jimin eyes the spireas again. “Just a small vase with a simple arrangement. Make sure these guys are in them. The other plants in my bedroom need a new friend.”

“We can do that. When would—”

“I want you to prepare it. By yourself.” Jimin nudges Yoongi. He has a mischievous smile on his lips. “I’ll come back by…  Monday? To pick it up? Will that be good?”

Yoongi finds his mouth hanging open at Jimin’s request. So he wants Yoongi to make it. Personal. “Yeah. Monday’s fine.”

“I’ll come around then.” Jimin says before stalking over to the counter, where his friends are. He says something about him being hungry and mentions a cafe a few blocks down from the shop. Yoongi doesn’t hear it clearly, though. Since his head is foggy with the few things that happened. This is easy. Spireas are white, so they can be paired with almost any other flower. It will just be a small vase. Not much effort is needed to make it. But for Yoongi, it seems like it’s the hardest order he’s ever had. Enough of those luxurious and extravagant arrangements that take weeks to finish. This simple request will surely mess with Yoongi’s brain. 

Does he want to make it special? Jimin says he’ll put it in his room. Will Yoongi add his birth flower to the arrangement, so Jimin remembers him somehow?

Why does he want Jimin to remember him?

This is bad. 

“I really like your shop. We’ll come again!” Taehyung tells Yoongi, a paper bag with the sunflowers in his hand. “Thanks for these, by the way.” Jimin is following Taehyung, taking one last look around the store before his eyes land on Yoongi. 

“See you Monday.” he says, before exiting the store with Taehyung. The bell jingles, then they’re gone. 

Jungkook walks up to Yoongi, who’s still looking outside. Wonder where Jimin lives. “Hyung, Jimin didn’t buy anything? He loves these things.”

“Yeah. He did. An order.” Yoongi says, walking back to the counter. He keeps his head low, thinking. What Jimin asked him to do will take Yoongi ages to decide on.

“Want me to do it? He’s usually into simple things so I think it would be easy for me to—”

“Don’t stress yourself out with this one.” Yoongi says that more to himself than to Jungkook. “I’ll do it.”

❀ ❀ ❀

The next day, Jungkook was the one busy working at the counter. Whenever the bell would chime, he would greet the customers who entered with the biggest smile plastered onto his face. Every inch of the shop was covered by him. If he’s not at the counter, he’s at the shelves, fixing the flowers. Giving answers to people who ask about the plants they sell. During downtimes (which are extremely rare) he sweeps the floor and cleans the door. Yoongi would only see him in the storage room when Jungkook would grab an order to be delivered. 

“How are you not done with that yet? You’ve been sitting there for the whole day. It’s seven in the evening already, hyung. Why don’t you take a break first?” Jungkook asks as he enters the back room for what feels like the 100th time already. He wipes some sweat on his forehead with his arm. Too many orders today. Sure, Jungkook is just one person but he’ll manage. He always does. 

Yoongi is sitting at one of their work desks, hunched over a small, pastel blue vase. The workspace is littered with all sorts of flowers—from tiger lillies to goldenrods. Some books are also open on the table, flipped to pages with popular flower arrangements. Yoongi’s hands are calloused and dry after handling so many petals. The twine doesn’t help with the burn. He’s wrapped all sorts of arrangements here and there, but none seem to work. 

“No, I don’t need a break.” Yoongi replies, not looking up at Jungkook as the younger picks up a couple of boxes. He inspects the labels closely before ticking off items in his checklist. 

“I really don’t see why this is difficult for you. I mean, no offense, but you’ve done stuff way more extravagant than this. In a very short time, too! Remember that one hanging basket? It was scheduled to be picked up at two PM and you only started doing it at one!” Jungkook lifts the boxes in a single, swift movement. Zero effort. 

Another portion of twine gets tossed off to the side. No, this arrangement won’t work. Time to start on a new one. Again. “Well, this is different. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jungkook stills for a moment, blinking. He may be young, but it would probably not hurt for him to know why this order is bothering Yoongi so much so that he spends an entire day on it. “But…” he gives up. “Nevermind. Just call me if you need anything. I’ll be out front.”

Then he leaves. He looked worried. It’s best if he wouldn’t interfere. 

Yoongi’s left in the silence again. After another failed attempt, he cracks his neck loudly and leans back on the chair. Jungkook’s right. Yoongi has prepared grander things than this. Arrangements that gained him a fortune. This thing is so simple. He runs a hand through his hair, huffing. His mind needs to be cleared. 

Simple things. Jimin likes simple things.

What’s simple on the desk? He thinks. Small flowers. Spireas are the main attraction, so he doesn’t need bigger flowers to overpower them. Small flowers. Baby’s breaths. Forget-me-nots. Lobelias. Lily of the valleys. He gathers all those in front of him, bunching them up with the spireas in the middle.

Then he needs leaves to accentuate the flowers. Eucalyptus. Sage. Lemon leaf. That should match well. He joins those with the partial bouquet in his hands, organizing them so they stay on the sides. 

It looks good. Better than the past ones he’s made. It’s a fair range of colors. He has whites, blues, purples, greens. Yoongi brings up the bouquet to his face, examining closely. Something’s missing. The colors aren’t complete. He just needs one more flower. 

A good sweep with his eyes across the table gets him no new ideas, but he sees the bright pink patch sitting at a far end of the desk. They’re hardly noticeable, but Yoongi stands up and reaches for them.

Larches. His birth flower. 

It’s just the perfect shade he needed. Close to orange, yet not too eye catching. Will it be wrong to put in his birth flower? In Jimin’s arrangement?

Surely not. He wouldn’t know, anyway.

Yoongi finishes up the mini bouquet. A petite white center made of spireas, with bursts of colors from all sides. He ties them up with a short piece of twine, before placing them inside the vase. 

It’s perfect. He really couldn’t say anything more. 

At the sight of the spireas, he remembers Jimin’s smile. Will Jimin like this? Is the vase the right size for his room? Will he notice the leaves? Can the twine be seen from afar? Does it fit his aesthetic? Is it simple?

Will it make him think of Yoongi?

He can feel his throat itching, then a cough makes its way out of his mouth. It’s probably just a reaction since he’s had his nose in flowers for the whole day. 

Yoongi brings the arrangement to a shelf in the back room. Places it with the other orders that need to be picked up tomorrow. Cramped up together, but he leaves the small jar on a shelf with no other orders on it. He’ll meet Jimin again tomorrow.

Does Jimin think of him too?

❀ ❀ ❀

Before Jungkook could leave for the night, Yoongi apologizes to him. Reassures him that there is really nothing to worry about. That Jimin’s order was just more complex than he thought. Jungkook shakes it off, telling Yoongi that it’s fine. Shit happens like that in the shop sometimes, and they can’t avoid them. 

Once Yoongi arrives at his apartment, he immediately drops down on his bed. His hands are tired. His throat seems a bit itchy, too. Must be the pollen. Nothing that sleep can’t fix. He tries to doze off, but he can’t. Because whenever he would close his eyes, it’s all Jimin he sees. His smile. His cheeks. His eyes. 

The night passes by rather slowly. Painfully. Yoongi would constantly keep checking his phone and look at the time. Craves for the hours to tick by faster. 

He decides to open the shop at 6 AM. Two hours earlier than the usual opening time. But his brain is too flooded to think about that right now. Jungkook wouldn’t work for an entire week. That means no one to cover up for Yoongi whenever he needs a break. No one else in the shop with him when Jimin arrives to pick up his order. 

The hours pass by. 8. 9. 10. He coughs occasionally, but he just blames it on the zero sleep he got last night. Customers roam around his shop. More inquiries about birth flowers. Tourists purchasing mugunghwa, the national flower of Korea. Orders get picked up. Yoongi frequently would visit the back room to get them. The shelves with due orders get emptier and emptier. Until 5 PM comes, and the only order left on the shelves is Jimin’s. 

Where is he?

Yoongi does his best to distract himself by working on a bouquet that was needed the next day. He works on it whenever there would be no customers. It was something more on the grand scale, with striking flowers such as clematis. Weird of Yoongi to realize that even though it was way more complex than Jimin’s order, it only took him less than 20 minutes. 

He’s putting on the final touches as the bell at the door jingles. Yoongi quickly looks up. 

It’s Jimin. Back with the same smile on his face. He walks up to the counter, a spring in his step.

Yoongi finds himself straightening up, feels some sort of slight burn on his cheeks. He pushes the bouquet to the side of the counter. “Hey. Didn’t think you would come by today. It’s pretty late.”

“Why wouldn’t I come by? It’s Monday, right? I promised I’d pick it up on Monday.” Jimin places his hands on the counter. He leans forward, trying to peek behind Yoongi. “So… can I see it? I’ve been looking forward to it the whole weekend.”

Yeah. Bet he was. “It’s in the back room. I’ll go get it.” Yoongi says before briskly walking to the pick-up shelves. Before he could open the door again, he stops. He should calm down. This is just Jimin. He’s just handing out his order to him. He does this every single day. What’s so different about this?

Jimin’s eyes instantly widen at the sight of the arrangement. He doesn’t tear away his gaze even when Yoongi puts it in a bag and gently places it on the counter. “Wow.” is all that Jimin could say. “It looks really pretty.” He opens the bag and runs a finger across the larches’ petals. Yoongi’s heart stops for a second. “Bet this only took you around ten seconds. You’re really good at this.”

Ouch. If Jimin only knew it took Yoongi a whole day. “No, I’m not. It’s my job.”

“Mm. But you are good at it.” Jimin hums, cupping the base of the vase through the bag in his hands. “How much will this cost?”

Ah. That’s the problem. Yoongi spent so much time arranging it that he forgot the most essential part. The billing. How could he forget about that? Even if it’s something as pretty as flowers, it’s still a business.

“Um… I h-haven’t really…” Yoongi mumbles. He takes a good look at the flowers. The arrangement would easily be priced at ₩ 25,000. Probably even higher than that. Spireas can get on the expensive side. Most of the flowers and leaves he used are costly, too. 

He coughs once. Much better if he saves himself the time. Give his heart a break. “Actually, we’ll give it to you for free.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up. He may dress in Chanel, but he still does get excited from free stuff. “Wait, really? Why?” as good as free flowers can get, he still feels guilty about not paying for them. Especially for something that alluring. “No way, these must cost a lot. Let me pay for them.”

“The shop has this... policy,” why is Yoongi lying through his teeth? “First orders of new customers cost nothing. Marketing strategy.”

Jimin’s still puzzled. “But… why? I’m no expert, but these things take time and effort. Right?”

“Of course they do. Keeps the customers coming back.”

Does he want Jimin to come back?

“Oh.” Jimin blinks. He lifts the bag off the counter, placing his other careful hand underneath. “Don’t know anything about business but it seems like a good policy.” he flashes a smile. His eyes disappear. “If it’s like that then I’ll be on my way. Still have exams tomorrow.”

Yoongi does his best to stay undisturbed. He thought Jimin would spend a little more time. Maybe talk with Yoongi more? Look around the shop? Request more orders? “Sure. Please come again.”

It’s a phrase he always says. Required to. With Jimin though, it feels more like a plea. Did it sound like one? 

“Oh, of course I will.” Jimin walks backwards from the counter. He almost looks like he’s pulling Yoongi in. Yoongi grips the countertop, steadying himself. His cheeks flame up. “You wouldn’t mind if I come here more often, would you?”

Yoongi physically can’t say anything, since his throat starts itching again. Is he allergic to something? He simply shakes his head at Jimin’s sentence. Of course he wouldn’t mind. It wouldn’t be any problem if Jimin visits. Make it every day. 

“I’ll be off, then.” Jimin waves before exiting the shop. He crosses by the front display, taking another peek into his paper bag and smiling. Then he turns the corner. Just like that, he’s gone again.

Silence fills the shop. Yoongi relaxes his tense shoulders. His hands feel clammy. A cough exits his mouth. It doesn’t stop with one. He has a full on coughing fit. Chest feels tight. Throat itches a lot more. What’s wrong with him? For two years he’s worked at the shop. Never caught allergies on anything. On flowers, leaves, you name it. He normally doesn’t get sick. Whenever he would, it would just be a quick cold. From walking in the rain for too long. Goes away in a day or two. The last time he’s had a bad cough was when he was around 10. 

His eyes get teary as he keeps on coughing. Should have taken those pills. If it doesn’t clear out by tomorrow, he’ll have to close the shop. Couldn’t manage to do that. What if Jimin comes by? Oh no, imagine his face when he arrives at the shop to find it closed. 

Does Jimin like the flowers? Will the vase be the right size for his room? Did he notice the leaves? Does he see the twine from afar? Does it fit his aesthetic? Was it simple enough?

Did it make him think of Yoongi?

I want you to prepare it. By yourself.

Another cough. He feels something coming up in his throat. Yoongi brings a hand to his mouth.

Cough. He spits something out. Soft touch on his palm. Barely there. He lowers his hand to see. 

A single rose petal. 

❀ ❀ ❀

Tuesday arrives. He has gotten worse, but it’s still thankfully easy to hide. Goes to the shop like it’s just a normal day. He’ll do his best to only cough whenever he’s in the storage room, picking up orders. Or whenever the shop is empty. Covering his mouth when he coughs. The flowers come more often as the day progresses. Not just petals anymore. Full on flowers. 

It certainly doesn’t get any easier when Jimin comes by in the early afternoon.

“Hyung!” he excitedly says as he runs over to the shelf where Yoongi is cleaning. “The vase looks amazing in my room. I didn’t put it next to my other plants because it’s a special one. It’s on the windowsill above my bed. I like to think it watches over me when I sleep. Guards the bed for me when I’m not there. My mom asked where I got it. I told her I bought them from you. Well, not bought . More like… you gifted them to me? They’re wonderful!”

He just rambles on. Talks about how his cat liked the flowers, too. Yoongi just nods along, listening intently to every word Jimin says. The younger follows him around the shop as he wipes the shelves. Sometimes, Yoongi doesn’t hear Jimin clearly because of the pain in his throat. He wants to cough. He can’t. He can’t do that in front of him. What if he sees the flowers? Will he ask him who caused them? If he does, will Yoongi tell him?

“I really wish I can come here every day.” Jimin says as he checks out some chrysanthemums. Yoongi wants to burst. He lets himself a sliver of a cough when Jimin’s not looking at him. Some petals rise in his throat, but he is forced to swallow them down. “Oh! Our term break is next week. I bet I can visit every single day during that time. That would be lovely. Will it be okay with you?”

Yoongi looks at Jimin. He nods with a small smile. “Of course. That would be more than fine.”

“Great!” he exclaims, before continuing admiring the flowers. The two reach a table arrangement. Jimin puts his hands on the tabletop to steady himself. He leans in, looking at the flowers in the big arrangement. He reads the labels carefully. Yoongi stops cleaning and looks at Jimin’s hand on the table. He wonders what it would feel like in his. Dainty. Complete opposite from Yoongi’s hands, which clearly reflect the years of experience he’s had as a florist. Will Jimin’s hand feel soft? Will he allow Yoongi to hold him? Yoongi tries to reach out but—

“I should probably be going. I literally have two finals tomorrow and I still haven’t studied.” he retreats his hands. Shoulders giving a quick shrug. “You’ve been quiet today, hyung.”

“Small cough. Should be gone soon.” Yoongi lies. 

“Oh. I hate coughs.” Jimin’s eyebrows furrow. “Make my throat all itchy and I can’t speak for days. Anyway, feel better, yeah? You should take some medicine. And maybe a day off.” his gaze drops to the floor. “Please get better soon. So you won’t have to take days off. This place will really be lonely without you.”

“Thanks.” is all Yoongi could say before a cough exits his mouth. No petals. He says a silent prayer.

“See you soon!” Jimin waves as he goes out the door. Gone. Yoongi walks back to the counter.

That night is all a blur. Closing up, going up, coughing up flowers. Yoongi’s lucky enough they’re not suffocating him. Yet. 

Yoongi gets pulled in a dream. He’s… he’s in a maze. The blistering sun directly above him tells it’s around midday. The walls are made of bushes. A bush maze. The leaves are a dull shade of green, lifeless. The floor is made of gravel. It crunches every time Yoongi takes a step. 

He tries to find a way out. But it seems to be endless. Left turns. Right turns. Dead ends. He even attempts the tactic of hugging the right wall, but it brings him right back to the start. There’s no exit. The heat isn’t helping at all. He’s walking down a long section when a figure runs across him. Blurry. Yoongi chases it down. Maybe that’s his way out of there. 

His legs carry him as quickly as they go. Turning corners sharply. Leaves graze his skin and leave cuts. They hurt, but he doesn’t pay them any mind. The figure keeps running. Yoongi tries to call out for it, but he can’t. There’s something in his throat—

The figure stops. Yoongi runs up to it. A person. Looks awfully familiar. It turns around slowly. 

Jimin. He’s here. Everything’s okay. They’ll get out. His eyes level with Yoongi’s, the same hopeful gaze he always has. 

Yoongi doesn’t think twice. He reaches out his hand steadily, bringing it up to cup Jimin’s face. Feels soft. Warm. He takes a step closer, until he feels Jimin’s breaths against him. Jimin doesn’t pull back. Yoongi leans in. 

What would it feel like?

His chest suddenly tightens, causing him to be the one to pull back. Both hands go to his mouth when he starts coughing. It burns. His throat is being ripped apart. 

He can’t let Jimin see this. He can’t. 

A flower escapes his mouth. Marigold. Orange petals with bright yellow edges. Beautiful. 

The knowledge of what it means hits Yoongi like a brick. It’s what hurts more than when he spit it out. 

His book of flowers forces itself open in his mind. Yoongi shakes his head to stop it. Doesn’t work. 

Marigold. The herb of the sun. Cruelty. Grief. Pain. Connected phrase: Why won’t you love me?

Yoongi feels Jimin’s hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at him. Still so heavenly like the first day they met. He’d give anything to see that face again.

“Yoongi.”

It’s the way he says his name. Yoongi straightens up, ignoring the marigold on the ground. Jimin looks down. There are flowers growing on the dirt where he stands. Branching out like vines onto the bushes that surround them. Variations of each species. Different colors, different types, different shapes. Even the flowers that Yoongi has never seen before. Why won’t you love me?

“Yoongi.” Jimin says his name again. Almost like a spell. “Bloom for me.”

And he wakes up.

He starts to hate his shop. Fucking flowers at every blink of his eye. He almost wants to tear the store apart. Break the vases. Separate petals from centers. Dishevel bouquets. Destroy the glass roof. But he just grips the counter as hard as he can, knuckles turning white. He can’t ruin this shop. This place. He can’t do that.

Because Jimin likes it. He likes the arrangements on the shelves, the way the light filters in through the roof, the pretty vases with the intricate designs, the wooden flooring, the brick walls, the hidden lamps, the books, the manuals, the spireas.

Does… does Jimin like Yoongi, too? He's technically part of the shop. Does he like him? Does he have flowers growing in his lungs, too?

Of course he doesn’t. If he did, then Yoongi wouldn’t have to go through all this.

He manages to give out the last order for the day before he feels a prickling sensation spreading across his chest. He can’t breathe. No air through his nose or mouth. His head spins. Loses his footing. He coughs. More flowers. It hurts. It all hurts. He runs to the bathroom and doesn’t even gain enough energy to shut the door.

Drops down in front of the toilet. Lurches. Flowers. Spots of yellow, purple, pink, orange, and green. He despises them. Every single one of them. Yet another cough stops him. He heaves again. More flowers. 

Hauntingly beautiful. 

God, he must look terrible. No way he can keep the shop open looking like that. He decides to close up, and go home. The agony doesn’t stop there.

All night. Flowers. No sleep. 

He leans his back against the cold bathroom wall. Shuts his eyes to mute the harsh white light. He promised. Promised himself that he would never fall in love again. Pledged. Vowed. Assured. Agreed. Swore. Promised.

But promises should be broken. Makes you feel the weight of it. Forces you to realize how sacred it is to make that promise. So that you don’t commit again. A reminder of how your stupid and ignorant decisions made you face the consequences. 

Yoongi falls to the ground. There are things that crumble. Him. Flowers. Promises. 

❀ ❀ ❀

“There’s no point. Just get them removed already. I still have the contact of the doctor who removed mine—”

“No.”

“Please.” Hoseok begs on the other end of the phone. “Please, hyung. I know how much that fucking hurts and I can’t let you feel it too.”

“I said no.”

Head hanging low. Knees close to his chest. Shirt drenched with sweat. Lungs on fire. Bloody tissues litter the floor around him. 

And flowers. Petals. Thorns. Stems. Flowers. 

He knows each and every one of them. Recognizes what they mean. What they symbolize. 

Wild roses. Pleasure and pain. Yellow marguerites. I come soon. Canterbury bells. Your letter received. White lillies. My love is pure. Irises. I send a message. Yellow pansies. Thinking of you.

Yoongi sniffs. “I can’t do that. I can’t get them removed. If I do then…”

“You’ll forget about him. I know.” Hoseok sighs. “But that pain is unbearable. You can die. And you will, if you don’t do anything about it.”

“What else is there to fucking do?” Yoongi cries. “What the fuck does he want from me? I love him and I hate that I do. These stupid flowers… ”

Silence from the other end. “Just try.”

“Try what?”

“Try to make him love you. I know you’re scared. You’re scared of getting hurt. That’s why you never tell the truth. You’re not fine, Yoongi. Stop lying to yourself. Look at you. You’ve been sleepless ever since Jimin came into your life. Please.” a pause. “Talk to him. Tell him you love him. Make the flowers go away on their own.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause then he’ll leave. He’s just… a customer. That’s all he is.” Yoongi coughs. Periwinkle. “Why did he have to talk to me that day? He could have gone with Jungkook and Taehyung. But his smile…”

“Yoongi. Please. I can’t let you do this to yourself. He won’t leave. If you know him well enough, you’ll know if he would want to talk.”

“Forget it, Hoseok.” Yoongi shakes his head in defeat.

“Wait—”

“If I have to live with flowers for the rest of my fucking life then so be it.” he hangs up. 

Hoseok immediately tries calling him again, but Yoongi shuts off his phone. 

He remembers Namjoon. What he said about Seokjin. 

I don’t want to stop loving him.

Yoongi ends up in tears. The moonlight streaming through his apartment windows remains as the only source of light he has. It aches. Not just his lungs. His heart. 

He sees a daisy on the floor. I love you truly. 

If Jimin only knew. Yoongi keeps the truth away from him because he doesn’t want Jimin to run off. Get scared. Yoongi imagines himself running the shop just like usual. Putting on a facade whenever he’s at the counter. Running off into the bathroom when the flowers come again. Seeing Jimin every day with that smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. Yoongi could pretend. He could pretend to be okay. Maybe just for a little while longer. 

There’s a red carnation next to his phone. 

My heart aches for you .

And it does. It really does. The thing with Jimin… Yoongi would take the flowers for him. All of them. He’ll let them fill his lungs, his throat. Let them expel themselves from his mouth. Let them keep him up all night long. If it’s for Jimin, he can do it. He’ll force himself to.

Bloom for me.

Even if it’s the last thing he does. 

❀ ❀ ❀

He goes to work the next day. Friday. As expected, the flowers don’t stop. But there’s something quite off about them. Most of what Yoongi throws up aren’t flowers anymore. Just petals. Small ones at that, too. And when he coughs, they only come once in a while.

It makes him worry. What if he’s falling out of love? No. No. That’s not possible. He thinks Jimin at every waking moment. The entire fucking store reminds Yoongi of him. No way. 

But that night. Yoongi actually got to sleep. He’ll wake up every few hours, but just for a coughing fit. The vomiting has stopped. 

Saturday comes by. Jungkook’s at the shop again to help out. He doesn’t know anything about what’s happening with Yoongi. Probably best if he stays out of it. He’s Jimin’s friend. The kid slips almost all of the time. He can’t risk it. 

The day carries on as usual. Loads of customers. Hundreds of orders. More deliveries. 

Jungkook assists some suppliers outside of the shop while Yoongi takes an itinerary inside. He’s got his back turned from the counter, ticking off the flowers he currently has in stock, and marking those that he needs so he can start contacting suppliers. Bluebells, they still have that. Peonies, only a few left. Wisterias, a fresh batch is needed. Spireas…

“Yoongi.” 

He grips the pencil in his hand. That voice. Light. Soft. Tender. Just like the one that came to him in a dream long ago. Should he turn around? What if he turns around and the maze is back? 

“Yoongi.” 

A steady breath. He turns around. 

“Welcome back.” a smile. Not a fake one. “Thought you wouldn’t visit again.”

“Why wouldn’t I? I love this place too much.” small hands on the counter. 

It takes Yoongi a quick second to realize that the flowers disappeared ever since that morning. His lungs are clear. He’s not coughing anymore. Takes him by surprise that he starts breathing through his mouth, a firm hand on his chest. 

They’re gone. 

He thought Jimin would react weirdly. Furrow his eyebrows like he did a few days before. But he doesn’t. Jimin looks like he knows exactly what’s going on. 

Yoongi gets scared, but a hand on his calms him down. 

“You forgot to tell me something about spireas.” Jimin says. “I thought you knew everything about them.”

Yoongi tilts his head. He’s sure he’s said everything he knows about them. Is there something that he forgot? “I thought I did. What do you know?”

“The phrase that comes with them.” Jimin strokes Yoongi’s hand. “I read it in one of your books here.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “What does the phrase say?”

An inhale. Exhale. Lips turning up into a soft smile. Sun shining down from the glass roof. Scents of flowers all around. And a touch.

Does Jimin think of him too?

“I’ll still be waiting for you.” 

Yoongi considers his shop his home. Not his cramped, run-down apartment that manages to make itself filthy. This place. A sanctuary. Complete with the brick walls, the invisible lights, the counter, Jungkook’s favorite cash register…

And the flowers. All of them. The small ones. The huge ones. Those that cost more than his rent. Those that can be found in parks. Spireas. Larches. 

It’s like a part of his heart is in the shop. Beating. Keeping it alive. 

Though there may not be flowers in his lungs anymore, there are still the ones surrounding him. And the most exquisite flower of all in front of him. One that is clearly beyond comparison. 

Jimin picks up Yoongi’s hand completely. “It’s lunch time. Take a walk with me?”

❀ ❀ ❀

As Yoongi lays in his bed, Jimin’s hand intertwined with his, he spots daffodils. In a pot he’s put at the corner of his bedroom. The first ever flowers he had in his shop. Jimin shuffles himself closer to Yoongi’s body. Yoongi’s arm rubbing his shoulder. Daffodils mean new beginnings. Rebirth. Spring approaching. A fresh start. Something to look forward to. Of course Yoongi knows these.

He knows all of them—the scientific names for the flowers, all the dates, the phrases, the colors, the care—everything about flowers you can possibly think of, Min Yoongi knows. That’s why it wasn’t that hard to open up a flower shop in a small corner in Seoul. People pass by every single day, stopping for a while to take a good look at all the flowers on display. There are even buckets outside of the store that have to-go roses, as Yoongi calls them. Just in case someone is running late on a date and needs a little miracle.

Flowers are everywhere. Not just those that sprout from the ground. Not just those with petals and thorns. Not just those that grow in the wild. But those we hold dear. Flowers who visit every week to buy gifts. Flowers who migrate to different countries. Flowers who are cheerful and have bunny teeth. Flowers who have deep voices and paint sunflowers. Flowers who know just what to say. 

There are always flowers. Have a willingness to see them and they’ll bloom for you.

Just know where to look.