"My name is Theodosia Prevost, and my pronouns are she/her."
Those were the first words to give Charles a small sign that this wasn't going to end well. He, however, learned more about someone than he'd ever expected. Theodosia was a transfer student from New Jersey. She loved the sunshine and her favorite flowers were hyacinths. Charles had to admit, the dark-skinned young woman was rather attractive - and what he'd seen so far, kind - but he didn't understand why he had a sinking feeling in his stomach until noontime rolled around.
"Did you hear about the new girl?" Aaron Burr, his best friend, and roommate, asked him, trying to look uninterested but failing.
"Yeah, she was in my class." Charles answered, flipping through his notes for the exam he would be having in a couple days. "Why?"
"No reason," was the answer, and Charles looked up from his papers to see Aaron quickly turn away. "I just wanted to know."
He likes her, was the first thought to cross Charles' mind. And then he felt a pang of jealousy.
That night, Charles stayed in the library to study. Barely anyone was inside, so he was allowed some peace and quiet.
Charles plunked his bag down on a nearby chair and hauled out his textbook, opening it and sitting down. But he couldn't focus. All he could think of was Aaron's crush on Theodosia. And that disgusted him. He was Aaron's friend, after all. Feeling jealous wasn't going to change anything.
He felt a tingle in his throat, and coughed on instinct. A perfect yellow flower petal floated out of his mouth and landed on his book.
Shit.
He had heard of this disease, where the victim coughed up flowers until they died or the person of their interest liked them back. But the problem was, who was he in love with?
He shoved the petal into his pocket and promptly forgot about it within an hour.
The next day, a classmate of his, James Madison, went on a long spiel of plants, reminding Charles of his problem. He fished the petal out of his pocket and showed it to Madison.
"What flower is this petal from?"
Madison examined it before declaring, "It's a hyacinth."
Charles' stomach dropped. A hyacinth. The only connection to this flower was Theodosia, who claimed that hyacinths were her favorite flower.
Yellow hyacinths, he remembered, meant jealousy.
But was he in love with Theodosia, or was he just jealous of her? The answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't want to say it.
Because no matter how many petals he vomited up over the next few days, he refused to acknowledge his feelings.
Aaron was his friend. Only his friend. They were friends that helped each other through the good and bad times, friends that could confide in each other without judgement, friends that no matter what happened, they could not be separated. But the arrival of Theodosia split them apart and Charles hated it.
Aaron had gotten up the courage to ask her out, and Charles couldn't have been happier for him. Even when he was forced to excuse himself to the bathroom to cough up dozens of hyacinth petals with blood flecks mixed in between. Aaron deserved happiness. And if it was with Theodosia, that was fine with Charles.
But he still couldn't deny his feelings for his friend.
Aaron started spending more time with Theodosia, and of Charles counted all the times in dollars that his friend cancelled on him or spent time without him, he would have enough money to buy a new car.
But if Aaron was happy, then he was happy. Right?
It never worked that way, and he knew it. The constant blood and flower mixing with toilet water only confirmed his conflict.
He wanted Aaron. Wanted Aaron to look at him the way he looked at her, wanted Aaron to kiss him the way he kissed her, wanted them to be together, but no matter how many times he dreamed it, he was reminded again when he woke up that it wasn't real. It was never going to be real.
Hanahaki disease was fatal. Charles knew that. He only had maybe a week to live, at most.
He was also determined to keep his feelings to himself. If he ruined Aaron and Theodosia's relationship, he'd feel guilty for the rest of his life, and if Aaron never returned his feelings, he would die anyway.
Everyone always said he was a coward. Maybe they were right.
Thoroughly disgusted with himself, Charles made his way to class. To his consternation, Theodosia and Aaron were sitting in the back, sitting so closely together, Theodosia could be just sitting on his lap.
Charles passed them silently, his stomach twisting. He could feel the flowers pushing against his throat, but he swallowed them against his lung's protests.
He couldn't deal with it. Not right now.
But when Professor Washington assigned Aaron and Theodosia as partners for an upcoming project, Charles couldn't hold it in anymore.
He doubled over in his seat, nearly falling off of his chair as a gross mixture of blood and nearly perfect hyacinths splattered across the ground. Students shrieked and ran out of the classroom: one went to get the nurse, twenty more ran to the bathroom to throw up themselves.
Charles couldn't breathe. His throat stung of acid and his lungs squeezed together so tight, his head spun. He felt hands on his shoulders, turning him sideways so he could take in large gulps of air, and he was met with Aaron's concern-filled eyes.
His friend's gaze travelled from Charles' face to the bloodied flowers and back up again. He understands.
"Charles..." Aaron's voice almost sounded pleading but Charles couldn't stay in his presence any longer. I'm going to die.
The last thing he saw before he ran blindly out of the classroom was Aaron talking urgently to Theodosia.
It was snowing outside, something that Charles, for once, was grateful for. No one bothered to hang out outside when it snowed, so Charles could have the privacy to die in peace.
Falling to his knees, he watched as blood slowly dripped from his lips and landed in the snow in front of him. The red strongly contrasted against the white, and Charles found himself engrossed with the colors as they bled into each other. His mind was getting foggy, but he didn't care. All this leads to nothing. Those stupid flowers.
Aaron probably would never love him back; his relationship with Theodosia proved this, but still Charles hoped. He had hoped to the very end.
The edges of his vision were darkening, but not enough to stop Charles from seeing a lone figure running towards him in his peripheral vision.
When the person came closer, Charles could see it was Aaron. Not now, he tried to say, but the flowers were clogging his mouth, filling his lungs, preventing him from breathing, much less talking.
Aaron knelt besides Charles, taking the latter's face in his hands. Charles vaguely recognized that they were physically closer to each other than ever.
Aaron's eyes roved over Charles' face, and Charles had to remind himself that he was dying in order to regain control of his reality.
"Aaron-" he managed to choke out, hyacinth petals and blood trickling out of his mouth.
Aaron interrupted him by bending down to kiss Charles on the lips right as Charles lost consciousness.