Chapter Text

azaleas

1.

Flowers are strange, beautiful things.

Colorful, silent beings.

Elegant, graceful blooms.

Blossoms that only speak with an honest tongue.

“Will that be all for you?”

“Yes, thank you!”

Aventurine smiled as he finished ringing up the customer holding a bright red assortment of flowers. He waved as they left the store satisfied.

“My, that’s a lot of roses.” Jade, the owner of this flower shop, commented, tidying some flowers before moving to the counter where Aventurine dusted pollen off the surface with his hand.

“He heavily insisted on it since he was going to confess to someone,” Aventurine sighed, leaning over the counter and propping his face on his hand. “I get that roses are considered the most romantic flowers ever, but they are really overused and overrated. And they die so fast too.”

“But, they are the ones that make the most money.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t kill them to try thinking about using something else too.”

Jade raised her brow. “Well, what if someone you liked gave you roses?”

Aventurine scoffed. “I wouldn’t be into someone like that in the first place.”

“Right,” Jade chuckled, slightly amused. Then, she glanced to see someone coming into view of the store window: A particular blue-haired man that had been showing up regularly for the past few months. “Seems like he’s here.”

It was a casual observation spoken out loud. But, when Jade turned to her employee, he was already pulling off his apron and folding it neatly.

“Somebody’s eager.”

“To clock out,” Aventurine said matter-of-factly before shooting his boss a stare, contrasting the menacing look with a polite smile. “Don’t. Think. About it. Boss.”

Jade returned the same smile, amused.

Aventurine quickly hurried to the back of the store as the bell chimed at the door. Jade looked over to see the young, stoic man walking in.

“Hello, Ratio.”

“Hello, Ms. Jade,” Ratio nodded politely.

“I believe you’re here for Aventurine, right? I’ve noticed you usually come at the end of his shifts to pick him up.”

“Yes. We live together, so that’s why.”

Jade gave a small chuckle.

“While you’re waiting for Aventurine, would you like to buy some flowers?” Jade began, slithering to Ratio’s side and giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “We have a lovely selection of fresh, beautiful flowers that could suit any occasion. A graduation party? Tea time? Decorative pieces? Or maybe for something romantic?”

Ratio furrowed his brows and tried inching away. “Thank you, but—”

“Jade! ”

A loud screech interrupted them. They both turned to see a young man sprinting towards them.

“Ah, Ratio!” Aventurine laughed loudly as he darted between them, swerving Ratio away with one hand and shooing Jade with the other. “It’s been so quiet for the past hour and you just happened to walk in, hahaha! Very sorry about that!”

Jade raised an eyebrow but kept her smile. “We just had a rush of customers and you were complaining about the last—”

“Ah! Won’t you look at the time?” Aventurine cut her off and faced Ratio with a wide grin. “It’s almost time for us to go out and eat dinner, right Ratio?”

Ratio raised a brow. “It’s only 4:30—”

Ratio didn’t get to finish. Instead, Aventurine grabbed his shoulders and started ushering him out. “Goodbye, Jade! See you tomorrow!”

The door chimed as Aventurine hurried both of them out before Jade could catch them. Otherwise, Jade might force them to sit through an hour-long advertisement. Ratio sighed as they ended up in the busy plaza and headed down their familiar route.

“Seems like an eventful day at work,” Ratio said, noticing the slightly frazzled look on Aventurine’s face.

“Aside from that, nah not really. It was easy as usual,” Aventurine said, shaking away the remaining nerves he had. Thankfully, it looked like Ratio was unbothered by the commotion earlier.

“Really? Jade mentioned you were complaining about something earlier.”

“Ah, that?” Aventurine laughed sheepishly. “Recently, we’ve been getting more customers ordering bouquets for love confessions and all that jazz. Y’know, Valentines’ and all.”

Ratio swore he heard a snap and he glanced to see Aventurine cracking his knuckles while possessing an irritated smile.

“You know how many roses I’ve sold in the past couple of months? We keep running out of stock and it’s driving me crazy, especially when we have other flowers available. Not to mention how many times I kept getting pricked with the thorns every time I had to cut them off. Sure, it’s popular and good for business, but why does everyone keep insisting on roses? Seriously, roses aren’t the only flowers for romance so it wouldn’t kill any of these people to be more thoughtful with their flowers! I’m not a flower guy, but I swear I’m going to lose my mind if one more person asks me for a custom made bouquet of roses.”

Ratio gave him a mildly curious look. An unprompted rant specifically towards roses had certainly caught him off guard. “Then, what would you do if someone gave you roses?”

Aventurine scoffed, cringing at imagining a scenario of someone shoving a bouquet of bright red roses at his face. It looked so awfully cliche like a scene ripped out of a textbook rom-com movie that Aventurine would writhe in second-hand embarrassment.

“If someone confessed to me with it, I’d reject them immediately,” He declared, turning to Ratio. “What about you? What would you do?”

They entered the train station when Ratio swiftly checked the watch on his wrist. Their train was coming in 10 minutes as per usual.

“I suppose it depends on the person giving it to me,” Ratio spoke bluntly. He was clearly uninterested in imagining a scenario unlike Aventurine, which disappointed the latter. “But, I’m not exactly holding a history of spite towards roses in general, unlike someone here.”

Aventurine narrowed his eyes and nudged at Ratio’s arm. “Hey. You just made fun of me, didn’t you?”

“Believe what you want.”

“Okay, what if a random person gave you a bunch of roses out of nowhere? What would you do?”

“I wouldn’t accept it.”

“See? I told you—”

“That’s because I don’t know them.”

Aventurine grinned playfully, reminiscent of a cat messing with a larger cat. “Okay, what if I gave you a whole box full of roses? What would you do?”

Ratio sighed heavily. “Why would you give me roses in the first place if you don’t even like them?”

Aventurine gave an exasperated groan. The cat was no longer amused. “It was a hypothetical question.” Then, Aventurine sighed and dismissively waved a hand. “Anyways, forget about it. Did you finish the assignment due tonight?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Then, his expression contorted to express his disbelief. “Have you not done it at all?” Ratio nearly chided, but there was still a tiny room of that benefit-of-a-doubt.  

Unfortunately, Aventurine gave a cheeky smile and clapped his hands together to bow.

“I will cook the finest meals tonight in exchange for your wisdom.” Wisdom meaning assignment and Ratio understood that perfectly well.

Ratio gave Aventurine an irritated glare before he pinched the bridge of his nose. Ratio wasn’t annoyed with Aventurine asking for his work. He knew that Aventurine was smart enough to finish the worksheet himself, but he liked to remind Ratio how much Aventurine sucked at time management.

“What have you been doing during your discussion?” Ratio asked as he resorted to tapping the book spine on Aventurine’s head to express his disappointment. 

Aventurine whistled defensively. Ratio gaped in disbelief.

“It’s been an entire week—”

“Hey, hey! Before you blow up your brains at me, I did do some of the questions!” Aventurine quickly corrected. “I was just having a hard time trying to figure out the rest of the questions and my TA sucked at explaining it.”

“Okay, then I’ll help you.”

Aventurine beamed brightly. In that stellar moment, Ratio was glowing with a halo on his head. “Thank you! I’ll—”

“And we’re studying for the test after.”

The halo promptly fell off Ratio’s head.

“What?” Aventurine laughed in confusion, but Ratio didn’t waver. “You mean you’re studying, right?”

Ratio furrowed his brows. “ You’re the one who asked me to help you with studying and I highly doubt that you've done any yourself since then.”

And, well, Ratio wasn’t wrong. After Aventurine had failed one of his tests, he was sobbing (not literally) to Ratio for help since then. While Ratio’s tutoring sessions were effective, Aventurine’s attention span and productivity sometimes preferred to watch movies instead. Like the…past week.

“I did. Something.” 

“Is it studying probability statistics or rewatching three seasons of Sun’s Sonata—”

“Wow! What is that in your hand?” Aventurine gawked dramatically, leaning down as if he just discovered the book in Ratio’s hand this whole time. “That looks cool! Is it a textbook?”

Ratio was unamused but decided to entertain Aventurine’s attempt to deflect. “It’s a novel I got from the bookstore before I picked you up.” He replied flatly. 

But, Aventurine didn’t respond with a witty remark so Ratio looked over to see Aventurine giving him an expectant look that suggested he should continue.

Ratio sighed, holding up the book to Aventurine. “It’s a novel about two people who undergo a series of intense, grueling trials caused by an unknown phenomenon. They’re forced to confront their deepest fears, and question their values and their relationship.”

Aventurine ooh’ed. He was a little intrigued. 

“Sounds like a romantic thriller,” Aventurine said, spinning a finger around thoughtfully. “Let me guess: They fall in love with each other, but they are forced to choose between saving their lover or themselves?”

Ratio shook his head in disbelief at the cliched and misguided guess. But, knowing Aventurine and his consumption of media, his guess may not be entirely off the mark.

“I never took you to be reading romance novels like that at all. I thought you’d be more into…textbooks,” Aventurine joked.

Ratio furrowed his brow in disbelief. “What kind of perception do you have of me?”

“Would you like the honest answer or the nice answer?” Aventurine smiled politely.

Ratio sighed heavily and tapped the book spine on Aventurine’s head. Aventurine laughed lightly right as the train arrived to take them home.

…

They have been living together for almost a year now in a small, comfortable 2-bedroom apartment. 

It started when Stelle, the social butterfly she was, introduced them to each other since they happened to be her friends. Then, they went from strangers to acquaintances to roommates in a few weeks. After that, the rest was history.

Or that was the simpler version of his story.

Ratio had seen Aventurine before—way before Stelle introduced him formally.

— 7 AM TRAIN RIDE —

Blonde hair. Purple eyes.

Alternated between headphones and earbuds and always stood at the doors, staring outside the window.

Ratio vaguely remembered him from the train rides, and the only reason why he did was because of the time when the blonde man accidentally blasted music—rock music, in the train. It startled some people and the man was quick to apologize, his face reddening as he hastily turned his music off.

When Ratio started to notice him more frequently, he figured out that they attended the same university after seeing him in the same morning lecture on two separate occasions.

Later as Ratio walked down to go to his previous place at the time, he spotted the same man working in the local flower shop.

A week later, when Stelle waved him over to her group of friends, he was standing in front of the blonde-haired man with a polite smile. Aventurine , the man introduced himself. And for some reason, the name lingered in Ratio’s head longer than any professor’s name.

“My landlord decided it was a good time to raise the rent so now I’m trying to find a new place,” Aventurine mentioned at some point when they became more acquainted with each other.

 Or, well, more like Aventurine had wiggled his way into Ratio’s life by hanging out with him when they ended up at the same place, and Ratio not shooing him away.

If it was anyone else, Ratio wouldn’t try bothering. But, Ratio glanced at Aventurine thoughtfully.

— HIS OFFER —

“I have a room.”

…

There was an alarm ringing in the apartment. It was tolerable at first. But, it would eventually become annoying on the second and third and fourth loop—all 5 minutes of looping until Ratio was standing at the door with his knuckles up.

“Are you awake?” Ratio asked, his voice slightly raised as he knocked. 

No response.

Ratio knocked again, this time more impatient.

But, the alarm continued its unwelcoming choir. With a heavy sigh, Ratio opened the door and saw Aventurine suffocating his face inside his pillow with the blankets sprawled all over him.

Ratio considered the possibility that Aventurine might be dead. But, he could still hear Aventurine’s muffled breathing, which led him to think if he should yell at him to wake up. 

He decided otherwise, but, he walked up to the bed, grabbing onto the blankets and yanking it out. Aventurine groaned in response and curled up tightly into a fetal position.

“Wake up. You have half an hour to get ready,” Ratio said.

Aventurine groaned again, peeling his bleary eyes open. “What time is it?”

“7:30 AM.”

Aventurine grumbled something indistinguishable and buried his face into the pillow. But, he had no energy to fight back so Ratio grasped his arm and easily pulled him upright into flopping over like a sitting rag doll. 

“Don’t think about dozing off,” Ratio firmly advised, taking Aventurine’s phone to turn off the alarm.

Aventurine mumbled some incoherent gibberish as he staggered out of bed and followed Ratio out of his room and to the kitchen.

“I can still see numbers in my brain,” Aventurine grumbled, still feeling the effects of last night’s study session. He slipped into a chair at the kitchen island and laid his head down on the cold-as-hell surface. 

Ratio, in tip-top shape, as he usually was, showed his sympathy by sliding over a mug of Aventurine’s usual hot coffee with a generous amount of creamer.

Aventurine jumbled out an exhausted thanks before he took the mug to hug it closely. So warm . Admittedly, Ratio’s attention lingered longer than it should’ve, but Aventurine didn’t notice when Ratio gave him his breakfast.

“Can I skip the lecture today?”

“Don’t think about it.”

…

The effects of the all-nighter Aventurine pulled were starting to hit him hard mid-way through the lecture. Why had he stayed up all night? Because he was a studious student studying with another studious student for their probability statistics test. 

It was not for any other reasons like watching the fourth season of Sun’s Sonata and bawling his eyes out when the love interest was forcibly torn and separated from the main protagonist, who begged for them to stay alive. Nope.

Now, the effort for Aventurine to try and keep his eyes open was the equivalent of pushing a boulder up a mountain. An insanely large boulder.

He had to hold back the animalistic urge to repeatedly smash the tip of his pen to fulfill his short-term need for stimulation. So, instead, he opted to spin the pen as quietly as he could (simultaneously impressing a couple of people sitting around him) since he was barely conscious enough to understand whatever the professor was rambling about.

Numbers. 

Equations. 

Concepts. 

Theories. 

Whatever other things were scrawled on the board.

Statistics can be so fun. So remarkably fun that the soft singing in his right earbud was the only thing keeping him alive right now. 

“You have two weeks until the next exam. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me or your TAs during office hours. That’s all.”

Alas, the heavenly words have been spoken and the lecture hall has been liberated into a busy symphony.

“Did you get any of that?” His friend, Topaz, asked while shoving a tablet into her bag.

“Not really,” Aventurine yawned and stretched his arms. “Did you?” He asked, taking the other tablet and pen to shove into his bag.

“Nope.”

“Figured. Let’s go to the campus cafe,” Aventurine suggested, evidently uninterested in his minor predicament that may lead to the downfall of his next test taking. “I heard they started serving waffle puffs with cream.”

Topaz gave an intrigued look. “Really? Since when?”

“Yesterday.”

“Huh,” Topaz hummed in thought as they both stood up and idled at their seats, waiting for the aisle to clear up. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try it out today.”

Aventurine knew that sweets had always been her kryptonite. That and her pet trotter and the stock market. “I’ll pay for the cafe this time,” Aventurine offered as they began to walk up the stairs towards the exit.

Topaz shot him an incredulous look, “This time? You already paid the last three times we went. I got it this time.”

“It’s fine. I insist.”

“ I got it.”

“Rock paper scissors.”

“Fine.”

They waved their fists three times in the air before they unleashed their weapons—Topaz being paper and Aventurine, scissors. Aventurine smugly grinned and handed her a peace sign.

“What? No—no! What the hell? I’m paying for it this time!” Topaz screeched in exasperation as she ran up the stairs like she could race Aventurine to pay for their food first.

Aventurine only laughed manically at her loss before he turned to look down the lecture hall. He skimmed across the lingering students and eventually landed on a man with blue hair talking to a group of people.

His roommate looked up towards the hall doors to see Aventurine waving at him.

Aventurine stuck his tongue out playfully. Ratio gave a mildly annoyed reaction in return.

…

It was 4:20 PM, a few hours into his shift when the bell chimed a pleasant welcome.

“Hello! Welcome,” Aventurine greeted as he finished arranging a few flowers in a vase for a custom order. He naturally slipped into his customer service mode, but he didn’t expect to see a cheery pink-haired woman who happened to be one of Stelle’s best friend.

The pink-haired woman also recognized him and flashed him a wide smile. 

“Aventurine!”

“Hey, March,” Aventurine gave a more relaxed smile. Something he thought was nice was how March’s energy could brighten the atmosphere almost instantly. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

“I’ve been doing good! Been working on my photography portfolio, heh. What about you? I didn’t know you worked here!” March beamed in curiosity. 

Aventurine chuckled. “I’m fine. I’ve been working here for a year now.”

“Really? That’s pretty amazing. I bet it’s so nice working in a shop like this.”

“My boss will appreciate your compliments,” Aventurine said with a grin. “Anyway, is there anything you’re looking for? I can help you out.”

March hummed thoughtfully, perusing through the display of flowers around the store with Aventurine accompanying her. “I’m looking for some flowers to decorate my room with—something pink and cute.”

“Ah, is that so? Do you have a particular flower in mind?” Aventurine asked. With his practiced eye, he scanned across the shop to find something that might stand out for a person like March. 

But, when his eyes dragged over to the pink batches of rose, irritation crossed his mind (not his face. He’s a good employee). It was the fiends that pricked him during his first hour when he was de-thorning them.

“Hmm,” March mused and looked right at the roses section. “Maybe…”

Please don’t say it.

“Peonies?”

Aventurine snapped out of his daze. “Peonies?”

“Yeah! Is that a little weird?” March laughed nervously. “I kept seeing pictures of people with these cute vases and pink peonies! I thought it’d be cute to have some in my room.”

Aventurine almost cried tears of joy. “Of course!” He said with an enthusiastic smile instead, guiding March over to the display full of peonies. As he expected, there was a beautiful pink batch of peonies that March gravitated to.

“This one’s really pretty!” March beamed brightly. “And it also matches my hair too.”

Aventurine chuckled lightly. “I agree. Would you like those?”

“Yes, please! I’d love a bouquet.”

“Sounds good,” Aventurine said with a pleasant tone, happily taking the peonies to the counter to do some magic. 

It hasn’t been long since he last arranged this bouquet full of peonies, but it was always rewarding to work with peonies overall. And since March was a dear friend, he decided to put the flowers in a cute vase that he thought March might like.

“And here’s your flowers,” Aventurine said as he slid the vase to March. “You only have to pay the flowers.”

March looked puzzled as she held her credit card. “What? Are you sure? I can pay for both!”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Aventurine dismissively waved with a friendly smile, ringing up the flowers.

Moved by the gesture, March grinned widely in appreciation. “Thank you, Aventurine! Next time, milk tea’s on me.”

Aventurine laughed a bit and nodded. “Sure, I’ll look forward to it,” Aventurine said. He waved as his friend happily left the store with her bouquet.

A good couple of minutes passed. Aventurine slowly eased back into a more lax state when his boss entered the quiet store. 

“Aventurine,” Jade greeted, as composed as Aventurine remembered, while Aventurine robotically pulled out his apron and started folding it. “How has the store been?”

“Busy as usual,” Aventurine said. “We have to order some more foam and wires since we’re running out of those. Oh, also wraps too.”

“I’ll keep note of that,” Jade said before she shifted her gaze between the clock on her phone and the window. “Isn’t someone supposed to be here by now?”

“ He ,” Aventurine cleared his throat for some reason. “Our schedules didn’t align today so that’s why. And besides, he doesn’t pick me up every day.”

“Yeah, is that so?” Jade chuckled lightly, accompanying Aventurine who was walking to the back of the store to retrieve his things. “Does that mean he’ll come pick you up tomorrow then?”

“I’m clocking out now!” Aventurine declared defensively like a kid telling his nagging mother off. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jade!”

Aventurine quickly made his escape from the store (and Jade) and stepped into the plaza. He wasn’t lying about the fact that Ratio didn't pick him up sometimes—especially since Ratio worked in a lab. And Aventurine didn’t mind it all that much either. 

At least that’s what he tells himself sometimes. 

But, Aventurine knew how to busy himself in solitude. Hence, he accompanied his train ride back home with a pair of headphones and became dear companions with his thoughts.

— PINK PEONIES —

Prosperity. Love. Beauty. Good luck.

They were really pretty flowers. 

Aventurine understood wholeheartedly why they are popular flowers, perhaps even why they might deserve the title “queen of flowers. Stand-alone or complemented with other blooms, Aventurine wouldn’t mind arranging another bouquet of them again.

Again, Aventurine isn’t really a flower guy. But, he did have moments where he could appreciate the flowers for what they were (except one). How they could match any occasion and a person’s aesthetic.

Perhaps, he could try his hand at making his other friends an arrangement one day. Ratio too, maybe.

Would Ratio even like flowers?

Aventurine had left the train at his stop when he spotted someone with an obnoxiously large bouquet of red flowers. So red and specific that Aventurine instantly knew what kind of flowers they were and what that occasion might be. 

Oh great, another romantic? he thought.

— THE MAN WITH A ROSE BOUQUET —

The man walked next to the trash can. The flowers fell pitifully inside.

Aventurine was stunned. But for the sake of that person’s remaining dignity, he awkwardly tried to pretend he didn’t see it as he walked past.

…

Aventurine opened the door to see Ratio sitting on the couch with a laptop on his lap. “I’m home.”

Ratio looked over at Aventurine, watching Aventurine carelessly drop his bag and peel off his shoes before Aventurine strode to the couch. Ratio raised his laptop to let Aventurine rest his legs on his lap. 

“You look tired,” Ratio commented as Aventurine gave out a deflating sigh and hugged a pillow. “Did something happen today?”

“No. Not really,” Aventurine said, aimlessly staring up at the ceiling to think. He couldn’t help but remember the person who threw away the bouquet of roses into the trash can. And it bothered him only because that looked newly made. But, whatever business they had wasn’t his business.

“What would you do if someone gave you roses?”

“Didn’t you ask me this already?”

“Yeah, but your answer sucked.”

“What do you mean my answer sucked? I said it ultimately depends on the person.”

Aventurine sat up. It took only a glance for Ratio to understand that something was bothering Aventurine.

“Say a person confessed to you with a bouquet of roses, what would you do with it?” Aventurine asked. “Would you take it or throw it away?”

Ratio furrowed his brows. “If it is someone I am not romantically interested in, then I wouldn’t accept the flowers in the first place.”

Aventurine gave a frustrated look. But, he wasn’t frustrated at Ratio’s answer. Rather, he wasn’t sure what kind of answer he wanted to hear overall.

“Something happened,” Ratio said bluntly. And as he thought, he was right on the mark when Aventurine surrendered a heavy breath and laid back on the couch. 

“Nothing happened to me personally,” Aventurine said. “I just saw someone throw away roses at the train station.”

“Throw away?”

“Yep. Right down into the trash can. I thought, damn, poor flowers when that happened.”

“I thought you didn’t like roses.”

“I don’t,” Aventurine sat back up again. “But, it’s a waste to throw away fresh flowers like that, y’know?”

There was a moment of silence shared between them. While Aventurine was dwelling in the thoughts, Ratio moved his hand to tuck Aventurine’s hair behind his ear—a familiar gesture that Ratio had a habit of doing and that Aventurine welcomed for the past few months.

“If it’s worth anything, the roses decompose and become compost,” Ratio stated, his tone a blend of matter-of-fact and consolation. “Then it’ll enrich the soil and nurture other plants. I’m sure you understand how that cycle works.”

Aventurine took a moment to register that. And when he did, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the corniness. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” If it was, then it worked. 

But, Aventurine couldn’t stop laughing, prompting Ratio to scoff and ruffle Aventurine’s hair.

“I’m going to make dinner today. Is there anything you want to eat?”

Aventurine ceased his laughing when Ratio stood up from the couch and set his laptop aside. “I can make dinner today since you made breakfast—”

Ratio interrupted Aventurine by leaning down and running his finger through Aventurine’s hair to tidy the mess he had made earlier. “Go ahead and rest for now,” Ratio said, standing straight to roll up his sleeves. “Is spaghetti fine with you?”

“Yes, but I—”

“Tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Aventurine surrendered with a sigh and laid back on the couch. His chest felt itchy when Ratio smiled at him. Aventurine watched Ratio head to the kitchen to start preparing tonight’s dinner.

— THE MAN WITH A ROSE BOUQUET PT. 2 —

The man was crying.

2.

It was some time in the morning when they sat in the cradling train—Aventurine yawning for the past five minutes while Ratio was reading off his tablet. 

“What are you reading?” Aventurine asked sleepily and leaned his head over.

Ratio glanced over. He noted that Aventurine needed something to stimulate his brain after watching his show all night. The only reason Ratio knew was that he heard it faintly through Aventurine’s door and Aventurine laughing quietly when he went to get water at 4 AM.

Ratio thought about lecturing Aventurine on the importance of a healthy sleep schedule. But, he decided to save it for later in the day.

“I’m rereading my lab report,” Ratio said, subtly tilting his tablet so Aventurine could look closer at it.

“Oh,” Aventurine tilted his head, slightly intrigued but still not awake to comprehend even a portion of the report he was trying to read. “What is your lab about? I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”

“It’s a lab that experiments with creating several unusual environments and observing how different botanical species adapt and thrive in those environments.”

“What kind of environments?”

“Zero-gravity, aquatic systems, high-radiation zones, low-atmosphere and pressure conditions, an entirely synthetic environment, etcetera.”

Aventurine’s eyes glimmered for a second, a subtle sign that he was starting to wake up. “That’s crazy. I never knew you were into that type of work. Does that mean you can grow plants inside a volcano? What about on an icy planet?”

Ratio glanced at Aventurine. “There are plants that thrive on volcanic soil and rock. As for the ice planet, there is research on how plants can grow and thrive under extreme cold conditions. So, yes, to put it simply.”

“Wow. Sounds like fun,” Aventurine hummed when a little chime shyly interrupted their conversation. Aventurine fished out his phone to check. “Sorry, give me a second. I have to text my friend about something.”

Ratio slightly nodded. While Aventurine focused on his phone, Ratio returned his attention to his tablet. He decided to catch up on the news, which he didn’t have a chance to do earlier since he was studying the lab report.

— “HANAHAKI DISEASE: DYING FROM LOVE?” —

Two days ago, a patient was admitted to the hospital where they found flowers growing inside her lungs. Magnificent lilies flourished within her, yet her heart has been suffering as she says.

Doctors and researchers are investigating similar cases of this rare phenomenon. Preliminary speculation suggests that it may be linked to the experiences of falling in love.

The medical community hopes that ongoing research will be able to provide further insight into this condition.

“Are you working on your lab remotely today?”

Ratio turned from his tablet to see Aventurine had put away his phone. Ratio briefly glanced at the train sign to see they were almost at their stop. “No, I have to work in person today,” Ratio said as he stood up. Aventurine had stood up as well. “But, I should be able to pick you up from the store on time.”

Aventurine felt mildly flustered when he recounted Jade’s teasing. “I get out of work at 2:30 PM today, so maybe I can pick you up.”

“Ah. I work until 6.”

“Oh,” Aventurine simply said as the train came to a halt. “Well, I can pick you up then instead,” Aventurine suggested with a grin. 

As they exited the train, Ratio scoffed and reached over to smooth a stray lock of Aventurine’s hair. “Didn’t you want to make dinner today?”

“Oh, right. But, I can still—”

“Um…! Excuse me!”

A third voice interrupted their conversation sharply. They both turn over to see a young woman with a reddened face and an excited gaze.

“Are you Veritas Ratio by any chance?” The woman stammered out.

“I am, yes,” Ratio said, and he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was annoyed by an interaction he didn’t welcome. Unfortunately for him, the stranger didn’t catch the cue.

Meanwhile, Aventurine side-eyed Ratio before glancing at the woman who pulled her phone out. It was like he was a spectator to a scene in a drama. 

Unfortunately for Ratio, Aventurine was curious to watch this unfold, especially when this was the first time he had seen Ratio getting hit on.

“I, um…! We go to the same university and—and I’ve been seeing you around! We have the same physics lecture too and…ah,” The woman stumbled on her words before she finally gathered her courage. “I wanted to ask you if I can get your phone numbe—”

“ No ,” Ratio cut her off sharply. The tone threw the woman and even Aventurine off guard. Without hesitation, Ratio grabbed onto Aventurine’s shoulder, startling the latter. “We have a lecture to attend now. Have a good day.”

The sudden direction of that conversation was not what Aventurine was expecting. But, Ratio steered them both away to make their exit before the woman could interrupt them again.

“Ouch, that one hurt,” Aventurine remarked with a wry smile, implying the flat-out rejection that the woman experienced.

“Sorry,” Ratio apologized, immediately removing his hand. “Did I hurt you?”

Aventurine shook his head. “No, no. But, damn. Aren’t you cold?” Aventurine nudged at Ratio’s arm teasingly. “Getting someone to ask you for your phone number and you just turn them down just like that in public? Yiiikes, what a cold man you are. I almost feel bad for her.”

Ratio’s brows creased in annoyance at earlier’s ordeal. “I don’t see why I should give my number to someone I don’t even know. If anything, she should’ve been more mindful of the setting because of outcomes like that. Now, stop looking like you’re going to laugh and get a move on.”

“Yeah, yeah. By the way, can I have your number too?”

“Move. On! ”

…

It was a funny thing to note that while they do have the same lecture, they both sit in entirely different sections of the room. Ratio preferred the front-row seats for a closer engagement with the lessons while Aventurine dwelled in the back of the room in case he fell asleep.

So, after a long hour of probability statistics, the lecture ended, and Ratio began packing his bag. 

Even though the distance was huge, Ratio could easily spot Aventurine staring at him with a smug grin. When they locked eye contact, Aventurine’s grin grew wider and he tapped on his phone.

Immediately, Ratio understood what that gesture meant and he audibly clicked his tongue. 

“Av—”

“ Ratio!”

Annoyance settled in his skin for a particularly different reason when he turned to see Herta already making her way up the stairs. “Hurry up, we have to go!” The puppet woman demanded.

Ratio sighed heavily as he trudged up the stairs, glancing over to see Aventurine winking at him and sticking his tongue out playfully. There was a moment when Ratio thought about doing something with Aventurine’s tongue, but decided to bury that thought deep in his head as he exited the hall.

“Have you seen my pen anywhere?” Topaz asked, who had been looking down at the floor and shoveling in her bag the whole time. “I swear I had it with me.”

Aventurine spun a pen around. He wondered how long it would take for her to notice where it went. But, it had been 15 minutes and only 5 when she noticed it was gone.

“What does it look like?” Aventurine asked, playing innocent. 

“It’s red. Has a little trotter on top of it. What the heck? I could’ve sworn I had it.”

Aventurine raised a pen—red with a cute-looking trotter cap on top of it. Topaz instantly lit up with relief.

“Yeah! Where was it?”

“I had it with me this whole time.”

“Aventurine, I swear to—”

…

It was the afternoon when Ratio entered the lab to see one of his coworkers, a woman with a brown hair bun, delicately tapping away on a floating screen. 

“Mr. Ratio,” Ruan Mei greeted.

Ratio exchanged the greeting with a simple nod. He set his bag down and moved towards the workstation so he could review the information displayed on the series of holographic screens. “The professor said we have a new environment to test, correct?”

“Correct,” Ruan Mei answered before she walked towards the window of an empty observation tank. “We have to simulate a human-like system and analyze the species that can grow within there.”

“Surely, the professor has told you why, right?” A third voice, belonging to a puppet woman, echoed from upstairs. She must’ve finished collecting samples from their other experiments.

Ratio raised a stack of papers in his hands as an answer. They were all patient cases the professor provided as materials and background studies for the research.

Since the resurgence of cases involving the Hanahaki Disease, universities across the universe have contributed to the ongoing research in hopes of shedding more light on a condition that lacked a definitive treatment. Naturally, Ratio and his lab were now involved in this and Ratio was more than happy to participate if it meant he could help save a patient.

“We need to replicate the biological and physiological parameters of the human body. Then, we’ll need to integrate a mental and emotional variable as well as any other internal and external factors into our model,” Ratio explained as he skimmed through his notes jotted in a notebook. “Given the complexity of developing this new environment, we should analyze the patient notes to determine other conditions needed for the simulation.”

Ruan Mei hummed in thought. “We should define the biological parameters first before introducing other factors. Since we’ll create this new environment from scratch, it might take us a week or two to set it up properly.”

Herta traveled down the stairs to meet her coworkers at the workstation. “We can set up preliminary simulations to test the model and debug,” Herta said as she peeked over at the case file Ratio was reading. “I’d reckon we’ll finish by next Friday.”

“I’ll work on refining the parameters and make necessary adjustments so we are accurately working with our conditions similar to the disease,” Ratio replied as Herta looked through the stack of papers on the desk. 

“Aren’t you going to have a field day with this one?” Herta joked in a bored tone. And she wasn’t exactly wrong to imply that Ratio was going to be studying the hell out of all of these for the next few weeks. Or months.

…

It was 7 PM when Ratio flickered through his tablet, glaring down at the words intently while he walked home.

— CASE #210 —

The patient has reported recurring nightmares and intrusive thoughts. At this stage, the hydrangeas have grown to fill 50% of his lungs.

They have a moderately difficult time breathing and frequent coughing outbursts with flower blooms coming out of their mouth.

Ratio knew there were countless strange and unknown phenomena in the universe. Admittedly, while he was trying hard to understand this condition, he was unfortunately a man who too has difficulties wrapping his head around certain aspects of things: The medical notes were so frustratingly vague to study from that if he could, he would demand to interview a patient himself.

But, one common thing noted through all the cases was a “romantic interest”. More specifically, they were interested in someone that they believed was “unobtainable” or “out of their league”. 

There was a difference between the cured and slowly recovering versus a suffering patient. The patients cured and slowly recovering mentioned an event with the interest that afterward, they started to feel better. But, the patients weren’t sure exactly why they felt better and the notetakers themselves looked like they had no clue either (to add to Ratio’s frustrations further). 

Ratio would’ve ruled the event to some sort of confession or emotional release between the patient and the interest. However, there were other cases where the patients have died even after experiencing similar events. 

If I was a doctor, I’d be able to figure this out faster. Ratio thought as he unlocked his apartment door.

“I’m home,” Ratio said, opening the door. But, instead of a chirpy response, Ratio spotted his roommate curled up on the couch and passed out.

Ratio had come to notice that Aventurine liked taking naps on the couch more than his own bed, for reasons unknown to him. He wasn’t exactly worried that he’ll wake Aventurine up (because the man can sleep through anything), but more of the fact that Aventurine’s going to wake up sore and achy.

He sighed softly as he set his bag down and glanced over at the kitchen to see Aventurine had made dinner: a pot of cream chicken soup that was steaming hot. But, Ratio didn’t gravitate to the food and instead, walked over to the couch.

Ratio thought about waking Aventurine up and urging him to go to bed. Yet, he didn’t dare to break the peaceful sleep that Aventurine was in right now.

Therefore, Ratio leaned down and carefully ruffled Aventurine’s hair before he took an unused pillow to tuck it underneath Aventurine’s head. He slowly removed Aventurine’s phone threatening to fall from his hand.

Ratio tried brushing Aventurine’s bangs from his face when Aventurine mumbled quietly and leaned into Ratio’s hand, nuzzling it almost. An unconscious action, but enough to make Ratio smile quietly to himself.

What kind of flowers would you like?

Ratio wondered as he took a flower petal out of Aventurine’s hair.

3.

The campus cafe was bustling on an afternoon weekday. At one table sat two students with their laptops and tablets out—one mentally swimming through his mind and the other scrolling through her phone instead of studying like they were both supposed to.

After recalling some things last night (and how terribly boring it was to study off of quizzes for the past hour), Aventurine couldn’t help but be distracted for a bit.

Yesterday he stumbled into work in the middle of a rush hour. Jade had practically shoved his work apron into his arms and deployed him to battle the swarm of customers. Not to mention, he had to help train a new employee—a white-bluish hair girl with the charisma of an idol, to settle into her new job. 

The new employee, Robin, wasn’t hard to train at all. In terms of customer service, she practically excelled at it. But, Aventurine still had some things to teach her like wrapping up a bouquet properly, trimming, pruning, etcetera.

Again, not that hard. But, getting thrown into the field full of customers begging for arrangements (something about prime time for weddings) and juggling training had him coming home like a plant that hadn’t touched water in years.

Despite the exhaustion, Aventurine tried to muster as much energy he had left over to cook the dinner he promised Ratio. He initially thought about doing takeout, but ordering takeout after promising to cook would probably leave a bad taste, and the last thing he wanted to do to Ratio was that.

At some point after cooking, he dropped dead onto the couch and passed the hell out. 

That was it. Until, he woke up to something—someone, patting his head, lifting his head, and putting a pillow underneath him. Aventurine didn’t open his eyes for whatever reason. And he didn’t have to; he knew it was Ratio.

Was Aventurine weird for pretending he was asleep? Probably. But, in his defense, he passed out again until Ratio woke him up for dinner. So, he was not weird.

Topaz broke Aventurine’s immersion with his thoughts when she shifted in her seat intently.

“Have you heard about the disease with flowers?”

“Allergies,” Aventurine said blankly.

Topaz gave him an unamused glance before she slid her phone on the table to Aventurine. “Not allergies. It’s a disease where you vomit flowers.”

Aventurine graced himself with an extra five-minute break, putting his pen down to take Topaz’s phone.

— TODAY’S NEWS —

A young woman was admitted to the hospital where they found yellow chrysanthemums in her lungs, a strange condition identified as the Hanahaki Disease.

Tragically, she passed a couple of hours after due to asphyxiation caused by the floral growths.

The causes and potential cures for this condition are currently under investigation.

Aventurine squinted in mild curiosity. “Flowers?”

Topaz leaned forward, intrigue blatantly obvious in her demeanor. “Rumors say that you get the disease when you’re in love with someone and that person doesn’t love you back. Like a disease for unrequited love. Which means,” She tapped on her phone screen, “she might’ve died because that person didn’t love her back.”

Aventurine squinted again, this time more skeptical when he tried to piece together all the information Topaz had said. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m not!”

“What if this person ate some parasitic species that happened to grow inside the body? Like cordyceps or fungus or something. Y’know, the zombies.”

“That’s zombies and fungi. But, these are actual flowers coming out of a human being,” Topaz tapped her finger eagerly at a specific word to make a point. “Chrysanthemums, Aven.”

Aventurine slid the phone back to Topaz. “Okay, realistically speaking, how would flowers grow in your lungs if you haven’t ingested anything parasitic?”

Topaz crossed her arms. “Well, if it was a parasitic flower that someone ingested, wouldn’t it already have been found by researchers? I’m sure the entire universe has geniuses that can find something like that in a human body by now. But, this is a phenomenon for a reason and no one has figured out how or why.”

Aventurine let out a laugh, but he was still unconvinced. Oh, man. Realism wasn't his thing but his roommate might’ve been rubbing on him a little bit.

“Fine, you got me there. But, do you think it’s logical for flowers to just randomly grow in your body after falling in love?”

“It’s not, but here we are, right?” Topaz shrugged casually as she took her phone back to scroll through the rest of the article.

Aventurine pondered with a long hum, tilting his head to stare at the window. “Unrequited love as a disease,” Aventurine murmured quietly. “Maybe Ratio knows something about this.”

It was a simple thought spoken out loud. But, when Aventurine looked back at his friend, Topaz was staring at him with her mouth agape.

“Ratio? Veritas Ratio?”

“Yeah,” Aventurine trailed, dragging the syllable since Topaz’s reaction wasn’t something he expected. “Why? You know him?”

Topaz raised her brows, flabbergasted. “Have you not heard of him before?”

“He’s my roommate.”

“You’re living with Veritas Ratio ?”

“Yes…yes? Yeah?”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not…?”

“There’s no way. How long?”

“Almost a year now. Do you two know each other or something?”

When it came to information about someone, Topaz excelled at digging and collecting it. Such as when she pointed at a red-headed woman and told him that she was a famous streamer with a huge fanbase. Or when they met with one of her professors and she nearly fangirled because the professor was a renowned, brilliant scientist that traveled across the universe (Aventurine didn’t know Topaz could surpass her highest note until she squealed “ Himeko! ” when they saw her walk into the room).

So, it shouldn’t be a surprise to him when Topaz typed like a maniac and shoved her phone in front of his face all in a split second. It took Aventurine a good second to proess what had just happened before he finally took the phone from her.

Some of his friends were popular people. For example, the social butterfly Stelle who somehow knew every single individual on campus. Topaz was popular herself and she happened to be dedicated to a professional business club.  So, it hardly surprised him when he would see pictures of them floating around on his socials.

But, god , you know what’s weird?

Seeing pictures of his roommate all over a huge forum. Like, borderline paparazzi type of work. The pictures weren’t provocative or invasive—mostly pictures of him around campus doing some work in a classroom or some other setting (some sort of debate from what it looked like).

— A FEW POSTS ON CAMPUS HIGHLIGHTS —

1. Ratio was the only person who scored 110% on one of the hardest engineering exams! He’s so cool…

2. He corrected my professor on a concept and truly humbled them throughout the lesson. The funny part was that Ratio explained it so well that the whole lecture hall and professor was applauding him

3. Ratio’s a genius and an attractive one at that. Do you think he’ll sign my notebook?

4. Dear Scholar God, please grace me your wisdom and let me pass this test

The more Aventurine  scrolled, the more curious and awkward he felt as he came across more and more posts and is he committing an invasion of privacy here?

“He’s…really that popular,” Aventurine commented blankly. His brain could hardly process the amount of information of the man that was his roommate , who he was living with right now .

“Yeah, he’s practically the perfect picture of what a genius is,” Topaz said as she took her phone when Aventurine slid it back to her. “But, Ratio’s also known for not socializing with anyone . Or, rather, he picks and chooses very specific people to interact with outside of academics. I’d imagine that his criteria of a roommate would reflect that as well.”

“Paz. You can just say that he doesn’t look like he’d talk to me at all.”

“I’m just trying to say it nicer for you.”

Aventurine sighed before he glanced at his watch. It was almost time to head home. “I know what you mean though,” Aventurine said, starting to pack his things. “I’m surprised too whenever I think about it sometimes.”

Topaz hummed in curiosity, packing her belongings as well. “Well, what’s it like living with him?”

“Not what I expected, honestly. I thought he’d be a lot stricter about things. But, he’s reliable,” Aventurine said. “He makes good food and he’s also fun to talk to and mess around with sometimes.”

There were the other things too like whenever Ratio would let Aventurine talk his ear off, or when Aventurine forced Ratio to watch the entire show of Sun’s Sonata with him in the living room. Or when Ratio made Aventurine do a semester’s worth of tests to study for an exam and drill concepts into his head.

Or how Ratio would smile at certain times, how Ratio would try to fix his hair, or when Ratio would—

“Yeah, he’s fun,” Aventurine quickly blurted out to interrupt his thoughts before it got weird. 

Topaz raised a brow, unimpressed. “Fun is not an adjective I’d expect to hear someone describe Ratio. But, y’know what, as long as you’re alive.”

Aventurine laughed sheepishly. They stood up from their table and began to make their way out of the cafe.  “Where are you heading to now?” Aventurine asked.

Topaz sighed loudly. “I’m going home. I haven’t seen my cute Numby since the morning so I’m gonna spoil the hell out of him. What about you?”

— A CONVERSATION FROM TWO UNRELATED PEOPLE WALKING PAST THEM —

“And then we stopped talking.”

“What? Why?”

“I only saw him as a friend. But, after he confessed, I rejected him and things got weird after that.”

“Weren’t you guys so close?”

“Yeah, but it’s awkward now. This is probably for the better anyways, I wouldn’t know what to say to him anymore.”

“Aven?”

Aventurine realized Topaz was a few steps ahead of him, which also made him realize that he had stopped walking.

“Sorry, I thought I lost my phone,” Aventurine laughed apologetically as he quickly caught up to his friend. “What were you saying?”

…

Ratio skimmed through the PDFs on his phone as he idled at the gates of the campus. The more words he read on his phone, the more his confusion increased. And the more his confusion increased, the more his head was hurting because of his frustration to not understand fast enough.

— CASE #341 —

The surgery is successful, and the patient is stable and sound. There are no remnants of tulips left in their lungs.

However, when [REDACTED] visited the patient, the patient did not recognize them and expressed confusion. Nurses have inquired if the patient has recalled [REDACTED] visiting them before. The patient does not.

When inquired about other individuals and family members, the patient recalled their memories and relationships with accurate recollection.

Before he could read further, something blocked his view from the screen. Or, rather, something was covering his eyes from behind.

“Guess who?”

Ratio let out a sigh, but quietly, his head was thankful to finally take a break from reading (or that the person has finally arrived). Ratio shoved his phone away and grasped both hands covering his eyes, gently pulling them away. “Your arms and feet are going to hurt,” He said as he turned around, and yep—Aventurine has gained a few inches.

“You were supposed to guess,” Aventurine clicked his tongue in dramatic disbelief, planting his feet flat on the ground and moving his hands away when Ratio released it. “Anyways, I got you a present.”

Ratio watched Aventurine swiftly dug into his bag to pull out a smaller takeout bag with the campus cafe logo stamped on it.

“It’s a bruschetta chicken sandwich. I think it’s the one you usually order,” Aventurine said, widely grinning. 

Aventurine was correct; this was usually the order that Ratio would get when they visited the cafe together. But, it was back when they weren’t living together—when Ratio would study with a sandwich and coffee, and Aventurine would pop in and slide into the empty chair with a wide grin. 

It was when they eventually made it a routine to meet in the cafe and Ratio would order the bruschetta sandwich and a black coffee, while Aventurine would buy the new thing that appeared in the menu. And that was before they moved in together.

Meaning, the last time Ratio ordered the sandwich was almost a year ago.

“Thank you,” Ratio said with a small smile, taking the bag and pulling out the sandwich to bite it. Aventurine flashed him a smile and they start their usual route to the plaza.

“How was your lab today?” Aventurine asked.

“It was busy,” Ratio said. He tilted his sandwich over to Aventurine, who looked at Ratio in quiet confusion until Ratio gestured with his eyes. Aventurine leaned in to take a bite. “We’ve had difficulty setting up our new environment, so we’re trying to work our way through it. How was your studying?”

Aventurine, with a mouth full of food, nervously averted his eyes away. Ratio narrowed his eyes.

“Aventurine.”

“I did—” Aventurine quickly swallowed his food. “I did study! I swear.”

“Really? So, if I quiz you one question, you’d be able to solve it easily. Right?”

“Okay, you’re asking a little bit too much there.”

Ratio sighed in disbelief and shook his head. He gestured for Aventurine to take another bite of his sandwich, to which Aventurine accepted sheepishly. “We can study together and you can tell me which topics you’re having trouble with.”

Aventurine groaned and leaned his head on Ratio’s shoulder. “Can we study tomorrow instead?”

“Be serious with your academics now.”

“I am, I am. I just don’t feel like studying today. Spare me mercy, Scholar God.”

Ratio, in the middle of finishing his sandwich, paused. His face shifted from being disappointed to being confused in one moment.

“Scholar what?”

“Scholar G—“ 

The atoms in his brain finally worked faster than his mouth, and Aventurine immediately shut himself up. If it weren’t for the atoms, Aventurine would’ve emphasized the name and make a whole dramatic joke about how Ratio was called the ‘Scholar God’. 

But, Ratio was giving him the “ what did you say” face, and there was no way Aventurine was going to explain where he saw that name right now.

“Go—uh, wow!” Aventurine bursted out, grabbing Ratio’s free hand and holding it. “Where did you get your rings from? It looks so nice! Really fits you and your fashion sense!”

Ratio, his brows further furrowing in confusion at the sudden change in reaction (and not because Aventurine was holding his hand), looked at the two golden rings adorned on his thumb and middle finger. “I got it from a shop back when I studied abroad in sophomore year.”

Aventurine awe’d as he shifted the ring around intently, examining it like a jeweler would with a gem. “It looks pretty high-end. Really suits you.”

 Ratio wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell Aventurine that Aventurine’s hand was warm, that Aventurine’s hand and fingers are smaller than his own, and that if they pressed their palms together, Ratio could curl the top of his fingers over Aventurine’s.

He didn’t say it. Instead, Ratio said, “Do you want to try it on?”

Aventurine squinted in surprise. “Are you sure? Isn’t it an expensive ring?”

“It’s fine,” Ratio insisted. He watched Aventurine sheepishly taking his ring off of his middle finger and carefully sliding it onto his own hand. 

To Ratio, the golden ring looked plain at most. It was simply an accessory he wore most days. But, there was something about the way it loosely wrapped around Aventurine’s ring finger that provoked a thought in his head.

“Hey, look at that,” Aventurine grinned as he lifted his hand slightly to observe the ring that sat comfortably at the bottom of his finger. “As I expected. It’s a little loose since your fingers are bigger than mine. But, it doesn’t look that bad. Right? What do you think?”

Ratio didn’t respond right away. Aventurine was about to laugh when he figured Ratio was silently reacting to his antics like how he usually would.

So, when Aventurine looked up, ready to be amused, it wasn’t what he was expecting.

— THERE ARE CERTAIN TIMES WHEN RATIO SMILES: ACCORDING TO AVENTURINE —

1. When Ratio so exasperated that all he could do is smile

2. When Ratio has finally figured out a solution to something he was stumped on

3. When Ratio is reading something really interesting

4. Sometimes at random

5. When Ratio is looking at his ring…?*

* Aventurine doesn’t know what this certain smile meant because he has never seen it before.

“It looks good,” Ratio commented as he took Aventurine’s hand to examine the ring closer. 

“Ah, right?” Aventurine stammered—stammered? He wanted to make a joke. But, instead, he had to focus his energy to make sure his hand wasn’t shaking from the nervousness that swelled in his chest. Why was he so jittery all of the sudden?

“Perhaps we can go abroad together and find the shop if we get a chance to. I’m sure they have some jewelry there that might catch your interest,” Ratio said. 

It was a simple suggestion for a fun excursion they could do together. And if this was said 5 minutes ago, Aventurine would say yes without hesitation. 

But, Aventurine didn’t. Instead, he had to bite his tongue quickly before he could blurt out something that could suggest he would be way too excited to go abroad with Ratio. 

“That…would be cool,” Aventurine strained out as coolly as he could. But, as Ratio glanced up at Aventurine, Aventurine glanced away at a random direction, his heart racing faster than before. 

“Hey, hey! Why don’t we go that way?” Aventurine exclaimed and tapped Ratio quickly on the arm.

Ratio furrowed his brows. “What?”

Aventurine jabbed a finger down an unfamiliar street. “We haven’t gone exploring before, so why not? Besides, it looks promising down there. C'mon!” Aventurine grabbed Ratio’s arm and quickly dragged him to their new destination before Ratio could try and say something.

Unbeknownst to him, Ratio wasn’t planning to argue.

…

The best thing about not having a destination was discovering new ones along the way.

So, when the sun has quietly set, they stood at their stop: A plaza adorned with beautiful flowers, vibrant trees, and crystal-water of the river underneath them. Marvelous would be an understatement to describe a place like this.

A gentle breeze kissed them both as they walked onto a bridge where a waterfall flowed over them elegantly like a veil, cascading down into the river below.

“How did we miss this place?” Aventurine smiled lightly as he extended his hand out to touch the waterfall—cold but a pleasant kind of cold. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ratio nodded quietly. But, while Aventurine’s eyes lingered at the scenery, Ratio’s eyes lingered to the blonde locks and the smile that suggested serenity .

“I think we hit the jackpot with this place,” Aventurine grinned as he tapped his fingers playfully on the railings. “We should come by here more often. Maybe we can eat lunch here or feed the ducks.”

“Don’t use this as an excuse to skip out on your studies.”

“I won’t, I won’t! Trust. And besides, wouldn’t it be nice to hang out here?”

“I suppose it would be.”

Aventurine felt his hair get tucked behind his ear—a familiar gesture from Ratio. He glanced over to Ratio to say something and there it was.

The same smile that Ratio had when he looked at the ring on Aventurine’s finger. Except, this time Ratio wasn’t looking at the ring, nor the trees or the flowers or the waterfall or the river—no, Ratio was looking at him?

An unfamiliar heat warmed his face. Aventurine opened his mouth to say something—to try and make a joke before Ratio would notice. Except, Aventurine stumbled a syllable, and his hand slipped on the rail.

“Ow—!” Aventurine winced as his arm banged against the railing and nearly lost his footing until Ratio grabbed his other arm to keep him steady. But, before Ratio could ask if he was okay, Aventurine’s eyes widened when he saw a golden glint falling into the water.

“Oh, shit—” Aventurine uttered out, his heart sinking. “I’m so sorry.”

Ratio released Aventurine’s arm. He had saw the ring slip off from Aventurine’s finger, but he only shook his head and sighed calmly. “That’s fine. Are you okay thou—Aventurine!”

In a moment, Aventurine was climbing over the railing hastily—stricken with nothing more than immense panic. Before Ratio could grab his arm to stop him, Aventurine suddenly dove right into the river.

" Aven—!"

Ratio’s loud voice was overshadowed by the water invading his ears, suppressing any noises from the outside. The pressure of the river weighed his body down, but Aventurine desperately looked around until he saw a faint shine.

Aventurine swam deeper and deeper, kicking his legs and pushing the water back with his arms. His lungs began to burn, and he flailed his hands in the heavy water until something slipped into his palm. 

Thank god, Aventurine thought, grabbing it tightly. But, his throat tightened painfully. 

— HE IS A DECENT SWIMMER —

An overstatement.

Aventurine tried to swim upwards, clawing at the water and kicking his feet. But, he didn’t know how deep he swum down this river and his body was burning up. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he was swimming or sinking.

His throat tightened. 

Then, he choked. 

A hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him up. An arm wrapped around his waist, and Aventurine could feel the pressure of the water surging past him right until he broke onto the surface.

Aventurine gasped and coughed madly as he was pulled across the water all the way onto the bank. He laid on the ground, panting, when he saw Ratio looming over him, drenched and with a glare.

“What in the world were you thinking?” Ratio scolded angrily—and Aventurine could definitely tell Ratio was angry . “What made you think that it was a good idea to dive right into the river? Are you kidding me?”

Aventurine coughed out water before he tiredly opened his palm to reveal the golden ring. “Sorry,” Aventurine strained out, trying to gasp for air. “I didn’t want you to lose it since I took it from you after all.”

“You could’ve—” Ratio stopped. The corner of Ratio’s lips quivered and his eyes creased. Aventurine could see Ratio’s face shift from anger to frustration to immense concern to a mix of all of the above. After a brief silence, Ratio sighed heavily.

“Are you okay?” Ratio asked with a low voice. 

Aventurine only stared up and the vibrations of Ratio’s voice enveloped him warmly. He wasn’t sure why the glare—now a gaze had his heart running again.

He merely nodded. Ratio sighed again—this time, more relieved than angry.

“I don’t mind if you lose my things. But, don’t endanger yourself like that next time. Understand?”

Aventurine tiredly laughed, “Yeah, got it.”

Ratio simply nodded and brushed Aventurine's wet bangs away from his eyes. It was a familiar gesture, but Aventurine felt a trail of heat from where Ratio touched his forehead.

— A SYMPTOM —

His chest hurts.

Chapter Text

dahlias

4.

It was the next morning when Aventurine stirred awake with a headache. Thankfully, it was not a raging headache where every second felt like pure agony. But, his head was throbbing enough to where it made him feel a tad bit irritated.

He rubbed his face into the pillow and coughed quietly.

It had been a while since he had gotten sick—two years, as he would like to proudly flaunt. But, after jumping into the river and not showering for an hour, he supposed that it was about time the consequences of his actions caught up with him.

The alarm blared harshly into his ears, disturbing his silent Saturday suffering and aggravating his headache to strike him with a vengeance.

Aventurine groaned and shoved his face deeper into his pillow. He gave it a good minute to sing before he blindly moved his hand on his nightstand, tapping his hand around until he found his phone to shut off the unholy choir.

Precisely another minute later, there was a knock.

Aventurine chanted the language of gibberish and buried into the blankets when his door creaked opened (slowly—as if gauging to see if Aventurine would allow him in).

“I know you’re awake.”

Aventurine stayed nestled within the blankets as the shuffles drew closer to his bed. There was a soft tap on his shoulder that tested to see if he was truly awake.

“How ominous,” Aventurine teased, his voice muffled by the cocoon of blankets. “That’s a line taken straight out of horror movies.”

An exasperated grumble. “Instead of thinking about horror movies, you should get up and think about having your first meal.”

“Hm. Convince me to leave the confines of my safe haven.”

Aventurine heard a loud sigh. He felt tapping on his shoulder again, but it was the let-me-think kind of tapping.

How kind of his roommate to entertain him so early in the morning. Aventurine would’ve left his bed after Ratio’s expressed disapproval of his antics, but the tapping had him intrigued. Hence, Aventurine decided to wait patiently to see what offer (or threat) Ratio could concoct in that smart brain of his.

Force him to study a year’s worth of quizzes? Eat his breakfast? 

Maybe Ratio would watch a few seasons of Sun’s Sonata with him. Or perhaps Ratio would be at his mercy for the rest of the day. Or—

The blankets were pulled down, allowing a rush of cold air to invade his warm cocoon. 

Aventurine shivered, squinting as the light attacked his groggy vision, forcing him to blink until reality came into focus: Ratio was kneeling in front of him, holding up a black box.

Immediately, Aventurine lit up with excitement.

“My package!” Aventurine exclaimed, reaching out eagerly. “Thank you for—”

Aventurine’s finger barely grazed the box when Ratio swerved it away from his grasp, catching him off-guard. Aventurine narrowed his eyes and tried to swipe for it again, only for Ratio to suddenly stand up—making the box completely out of reach.

Aventurine clicked his tongue, and Ratio tilted his head with a deadpan stare—except after living with Ratio for nearly a year, Aventurine knew the man was oozing with smugness.

“Blackmailer.”

“I only played your game,” Ratio replied flatly, turning around. Aventurine sighed tiredly and dragged himself out of bed, trailing behind Ratio to their cozy little kitchen.

The morning light danced with the cold air in the apartment, making Aventurine shiver slightly in his sweater. Aventurine sank into the chair at the island and rested his cheek on the table—which is just as cold as the air that Aventurine peeled away from it instead.

Ratio placed the box on the table—the grand prize for leaving the bed, allowing Aventurine to finally grasp onto his beloved package.

“What’s for breakfast?” Aventurine asked as Ratio rounded the kitchen to retrieve two prepared bowls of hearty food that were sitting on the countertop.

“Rice with marinated beef,” Ratio said. He placed the bowls on the island and glanced over to see Aventurine beaming with excitement as he admired the box.

“The box is simple, but it feels expensive,” Aventurine remarked with a curious smile. The texture of it felt like velvet in a way—which he supposed is expected from the fancy online store he bought it from. 

Ratio moved to slide into the chair next to Aventurine when Aventurine opened up the box to carefully pull out the item: A golden laurel clip that gleamed as bright as the morning sun.

“What do you think?” Aventurine asked as he held up the item towards Ratio. Ratio  could hear the soft hum of satisfaction, which had him observe the laurel clip more closely. “Doesn’t it look nice?”

“I suppose so,” Ratio simply commented. “What is it?”

“It’s a hair clip. It’s supposed to resemble something like a laurel wreath crown, which was a symbolism for…”

“Triumph and victory.”

“Yeah. that,” Aventurine grinned widely. 

Ratio sighed softly as he gently shoved a spoonful of food into Aventurine’s mouth before the latter would forget about eating. He watched as Aventurine chewed deliberately, savoring both the taste of the food and the shine of the laurel hair clip.

Frankly, Ratio was slightly curious what the accessory would look like on Aventurine. At most, he had seen Aventurine wear bracelets and flashy earrings. But, normally, Aventurine would put on simple earrings and leave it at that. Hence, his curiosity.

But, a minute ticked by and Aventurine didn’t make a move to put it on.

Instead, Aventurine quietly asked, “Do you like it?”

Ratio blinked, taken aback. “What?”

Aventurine hesitated, shifting his eyes to his bowl of food while he tried to gather his thoughts. 

“I saw this online and thought that it might be something you would like and that it might suit you,” Aventurine said, and he returned the eye contact with a sheepish smile. “I wanted to get you a small gift since, well, why not? But, I probably should’ve asked you beforehand since everyone has their own preferences in accessories and all…”

Aventurine trailed off, slowly ending his ramble with incomprehensible, awkward gibberish of attempted justification.

Ratio didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he continued to stare at the golden laurel cradled carefully in Aventurine’s hands. 

“I believe you have a better idea of how it’s supposed to be worn,” Ratio finally said, resting his back against the chair with a soft sigh. “I trust your judgment.”

Aventurine blinked in surprise. Then, he let out a small laugh—dissolving whatever awkwardness he had earlier. “You sure you want me to do it for you? What if I do something to you?”

“I don’t see what other things you would do.”

“Poke you in the eye or pinch your face.”

“I’d advise that you don’t try to do that.”

Aventurine hummed teasingly. “No guarantees,” He joked, standing up from his chair and leaning closer with the laurel in hand.

Ratio tilted his head down to help Aventurine with the angle to make it easier for Aventurine to position the clip. He felt Aventurine’s fingers glide through his hair, smoothing out the curls carefully. There was a ticklish sensation that followed the fingers, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

As Ratio lowered his gaze, his eyes landed on Aventurine’s neck, where the messy locks of blonde hair tangled together. Slowly, he trailed his eyes down, making the creases and the wrinkles that scattered all over Aventurine’s shirt.

A soft humming reached his ears—the soundtrack music of Sun’s Sonata where the lovers danced in the rain. Ratio distinctly remembered that scene from when Aventurine had played it in the living room a long while back.

It also happened to be the only time where he saw Aventurine crying. There wasn’t an emotional outburst, nor sobbing or a tearful exclamation of joy.

It was just quiet—only Aventurine staring at the screen with a tear streaking down his face and whispering a silent thanks when Ratio handed him a tissue. 

A part of Ratio wanted to ask what Aventurine was thinking about, or why he was crying at that scene. But instead, Ratio sat next to Aventurine quietly as the lovers danced on the screen. 

And, it seemed like Aventurine appreciated it—the silence—with the way he rested his head on Ratio’s shoulder while the music played softly in the apartment.

Ratio heard a little click and felt a new weight on the side of his head as Aventurine moved his hands away.

“How is it?” Aventurine asked. Ratio glanced up to see Aventurine’s eyes lit up brightly—a hint of excitement and proud satisfaction.

Ratio reached to touch the golden gift on his hair, his fingers brushing against the warm metal. “It’s fine.”

Aventurine’s smile widened. “As I expected, it looks good on you. You should check it out yourself in the mirror.”

“I’ll do it after we eat,” Ratio said, lowering his hand to rest on the counter. 

He figured that that was it, as much as he wanted Aventurine to stay and for him to lean in and rest his head on Aventurine’s chest. But, the parting does not happen because Ratio had noticed Aventurine’s gaze lingering on him intently—curiously.

“Do you wear red eyeliner?” Aventurine asked.

“No, I don’t,” Ratio replied, seeing Aventurine tilt his head in subtle confusion. “It’s a birthmark.”

“A birthmark?” Aventurine’s brow shot up, his tone mixed with skepticism and excitement. “Really? It looks like you drew it on yourself.”

“You’re free to touch it.”

Aventurine widened his eyes, surprised by the invitation. But, Ratio didn’t waver, making it clear that Ratio was truly offering it up on the table that he’ll satisfy Aventurine’s curiosity. 

Slowly, Aventurine reached his hand out. “Excuse me then,” He murmured.

Ratio closed one eye when Aventurine gently brushed his thumb on top of his eyelid. The touch was cool, delicate, and polite, despite Aventurine’s earlier excitement and curiosity. 

“Oh, you’re right. It doesn’t come off.”

Ratio closed his other eye when Aventurine brushed against it. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?” Ratio asked as if he was appeasing a small cat.

Aventurine, the cat in question, pulled his hands away with a satisfied hum,” It did. Thank you for being my test subject,” he joked as Ratio opened his eyes.

“And thank you for your gift,” Ratio replied with a slight smile.

For a moment, Aventurine caught Ratio’s intent gaze—noticing how deep the color of Ratio’s eyes are. 

Well, he knew about it since he is living with Ratio. But for some reason, his breath hitched and his chest tightened. Then, he realized that his hands were warm—hot, even.

Fortunately, Ratio hadn’t mentioned his moment of disassociation. Instead, he heard Ratio ask, “Did you not get anything for yourself?”

“No,” Aventurine responded, clearing his throat in an attempt to remove the sudden, antsy feeling swelling in his throat.

“Really,” Ratio remarked, a hint of surprise in his otherwise flat tone. “With the quality of this, I figured that you’d also buy something yourself to wear, right?”

“I didn’t really think about it.”

“Why didn’t you? I’m sure something like this would suit you.”

— SHYNESS —  

noun

The state where the words are lodged somewhere between his thoughts and his mouth.

“Oh, really? You think so?” Aventurine laughed awkwardly—until he realized he asked a perfectly respondable question. Before Ratio could answer, he abruptly pulled away and clapped his hands together. “Right! Did you make your coffee yet?”

Ratio furrowed his brows slightly from the sudden change of topic as Aventurine strode to the kitchen. “No, not yet.”

“I’ll make it then. Just—just give me a second,” Aventurine said, quickly making himself busy in the kitchen in an attempt to shake the weird jumpy energy away. 

Thankfully, it seemed like Ratio didn’t notice as he had gone back to eating.

Aventurine pulled open the fridge door and looked inside before he furrowed his brows. 

“Ratio,” Aventurine called out. “I think we should get groceries later. We ran out of creamer and some other things.” 

“We can go after we eat,” Ratio replied.

“We should try something new tonight,” Aventurine said as he returned to preparing their drinks. The familiar aroma of coffee was helping him out a bit with his nerves. “I saw someone cook something called Chili Oil Beef Offal Stew online. It might be fun to try it out tonight.”

“Would you even be able to handle chili oil?”

“Are you doubting me?”

Ratio responded with a noncommittal chew, giving Aventurine nothing more than a loud silence as an answer. In turn, this made Aventurine scrunch his face up, offended that his own roommate lacked faith in him.

“Don’t you want to try it though? I’m sure it’ll taste out of this world,” Aventurine persisted, carrying the mugs to his seat and extending one to Ratio.

Ratio reached his hand out with a skeptical look. “And what are you going to do when you can’t handle it?” 

From that statement, the mug handle was pulled away from Ratio’s grasp, causing Ratio to shoot Aventurine an unimpressed look while Aventurine gave a stubborn smile. “You’re delusional if you think you can eat it.”

“You never know until you try it. C’mon, what happened to your sense of curiosity?” 

Ratio gave an exasperated stare before he gave a weary sigh. “Fine, fine. Just give me my coffee already.”

Aventurine grinned teasingly as he gave Ratio his mug. 

Aventurine’s hand was still warm, even after the cup had left his grasp. He tried to chalk it up to the fact that the coffee was hot and not Ratio’s hand that brushed against his.

— HOW TO GROW A FLOWER —

Step 1:

Plant the seed.

…

A chill swept through the streets as they walked down the streets lined with bustling shops and locals all bundled up for the autumn weather. Aventurine shivered as his hand instinctively scratched the itch in his throat.

“It’s getting cold, huh?” Aventurine remarked, his voice wavering as he let out a frosty breath.

Ratio adjusted his scarf, tucking it tightly around his neck to warm his neck. “The reports say that this year will be colder than last year. Considering how it’s only September, we should expect the temperature to drop even more later.”

Aventurine nodded, slightly dazed by the wind that rushed past them. “Can’t imagine what winter would look like with the snow,” Aventurine mused. “I guess it’s about the time of the month where everyone starts getting ready for Christmas.”

Ratio raised a brow. “Christmas is only three months away from now.”

“Yeah, but it’s usually about time when customers start coming in to plan winter arrangements for weddings and events and such. Not that I mind since I think holiday-themed arrangements are fun to work with.”

“Sounds like things will get busier for you.” 

“As long as it’ll pay the rent,” Aventurine hummed before he paused when he remembered something. “Oh, right. Speaking of winter, we’ll have to renew our lease soon.”

“December,” Ratio confirmed.

Aventurine nodded thoughtfully. “What do you think?” He asked. “Would you want to live together again?”

Ratio exhaled softly, seeing his breath in the air. “I don’t see why it would be a problem to live together again, unless you have any qualms about it.”

“No, no. I was just thinking that it’ll be nice if we can keep living together like this and not worry about anything. At least until we graduate, y’know, since who knows where we’ll end up after that.” Aventurine clearing his throat from the heavy weight in his throat. “I’m sure you’ll be really busy since you’re planning to be a doctor, right?”

Ratio slightly nodded, noticing Aventurine slip his hands into his pockets before Aventurine gave Ratio a wide smile. “Wouldn’t it be cool if you got to be my doctor?”

Ratio’s gaze sharpened. “If I became your doctor, it would mean that we’d meet in the hospital and that’s the last place you should think about landing yourself in. And, I highly doubt that you’re thinking about checkups.”

Aventurine laughed a bit. “I know, I know. But, I have no doubt that you’ll have a lot of things going on for you. And a lot of people will ask for you too since you’ll be good at what you do.” 

Aventurine smiled. But, his lips nearly faltered from the headache that started to throb again.

There was a long sigh. “Aventurine. You can just say that you’re worried about us losing touch.”

Aventurine stilled as he met Ratio’s intense look. “What?” Aventurine scoffed, trying to play off the antsy feeling that started to surface. “What makes you say that?”

“Then, am I wrong?”

Aventurine hesitated as they stopped walking—Ratio a step ahead of him, but looking back with a patient look, waiting for Aventurine’s answer. For some reason, there was a fluttering feeling in Aventurine’s stomach that made it hard to focus on how he should answer.

Aventurine’s eyes dragged over to the laurel clip nestled nicely in Ratio’s hair.

“Wouldn’t you?” Aventurine finally murmured, his voice as heavy as the autumn breeze dancing around them. “Or, I mean, I guess it’s kind of a stupid question to think about.”

“Losing contact with people you care for is a reasonable thing to worry about,” Ratio answered evenly, exhaling a warm breath into his scarf. “So, to an extent, I would.”

“To what extent?”

“You haven’t answered my previous question.”

Aventurine inhaled sharply, the cold air rattling his lungs and making his chest tighten. He exhaled carefully, averting his attention to the store next to them in an attempt to ease the numbing pain in his body and the knot in his throat.

“I guess you aren’t wrong,” Aventurine started. “But, things happen, and people get busy. It is what it is, and it happens. So, I  guess that’s why people say to focus on the present, right?” Aventurine said with a quiet chuckle. He hopped a step over to Ratio and gave him a light tap on the shoulder. “Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to be a downer.”

Ratio’s expression is nonchalant as he watched Aventurine’s hand retreat into his pocket. 

“Holding a long-time relationship takes the effort of two people, correct?”

“Yeah…” Aventurine answered, although uncertain as he watched Ratio pull off the scarf on his neck.

“And you have my number as I have yours, so.” Ratio draped the scarf around Aventurine’s neck, catching the latter off-guard. 

Aventurine squinted for a moment, puzzled as he felt Ratio tuck the scarf around his neck carefully. The added warmth quickly seeped into his body that he stopped shivering almost immediately. 

Once that warmth settled in, so did Ratio’s words.

Aventurine chuckled teasingly. “Are you giving me permission to bother you in the future?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But, that’s what it sounded like you were saying. Or, am I wrong?”

Ratio grumbled in response, which made Aventurine laugh.

“You can say that you’ll miss me,” Aventurine grinned.

Ratio narrowed his eyes. “I doubt that you’ll manage sleep schedule in the future, and I don’t think that anyone else would be able to drag you out of bed properly.”

“So, you’ll still be keeping me accountable then?”

“Who else will?”

Aventurine laughed again as Ratio flicked his head.

“Aventurine!” A third voice called out, catching both of their attentions to notice a bright-eyed woman with a halo and wings cheerfully fluttering.

“Ah, Robin! Hey!” Aventurine greeted, surprised at the coincidental encounter as she approached them eagerly. “I didn’t expect to see you here! How are you?”

Robin beamed. “I’m doing well! I just finished delivering an order for a customer.”

“Oh? What was it for?”

“It was their one-year anniversary!” Robin said, her face lighting up with adoration and warmth. “The customer requested a small vase with purple flowers to be delivered to her lover’s workplace. Her lover looked really pleased with the flowers.”

“Aww,” Aventurine grinned, nudging at Ratio’s arm with his elbow. “Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

Ratio merely sighed and grasped Aventurine’s arm gently, which reminded Aventurine about needed introductions. 

“Oh, right.” Aventurine cleared his throat promptly. “Ratio, this is my coworker, Robin. Robin, this is my roommate, Ratio.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ratio.” Robin nodded her head politely, her wings folding over slightly that gave the impression that it also bowed—silently intriguing both Ratio and Aventurine.

“Likewise,” Ratio said, nodding slightly in return as Robin looked at him with a curious smile.

“I believe you are the one Jade has mentioned before,” Robin paused to recall. “Are you the one who would pick up Aventurine after his—”

“Hold up, hold up!” Aventurine interrupted quickly, his eyes widening. “Why is Jade telling you that?”

Robin smiled innocently, but slightly puzzled. “She said something along the lines of ‘ if a man with blue hair and red eyes come into the shop, he’s a VIP customer’ . She also said—”

“Hold up, that’s enough, don’t—” 

Before Aventurine could finish, Ratio wrapped an arm around him and covered his mouth with the other hand.

“Go ahead,” Ratio said flatly, making Aventurine widen his eyes and tap frantically at Ratio’s hand. However, Ratio’s hand was awfully firm that Aventurine’s efforts to pull it away and save face was miserably fruitless. 

Robin continued cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to Aventurine’s struggle. “She said that Aventurine would get so excited that the moment he saw you at the window, he’d start getting ready to go home. There would also be times where he’d sneak into the bathroom to check his phone to see if you—”

“Hold it, hold it!” Aventurine exclaimed breathlessly  as he finally pried Ratio’s hand away. “Jade is giving you the wrong idea here! We’re just friends. Friends! Good friends! Goo—” Aventurine sputtered until his throat suddenly tightened, causing him to immediately cover his mouth to cough.

“Are you okay?” Both Ratio and Robin asked in unison as Aventurine continued to cough.

“Did I choke you earlier, or do you have a cold?” Ratio asked with furrowed brows, leaning over to press his hand against Aventurine’s temple.

Ratio’s hand was hot—hot enough that it burned Aventurine’s cold skin. And the sudden contrast of temperature was so jarring that Aventurine flinched slightly.

“I’m fine—” Aventurine uttered out, his voice hoarse but he waved a hand dismissively. “I was just choking on saliva…”

Ratio remained concerned. “If you’re feeling unwell, let me know so we can get some medicine—”

“Veritas Ratio!”

The sharp interruption forced all three of them to turn around. Ratio’s concerned expression quickly distorted into heavy irritation as someone strode to them enthusiastically.

“Can I help you?” Ratio asked, although more harsh and uninviting if anything.

“It’s such an honor to meet you in person, Veritas Ratio!” The person exclaimed brightly, unfortunately oblivious to the tone. “My peers and I are such huge fans of yours after studying the contributions you have made for the community! In fact, your debate at the last conference was truly inspiring!”

— SPECTATOR AVENTURINE’S LINE OF THOUGHT —

Is this déjà-vu?

“We were wondering if you’d join us for a conference that will be starting in an hour? We would love to have you attend…”

At some point, the noises around Aventurine started to ebb and flow, and the words he was hearing slowly turned to muffled jargon. The only things that his senses could latch onto were the disapproving look of Ratio’s face and Robin’s curious hum next to him.

“Ratio sounds very popular,” Aventurine heard Robin say.

He looked over at the winged woman. “He is,” Aventurine quietly chuckled. “He’s basically like a celebrity on campus, which is expected for someone like him.”

“I can see that,” Robin chimed lightly. “He seems like a wonderful friend.”

A wonderful friend.

Aventurine squinted as he could barely make out the words from the person still rambling.

“…we would love to hear your opinion on…”

Yeah, Ratio is a friend of his. A good person, a good roommate, and a good friend. Anyone would be incredibly lucky to have Ratio as a friend.

It was, and was supposed to be, an endearing thought of appreciation. But instead, Aventurine felt his throat close up and his stomach twist unnaturally so that it almost became painful. The person was still talking, and Aventurine felt a tinge of something uncomfortable.

“…we have also sent you an invitation not too long ago for today…”

Aventurine widened his eyes as he stared at Ratio, confused.

Ratio had been invited to go to the conference today? Since when? Shouldn’t he be there instead?

To his knowledge, Ratio would usually tell him that he was going to a conference—at least every couple of weeks from what he remembered. But, he’d never seen or heard of Ratio turning down one before.

After all, those events were right up Ratio’s alley, so it would make sense for Ratio to jump the gun and attend regularly—where they’ll probably talk about some new mathematical or physics theories or have some philosophical debate.

So, why isn’t he going?

Was it because he had mentioned running errands today? Was that the reason why?

Right, he mentioned errands because he said something about that spicy stew.

His bones started to rattle as a cold shiver ran through his spine up to his neck. Aventurine sucked in a sharp breath as the scarf around his neck started to feel suffocating.

“Ratio,” Aventurine quietly whispered, leaning in carefully to not disrupt whatever conversation was going on. “I’ll go ahead and get the groceries. Text me when you’re finished with the con—”

Before he could finish, Ratio’s hand suddenly grabbed his, startling Aventurine that he nearly jumped. 

Aventurine shot his eyes over, only to see Ratio glaring intensely at the other person speaking to him. He considered pulling his hand away, but Ratio’s grip was firm—almost as if Ratio was telling him to not go anywhere.

“I believe you should know by now that if I have plans to attend, I would’ve responded promptly to the invitation,” Ratio said sharply—a tone harsh enough to finally send the other person into a flustered panic.

“But, I can assure you that it’ll be worthwhile to your ti—“

“You can make my time worthwhile by sparing it,” Ratio interrupted, clicking his tongue. “Now, if you have any other important matters to say to me, you’re welcome to email me. Otherwise, that concludes everything, yes?”

Not bothering to wait for a response, Ratio turned over to Robin, who had been observing the ordeal with keen interest the whole time.

“I apologize for that, Robin,” Ratio nodded politely, his tone shifting to a more apologetic one. “But, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Robin smiled kindly and nodded as well, her wings fluttering with a tinge of excitement. “It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Ratio. I’ll see you two later.”

“Uh—” Aventurine stammered, his brain struggling to keep up as Robin waved sweetly. “I’ll see you at work.”

A faint giggle along with an exasperated wail trailed behind them. Ratio gently pulled Aventurine along while Aventurine, dazed, walked slightly behind Ratio.

The cold autumn air stung his face, and his head was throbbing more intensely than before. 

Yet, despite the stinging and numbing pain, Aventurine’s senses zeroed in on the hand that wrapped around his—a gentle yet firm grip with a touch that burned his skin so intensely that Aventurine might melt any minute now.

“Ratio?”

“What is it?”

Aventurine breathed out, a frosty mist floating in the air. Has he been making Ratio indulge his whims too much?

“I didn’t—” Aventurine inhaled sharply, the words caught abruptly in his throat. He opened his mouth to forcefully push out a laugh. “I didn’t know you were invited to the conference today! From what the guy said, it sounds like it could be fun! What was it going to be about? Math? Physics? You should’ve gone! I mean, isn’t that your type of thing?”

There wasn’t an answer, and it didn’t help that Aventurine couldn’t make out Ratio’s face. His mind was racing a million miles per minute that the world around him was starting to blur—the only thing grounding him now was Ratio’s warm hand that was grasping his.

“I mean—if I’d known that you were invited, I would’ve suggested doing errands another time,” Aventurine rambled, trying to fill the silence that stretched between them. “After all, aren’t conferences a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity? There’s no way you should pass it up.”

“It’s not as once-in-a-lifetime as you think it is.”

Aventurine’s throat was tensing up. But, he forced out an exhale—as calmly as he could, because something was threatening to spill out of his head.

— I DIDN’T MEAN TO —

force you to do something you didn’t want to do.

“Are you sure?” Aventurine spoke, trying to mimic Ratio’s typical skepticism and disbelief. “You could be talking about something cool like physics or math or the meaning of the universe.”

This time, Ratio stopped walking, and Aventurine didn’t notice until he walked ahead enough for Ratio to pull him back gently—stopping him. Aventurine turned, surprised as he met Ratio’s gaze that he could see clearly—intense and unwavering. 

It wasn’t an unfamiliar expression. In fact, it was something Aventurine had probably seen Ratio wear a million times before. Yet, something was swelling in his chest so uncomfortably that he was growing nervous.

“What day is it?” Ratio asked, his voice calm and steady.

Aventurine blinked, taken aback. “Saturday.”

“And what are we doing right now?”

“Grocery shopping…”

“And why?”

Aventurine swallowed hard, feeling Ratio’s index finger brushing in between the spaces of his fingers. He lowered his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts as he shifted his finger, allowing Ratio to loop it around his.

“But,” Aventurine looked up, mustering a smile. “The meaning of the universe is cooler, right?”

Ratio stared. There, Aventurine watched Ratio’s intense expression relax into something more… calm. Gentle, even.

Aventurine felt his heart gradually steady as Ratio tugged at his finger—as if Ratio is trying to hold Aventurine down before his racing mind swept him away. 

Ratio simply sighed, and he stepped forward to close the distance. “I have as much choice about attending this conference as you do about choosing what show you’re watching tonight. So…”

Ratio raised a hand to flick Aventurine square in the forehead, making Aventurine snap out of it with an “ow” . 

“Stop worrying about it,” Ratio said—requested, before his hand fell to his side. “Okay?”

Aventurine exhaled quietly, the gentle sting lingering on his forehead longer than the throbbing in his head. He looked down, watching as their fingers hung onto each other, careful to not let the other fall.

Is it okay though? Aventurine thought, but there was another insistent tug on his finger that didn’t allow Aventurine to stray further into his head.

“Fine, fine,” Aventurine answered with a deep sigh. That was enough to make Ratio’s shoulders fall and for his lips to shape into a small smile.

“Thank you,” Ratio said, reaching out to tuck in a strand of Aventurine’s hair behind his ear. 

Aventurine wanted to ask why Ratio was so warm, but he bit down on his tongue to hold back a grimace at the ache in his chest.

…

It’s cold. Really cold.

Jumping in the river was truly not the smartest idea he had made because here he was, back home and laying in bed—confined in the blankets with a throbbing headache and an aching chest.

It was still early in the day when they both had gotten home, so Aventurine had thought it was a good time to try and catch up on sleep (and hopefully ease his headache).  Or, so he’d figured. 

Except, he had been wide awake for the past couple of hours without touching the very first stage of a peaceful slumber—and that was very annoying . 

He coughed quietly and groaned before he finally decided to drag his exhausted body out of bed. If he was going to be awake, he might as well start preparing dinner while he was still somewhat conscious.

Aventurine had shuffled out of the hallway before he shivered slightly from the cold air that swept past him. He rubbed his hands together, hoping to warm them up at least while he glanced over to the side.

Down the hallway, he noticed that Ratio’s bedroom door was slightly ajar—just enough for Aventurine to catch a glimpse of the light shining through and hear the faint sounds of pages flipping.

How diligent, even on the weekend, Aventurine thought.

The chills didn’t relent by the time Aventurine moved his body to the kitchen. Aventurine tried to shake it off and rub his arms vigorously, but the chills were unfortunately stubborn assholes. 

Hence, he let out a sigh of defeat and reached for the kettle and a mug.

It was still a wonder to him why Ratio wouldn’t go to the conference. By now, Ratio would probably have came home from it if he had attended.

Aventurine knew Ratio would’ve enjoyed—or even preferred—doing something like that: debating some complicated topics to other people that also understood complicated topics, talk with experts in the field, and making connections. Overall, wouldn’t this be a good opportunity to build up for a better future, especially for a prospective doctor like Ratio?

— A QUIET ‘WHAT-IF’ —

If Aventurine didn’t say anything, would Ratio have gone?

He told me to stop thinking about it. 

But, why was he even thinking about it in the first place? The whole thing about Ratio going to the conference shouldn’t really bother him this much, and yet...

Aventurine closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He needed to calm down and relax before the overthinking made his headache turn out worse than it is now.

One…

Two…

A quiet chime of the electric kettle broke the silence. Aventurine slowly opened his eyes, the weariness finally weighing his body down as he exhaled. He began to pour hot water into the mug when he heard shuffles behind him.

“You’re done with your work?” Aventurine asked, turning around to see Ratio in the kitchen.

Ratio slowly nodded as he opened the fridge. The soft glow from the fridge lights highlighted Ratio’s face, and Aventurine could make out the heavy, exhausted look etched on him. 

Too diligent , Aventurine thought with a small laugh. He lifted his hand to gesture for Ratio to come over. Ratio looked for a moment, as if processing, before he finally registered what Aventurine meant.

As Aventurine suspected, that delayed response probably meant that Ratio must have really had his work cut out for him.

Ratio pulled away from the fridge and walked over to Aventurine, his footsteps heavy.

Aventurine handed him the hot mug of water. “Stressful?”

“A little,” Ratio replied, carefully removing the mug from Aventurine’s hold to take a cautious sip, lest he burned his tongue.

“You should take it easy today,” Aventurine suggested, accepting the mug when Ratio had returned it. He took a sip himself, feeling the warmth trail faintly down his spine. But, it was hardly enough to shake the chills away.

“I expected you to sleep a little longer,” Ratio remarked.

“I would’ve, but I couldn’t sleep,” Aventurine admitted. “So, I figured that I should start preparing dinner.” 

Aventurine handed the mug back to Ratio—a funny little exchange of warmth between them. Except, when Ratio brushed his fingers on top of Aventurine’s hand during the handoff, Ratio’s expression shifted into something that looked like concern.

“Your hand is cold.”

Aventurine squinted in surprise when Ratio reached out to touch Aventurine’s temple. It only took a few seconds of analyzing (diagnosing?) before Ratio pulled his hand away and quickly pushed the mug back into Aventurine’s hand.

“I’ll turn up the heater.”

If Ratio had the turn up the heater, then that meant the heater was on. And if the heater was on, then he is probably really sick.

Aventurine doesn’t stop Ratio from leaving. Mainly because Ratio had left before he could protest against it.

A minute later, Aventurine felt a slightly warmer breeze of air fill the room.

“How are you feeling?” Ratio asked as he popped back around into the kitchen.

Prospective doctor, alright.  

“I’m fine, thank you,” Aventurine smiled a bit, but Ratio’s brows furrowed skeptically as he touched Aventurine’s temple again, double-checking. “I’m just what you call cold-blooded . Get it?”

Aventurine grinned widely, but Ratio responded with an unamused stare. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Aventurine sighed dismissively, placing the mug on the counter to take Ratio’s hand from his temple. Ratio’s hand was really warm—warmer than the hot cup of water. Hopefully, Ratio didn’t mind if he used his hand as a makeshift heat pack for a bit. “Are you feeling sick?” Aventurine asked.

Ratio doesn’t move his hand, nor does he mention the way Aventurine was cradling it.

“No.”

“Really? Remember when we both jumped into the river and we didn’t shower until we got home?”

“Yes.”

“You really don’t feel like…sick from that? Anything at all?”

“So you are sick.”

“I’m not! I—” Ratio shot him a sharp glare, forcing Aventurine to finally groan and raise his hands in defeat. “Alright, I’m just a little under the weather. But, you also jumped in there with me too, so, how are you not sick?”

“Because everyone’s immune systems are different,” Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose as if he were looking at Aventurine's dismal test scores. “What exactly are you feeling right now?”

Aventurine hesitated. “Cold with a bit of a headache.”

“Sore throat?”

“No.” A lie.

“Runny or stuffy nose?”

“No.” The truth.

“Coughing or sneezing.”

“Eh…?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes when Aventurine shrugged sheepishly. But, Ratio didn’t prod any further than that.

Instead, Ratio turned around. This time, Aventurine caught the intentions quickly and loudly cleared his throat to stop Ratio from leaving.

“It’ll pass,” Aventurine shook his hand dismissively, hoping to reassure his roommate. “I’ll drink the medicine later after we eat. Yes? Does that work?”

Ratio turned back and stared. “Are you sure?”

“I promise,” Aventurine grinned, showing a pinky of oath.

Ratio sighed, clearly unconvinced, when a ringtone interrupted their conversation. Ratio pulled out his phone, and Aventurine saw Ratio frown with annoyance.

“I’ll go ahead and start making dinner,” Aventurine said, earning a concerned look. “I’ll be fine, just go, go.” Aventurine gave a little wave, gesturing him to pick up the call.

“I’ll help after this,” Ratio replied. Aventurine nodded, watching Ratio reluctantly leave the kitchen and disappearing from his view.

After a moment, he heard Ratio’s voice faintly rumbling from the hallway.  Aventurine closed his eyes and exhaled a careful breath, trying to ease the itch in his throat without scratching it. 

The chills were back again—settling in his skin and making him shiver despite the heater. Must’ve felt colder now that he wasn’t holding onto his makeshift heat pack.

Now that he thought about it, Ratio’s hand was bigger than his, and Ratio’s fingers were also thicker. It was clearly evident with how Ratio’s ring was loose around his own finger, but, the fact slipped into his mind again for some reason.

If they pressed their palms together, what would that look like?

— RATIO —

Is a wonderful friend.

In that moment, his heart crawled up his throat, and a sharp, freezing sensation rushed up his spine that he nearly doubled over the counter in shock. Aventurine covered his mouth and coughed—as quietly as he could to not disturb the call.

It’s so cold , Aventurine shuddered before he felt something fall out of his mouth.

Alarmed, he pulled his hand away, and he saw something fall onto the ground.

— THE HEART —

A lovely rose petal.

5.

At first, Aventurine was confused.

Then, after a few more times, he started to freak out.

Why the hell was he coughing up rose petals? Has he eaten something weird recently? Maybe contracted an infection or a parasite at some point? 

Aventurine tried to tidy up the dahlias on the shelves, but he couldn’t help but feel insane thinking about it. 

Thankfully, Ratio didn’t catch the times he coughed them out—mainly because since then, Aventurine had managed to cough up the petals in his room, the bathroom, or when Ratio wasn’t around.

After all, how would he explain why he was coughing up flowers? And he knew for sure, 100%, that Ratio would immediately drag him straight to the hospital. But, a hospital trip is a whole other ordeal and that is something Aventurine doesn’t want to do—at leat not right now.

“Um, excuse me…Excuse me.”

Aventurine blinked and turned around to see a shy, green-haired woman standing next to him. “Oh, yes! Yes, sorry,” Aventurine quickly greeted with his customer service smile. No time to worry, he’s at work now. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

“Yes, um,” the shy woman stammered. Aventurine noticed her fox ears were twitching nervously. “Would you…be able to help make something? My friend is—uh, she’s graduating and I wanted to ask if—um, if you can make a bouquet for that?”

Aventurine’s smile widened. “Of course. We can make assortments for any occasion. Do you know what flowers your friend might like, or what her favorite color is?”

“Uh…” The woman hesitated before her tail—tail? bristled.

“Hey! Don’t tell me you forgot what they are!” The tail—definitely a tail—rumbled with annoyance. “You asked Hanya this yesterday!”

“I know, I know! But, she didn’t specify anything!” The woman stammered anxiously as she fumbled with her phone.

Aventurine waited patiently, retaining his customer service smile. But, he couldn’t help but stare at the green tail that gave a hummph.

— TWO STRANGEST THINGS HE DISCOVERED RECENTLY —

1. He’s coughing up rose petals.

2. A customer’s tail is talking.

“All she mentioned was anything spring-like works.”

The tail—this was so weird to watch—puffed up angrily. “That’s it? Areyou kidding me? You should’ve interrogated her more!”

The woman deflated in defeat, but Aventurine tilted his head thoughtfully. “By any chance is your friend fond of spring?” He asked, curious.

The woman nodded slightly. “Yes…! She has mentioned that she likes spring because it reminds her of her childhood with her sister.”

Aventurine hummed. “If you’d like, I can create a spring-themed assortment if you’d like. It could be a nostalgic gift, especially since we’re in autumn now. Some flowers may be out of season, but there are alternatives to them if you would like that.”

The woman lit up brightly—like Aventurine had just saved her from impending doom. The tail shook excitedly.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea! Right, Huohuo?”

“Yes…! I would like to that then!”

Aventurine chuckled. “Sounds good! I’d like to go over the logistics, the budget, and how you’d like the arrangement to look since this will be a custom one.”

He directed the now-eager woman to the counter to continue their discussion, pulling out a tablet to help the woman and her…companion, look through their options.

What were the flowers that grow in the spring again?

Tulips, marigolds, azaleas…There were also dahlias and zinnias as well.

Maybe an assortment with orange dahlias paired with white zinnias could be nice, or maybe something with white daisies and colorful poppies.

Now that he thought about it, had he even asked what Ratio’s favorite flower was, or what Ratio’s favorite season was?

Why hadn’t he ask before?

— A QUESTION—

How well does he really know Ratio?

Aventurine’s throat suddenly tightened up—painfully.

Was he going to cough again?

Thankfully, the woman was preoccupied, or arguing, with her tail about what kind of vase their friend might like. 

Aventurine forced himself to swallow the rose petal and smile politely.

…

The silence in the break room was broken by a series of muffled coughing. Aventurine, slumped in a chair, groaned as he pulled away the tissue. There were a few fresh, red petals laying on it.

Freaky.

Aventurine cringed, balling up the tissue and tossing it into the trash before he cleared his throat to get rid of the scratchiness. Thankfully, he didn’t start dying in front of the customer while he was helping her—because imagine explaining why in the world flower petals were coming out of his mouth to someone.

Roses out of all things though? He thought distastefully. He folded up his apron and stashed it into his locker when a phone vibrated in his pocket.

Aventurine hardly glanced at the ID before he picked up the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Aventurine,” Ratio’s voice echoed. Aventurine could make out a crowd muffled in the background. “I won’t be able to pick you up today. I have to stay on campus a little longer to assist with research.”

“Oh,” Aventurine chuckled—although more strained than he’d like it to be. “As expected from a workaholic like you.” An unamused grumble. “What time are you going to be home then?”

“5 PM.”

3 hours from now.

Aventurine shut his eyes as his head started to throb. “That’s fine. I’ll see you at home then.”

The call ended with a quiet click. On top of his flower predicament, his headache was starting to ramp it up again.

Admittedly, Aventurine had… forgotten to take his medicine. But, normally, a person can ride out a cold without taking anything so it isn’t exactly the end of the world for Aventurine.

Once Aventurine has straightened his cold out, he can probably go ahead and drag himself to a doctor for the whole flower thing. Yeah, that was a good plan for now.

Aventurine retrieved his bag and his jacket, and he made his way out of the break room where he saw his halo winged-coworker holding up a batch of fresh roses.

“Is your roommate going to pick you up?” Robin asked as she was arranging the flowers on the shelf. Meanwhile, Aventurine sharply stared at the vibrant red things.

That came out of his mouth.

“Not today,” Aventurine replied. “He got caught up with things in his lab, so he’s doing that.”

“Ah, he works at a lab?”

“Yeah,” Aventurine hummed. “He’s growing plants in weird environments like zero-gravity and high radiation zones. Pretty cool, right?”

“Wow,” Robin beamed curiously, her wings flapping a little. “That sounds really amazing. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to do research like that.”

“Right?” Aventurine grinned widely. “He’s always doing something interesting. I remember one time, he was working on a complicated equation during lecture in front of the class. I thought he was crazy for managing to finish it in a couple of minutes.”

“Wow,” Robin murmured, impressed. “It must be wonderful to live with such a talented friend like him.”

— A GENTLE REMINDER —

They’re friends.

Something crept through his body and up in his throat. 

Oh, shit.

Aventurine sucked in a deep breath, and he forced a smile as he quickly maneuvered around his coworker. “I gotta head out now, Robin! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Aventurine exclaimed with a slight strain—desperately trying to shake away the shivers with a friendly wave.

The winged coworker smiled brightly, unaware of his predicament. “Have a good day, Aventurine!”

“You too!”

The moment Aventurine stepped into the autumn air, he inhaled sharply and pulled up the collar of his jacket to his mouth.

Don’t cough, don’t cough. Aventurine pleaded desperately to his body, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing all his energy on pushing the petals back down into his throat.

There was no way in hell he was going to cough up flowers in public.

Not now. 

Not ever.

— A CONVERSATION IN FRONT OF THE LOVELY FLOWER SHOP —

“...and they started vomiting flowers.”

“Really? How could that happen?”

“It’s the Hanahaki Disease. The one where you grow flowers in your lungs if you fall in love with someone.”

“Huh? Like people who are in relationships get it?”

“No, no. People with unrequited love get it. I’m talking about one-sided love. The one where the other person doesn’t love you back. And because they don’t love you, you’ll end up choking to death because of the flowers.”

“But, aren’t there people that survive that?”

“Yeah, they probably made the other person love them back to cure themselves.”

“That sounds…terrible.”

It was cold. So cold.

The chills seeped into his bones as he stared out at the bustling street ahead of him.

Flowers in his lungs.

Unrequited love.

Unrequited love?

He has flowers growing in his body because of unrequited love?

Because he’s in love with someone who doesn’t love him back?

Since when? How? What?

The Hanahaki Disease?

What the hell?

Who was he in love with in the first place?

The cold air shook him violently. Aventurine shuddered, and he looked down at his hands.

Shoot.

Aventurine swallowed hard and wiped his hands on his pants before gripping on it.

…

There was something oddly funny about clicking pieces together, and then pretending that those pieces didn’t click together. And something even funnier about hearing something so absurd that you’d never thought would happen to you—until you experience it first-hand.

Flowers growing in his lungs? Coughing up petals, even vomiting them, all because he fell in love with someone who doesn’t love him back? And to top it all off, he doesn’t even know who he’s in love with in the first place?

This was all so absurd that it was just painfully hilarious—like a really bad prank. Except it wasn’t, because he has a disease.

Or, maybe—just maybe—he had just happened to eat something parasitical that happened to grow flowers inside his body, and no one has discovered that parasite yet.

Yeah, that’s what happened. Or, that was what Aventurine would like to chalk it up to.

Except, for the past however many hours, he’d been stuck lying on the couch, analyzing the stitchings on the cushions, mentally jumping over hoops to disassociate from the pain in his body, and trying to justify his predicament with delusional reasoning.

So far, he only won half the battle.

The sweat clung to his shirt and slicked his hands as his stomach churned uncomfortably. 

A majority of him wished he never caught that conversation so he could’ve lived in blissful ignorance. But, no. The world decided that he should be hyper-aware of the flowers growing inside his body. And it had to be roses out of all the other cheesy flowers that existed in the world. Roses .

But, if he supposedly fell in love with someone and they didn’t love him back, then that means that he’ll have to make them fall in love with him to cure his disease.

Except, the hard parts are 1. figuring out who and 2. making them fall in love with him. But, wouldn’t the second part be kind of terrible to do morally?

— A HYPOTHESIS—

If one cure is to make the love interest fall in love with him, then wouldn’t another cure be to move on from the love interest?

Yeah.

That might just work.

A jingle at the front door sharply interrupted his revelation (mental crisis).

He dragged his eyes over at the door, steadying his breath as much as he could as the door swung open. 

“Morning,” Aventurine greeted, lifting his arm to give a sluggish wave.

Ratio stepped inside, pulling off his shoes as he glanced towards the living room. “Did you wake up just now?”

“Kinda,” Aventurine replied, sitting up when Ratio approached the couch. He moved over to make room for Ratio to sit down. “I woke up 15 minutes ago, but I was too lazy to get up.” Aventurine said before he caught a familiar golden gleam on Ratio’s hair. “You’re still wearing it?”

Ratio raised a brow. “You saw me wear it this morning.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d take it off later on,” Aventurine remarked, watching Ratio pull a book out of his bag. If Ratio’s first move was to head straight for the couch to read a book, it meant that Ratio really needed a mental break too.

You and me both, Aventurine thought wryly.

“Why would I do that?”

Aventurine shrugged casually, letting out a small hum.

On a perfectly normal day, he’d probably try to mess around with Ratio and make him admit that he liked the gift. But, judging by Ratio’s tired demeanor on top of his own exhaustion of fighting an internal war, Aventurine figured they both needed some peace.

Carefully, Aventurine leaned the back of his head on Ratio’s shoulder—giving it a minute to see if Ratio would mind the extra weight right now. But, Ratio only shifted his arm slightly to help make their positions more comfortable.

“Is that the same novel you’re reading?” Aventurine asked, watching Ratio peel the book open.

Ratio nodded slightly. “It is.”

“You should read it out loud.”

“Judging by the tone of your voice, you won’t be able to make it past a paragraph.”

“I won’t fall asleep. Trust me.” There was an unconvinced pause, which made Aventurine groan in protest. “Please?”

The last part had Ratio glancing over at Aventurine—who was staring at the windows and blinking sluggishly, as if he was bordering on the thin line of sleep and consciousness.

Ratio sighed softly, and he looked down at his book.

— A MOMENT OF CALM —

Ratio began to read, his voice steady and gentle, like a calming lullaby.

Aventurine listened, the ache in his chest throbbing quietly.

Ratio paused when he heard Aventurine’s breathing grow softer.

“Have you taken your medicine?” Ratio asked.

“I have.”

“Have you been getting enough sleep lately?”

“I have.”

“Your prominent eyebags say otherwise.”

Aventurine shut his eyes, giving a dismissive hum. “Nothing an eye mask can’t fix.”

Ratio frowned and furrowed his brows. “You should be getting sleep, not covering your lack of sleep with cosmetics.”

Aventurine gave a nonchalant hum. “I’ll be fine, doctor ,” he teased with a grin, earning a sigh in exchange. Aventurine’s grin then fell into a small smile.

“Say, what does falling in love feel like?”

Ratio raised a brow. “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

“Just entertain me so I don’t fall asleep.”

“That’s your body telling you that you should sleep.”

Aventurine rubbed his head persistently against Ratio’s shoulder. With a resigned sigh, Ratio turned the page of his book with his thumb.

“Everyone falls in love differently. Sometimes, they are aware of it, and other times, they don’t realize it until after the fact. It’s a deeply personal experience.”

“Then, have you fallen in love before?”

It was a half-joke, half-geniune question—which, for some reason, Aventurine was curious about. But, he figured that he’d hear Ratio click his tongue and scold him for an intrusively stupid question. 

But, there wasn’t a lecture or anything.

In fact, there was nothing at all.

Aventurine tilted his head, leaning over to see Ratio reading his book. He would’ve thought that Ratio was opting to ignore him—which wouldn’t have been surprising—but, the slight crease in between his eyes indicated that Ratio was thinking .

“So, you did?”

Ratio shot him a sidelong glance. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But, you didn’t deny it,” Aventurine replied, nudging Ratio’s arm with his hand. “Does that mean the Veritas Ratio is susceptible to romance like any other man? Or, is he more devoted to the pursuit of knowledge and science?”

“ I am like any other man, yes,” Ratio sighed wearily, grasping Aventurine’s hand for a moment. “I am capable of having romantic relationships and I understand the significance of them.”

“Which means…you have fallen in love before?”

Another long pause. “I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Never? Never at all?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes. “Have you?”

Aventurine paused this time.

— “HAVE YOU?” —

Apparently.

“I don’t know,” Aventurine said, leaning the back of his head on Ratio’s arm once more. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. It’s like what you said, right?” He sighed heavily, a lazy smile spreading loosely on his face as he stared out of the window. 

It was cold. Really cold. 

Aventurine huddled his feet as Ratio rested his cheek on top of Aventurine’s head. 

The page turned.

“Hey, hey.”

“What is it?”

— “IF YOU EVER FIND SOMEONE, YOU BETTER TELL ME.” —

“I can help you get together with them.”

Except, he couldn’t say the second half.

Aventurine jolted. Something was twisting inside him, and it hurts .

“Aven—“

“Ahh!” Aventurine laughed—as loud and clear as he could make. “I was just thinking how funny it would be to see you dating! I mean, I dunno—I wouldn’t expect that, but it would be kinda cool though. Imagine that? Would you be doing PDA? Do you think you’re a PDA kind of person? Or—“

Something was pressed against his forehead. Something burning.

Aventurine hitched his breath, all words collapsing from his tongue because something was threatening to crawl out of his mouth instead. He snapped his eyes over to see Ratio eyeing at him.

There was an expression. Was it concern? Or was it annoyance at whatever he said? Oh, he must’ve offended Ratio somehow.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you didn’t look like you would date or anything. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in that type of stuff or—“

“You’re pale,” Ratio murmured, cutting him off. He had leaned closer as if he was studying him. Examining. Observing.

Aventurine felt something shift on his forehead, and it clicked to him that it was Ratio’s hand, trying to read his temperature.

His hand was hot. Intensely hot. Enough to sear his skin as it rested on his forehead.

“I’m gonna turn up the heater and get you more medicine.”

It burns.

Ratio’s hand burns.

His face burns.

His chest burns.

He doesn’t know what this feeling is supposed to be.

“I’m fine,” Aventurine managed to say, grabbing Ratio’s hand to stop him from leaving the couch. He felt Ratio’s hand twitch under his hold—ready to protest, to argue. But, Aventurine quickly let out a yawn, interrupting whatever Ratio’s thought process might be.

“I think the exhaustion is finally getting to me, so I’m gonna take a little nap for a bit,” Aventurine continued. He clutched onto Ratio’s hand tightly—because the intense warmth was the only thing that kept him from freezing to death. 

Aventurine sunk his cheek into the cushion and shut his eyes, swallowing down the dull, uncomfortable feeling that lingered in his throat. “I’ll wake up in an hour so we can make dinner later. But, let me know if you need to leave, and I’ll move for you. Night night.”

There was nothing after that—nothing verbal at least. There was a tight squeeze around his hand. 

Aventurine figured Ratio is silently contemplating something.

— AN AUTUMN EVENING —

He doesn’t want Ratio to ask anything, because once he responds, it won’t be words coming out of his mouth.

But, he doesn’t want Ratio to leave, because once Ratio leaves, it will feel much, much more colder.

...

Ratio does not leave, nor does Ratio speak.

what a wonderful friend.

Chapter Text

lilacs

6.

“Have you ever fallen in love before?”

Ratio hadn’t—not that he could recall. The thought had never crossed his mind.

“What does falling in love feel like?”

If he had to rely on what the studies said: The physical symptoms are nervousness, racing heart, sweaty palms, face flushes, anxiety, heightened energy, and a rush of noradrenaline that causes the feeling of euphoria—to name a few.

The other signs include affection, a strong sense of compassion, intimacy, and desires to be with them, etc.

Of course, there is a vast difference between reciting facts from textbooks and experiencing it firsthand. For a concept like this, experience outweighs knowledge.

It required something that Ratio neither possessed nor understood, and because of that, he couldn’t figure out why the simulations were failing—why the flowers were barely growing and why more people were dying.

Because of his inability to understand, he admittedly couldn’t grasp the entirety of the conversation yesterday, nor why Aventurine’s questions felt oddly significant to him.

And he couldn’t understand why one of Aventurine’s comments had left him feeling strange.

Ratio lowered his pen as he watched the professor write on the board. The stale air of the lecture hall had him shifting around and breaking his focus more often than he’d like to.

“And for this equation, you’ll need to find the derivative…”

Ratio slowly tore his eyes from the professor to sweep across the room, eventually landing on Aventurine. He was in his usual spot in the back row, head down and covered by his arms.

It wouldn’t have been obvious that Aventurine was sick with a cold, given how energetically he’d been talking up a storm this morning. In fact, Ratio was surprised to find Aventurine already up and making breakfast for both of them when he left his room to get ready.

It might’ve slipped his mind that Aventurine was sick if it weren’t for the noticeable attempts of covering the dark circles with concealer.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it—why Aventurine was acting so full of energy when he’d usually preferred to stay in bed and sleep, and why Aventurine had chattered a lot more than he usually would this morning.

— A HYPOTHESIS —

Aventurine doesn’t want him to ask something specific.

“That’s all. See you tomorrow.”

The lecture hall erupted into the usual busy choir. Ratio quickly gathered his things, ignoring puppet woman who called his name, and made his way up the stairs to Aventurine’s aisle.

“Aventurine,” Ratio called softly, placing a hand on Aventurine’s shoulder and giving him a gentle shake. Aventurine stirred, lifting his head reluctantly to see Ratio beside him. 

There, Ratio noticed the purple-blue eyes looked slightly dull from the cumulative lack of sleep.

“Oh, Ratio,” Aventurine murmured, squinting his bleary eyes and stretching his arms outwards to shake off the grogginess. “Sorry, did you need something? You don’t usually come up here right after lecture.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

It was a simple question that made the world pause before he fixed up a small smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You should’ve stayed home today to get some rest,” Ratio frowned. “You look like you’re on the verge of passing out.”

“I’ll be fine,” Aventurine grinned lazily, waving a hand. “I already took some medicine, and I’ll take more later.” Ratio remained unconvinced. “I’m not going to die, trust me.”

“You’re going to be working later.”

“I’ll wear a mask so people won’t get sick.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about you.”

“Even if I wanted to call off, it’s too late to find a shift cover,” Aventurine shrugged. “Besides, I’ll be tired by the end of my shift, so it’ll be easier to sleep,” Aventurine added, “And a good night’s sleep is key for better recovery, right?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes, unsure whether to be incredibly disappointed by Aventurine’s leaps of logic or simply frustrated.

“Fine,” Ratio said, still unconvinced as he unraveled his scarf. “But, make sure you’re taking care of yourself properly. Yes?”

“Yes, yes, I will,” Aventurine replied as Ratio extended the scarf over to him.

“Wear it,” Ratio stated firmly. “It’ll get colder later.”

Aventurine squinted in confusion for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle. Now, it was Ratio’s turn to be confused. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, thank you,” Aventurine shook his head, grinning widely as he took the scarf and draped it around his neck. “I was just thinking how funny it feels to have a personal doctor. You worry way too much.”

Ratio clicked his tongue and reached his hands out. “Because you have a cold and you’re awful at taking proper care of yourself.”

Aventurine felt Ratio’s warm hand brushing against his cheek, leaving a lingering warmth that burned the chills that had been settling in his skin all morning. He had thought he was getting used to feeling like he was freezing to death, but the scarf around his neck tucked in nicely and melted him almost instantly.

“Go home if you need to,” Ratio said as he withdrew his hands. “And let me know if you need anything.”

Aventurine was partly relieved that Ratio had pulled away; otherwise he might have leaned into Ratio’s hands for more warmth. Instead, he opted to bury half of his face into the scarf.

“Thank you,” Aventurine murmured quietly, feeling his heart twist uncomfortably. 

It smelled like Ratio.

“I’m done talking with someone from my club,” A third voice interrupted (thankfully), causing both Ratio and Aventurine to look over. A woman with white and red hair stood behind Aventurine, staring at her phone. 

“Cafe again?” Aventurine asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I'm paying this tim—oh.” 

When Topaz looked up from her phone, the first thing she saw was a sophisticated blue-haired man standing next to Aventurine—that sophisticated man being Veritas Ratio.

Then, her attention dropped to Aventurine with a scarf that he definitely wasn’t wearing earlier. She would've chalked it up to Aventurine having it in his bag, but only if she hadn't seen Veritas Ratio wearing it during lecture today.

“So, you weren’t lying about knowing him after all.”

“You thought I was still lying?”

“Yeah.”

Aventurine gave her a look of disbelief. Then, he turned to Ratio with a sigh. “Ratio, this is my friend, Topaz. Topaz, my roommate, Ratio.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Veritas Ratio,” Topaz said with a polite smile, her initial skepticism giving way to a more formal demeanor as she extended her hand (Aventurine found the switch slightly jarring). 

Ratio accepted the handshake, which was surprisingly firm.

“Likewise,” Ratio replied.

“Your journals, theses, and research are highly regarded in the academic community,” Topaz continued. “Some members of the Interstellar Investment Society are inspired by your work ethic and how you’ve contributed to this university and beyond. On their behalf, I’d like to thank you.”

“I suppose the society is fortunate enough to have someone like you on the board to set an example of what a competent businesswoman looks like,” Ratio said.

“I’m truly flattered by your words,” Topaz smiled. “Aside from formalities, Aventurine here has told me about you and that you two are roommates?”

Aventurine furrowed his brows. “Are you still onto that?”

But, unlike Aventurine, Ratio didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

“If you’re skeptical about that, then yes. We’re both roommates,” Ratio stated, glancing over at Aventurine. “I offered for him to live with me.”

The silence screamed, and a pin dropped in distance. Aventurine buried his whole face into the scarf, feeling Topaz’s eyes digging into him and demanding for information.

At once, Topaz broke the professional facade to grab onto Aventurine’s shoulders and shake him excitedly. “No way. Is that true?”

“No—kinda—stop shaking me!” Aventurine scolded with mock irritation, shooing Topaz away. But, that didn’t deter Topaz’s curiosity from piquing as she turned back to Ratio. Of course, the gossip hungry person that she is.

“How’s it living with Aventurine? Has he been giving you trouble? Messed around with you or anything?”

Ratio raised an eyebrow, now becoming unsure where the conversation was heading. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Really?” Topaz laughed as she nudged Aventurine’s shoulder, much to his annoyance. “That’s good to hear. I thought he would’ve made things eventful for you, haha.”

Aventurine narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I dunno, Aven. Remember when you accidentally gave Numby catnip and he headbutted you while going on a frenzy? Or when we were watching Sun’s Sonata and you screamed so loud that you almost—”

“Stop! Stop! Stop, talking! And you were also screaming too!” Aventurine hissed before he turned to Ratio would a loud, nervous laugh. “Sorry about that! It’s all made up, that never happened—”

“All made up? Then, I’ll remind you that when you lived with me, you—”

“I’ll buy you Serval’s album if you stop talking.” Aventurine said. Then, he casted a pointed look at Ratio. 

Ratio nonchalantly lifted both of his hands up, indicating a promise of no repeats from last time.

Topaz quickly cleared her throat. “Aventurine was truly a joy and pleasure to live with, so I hope that it extends out to you too, Ratio,” She smiled pleasantly. Aventurine wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be genuine, or if she was influenced by the bribe.

Ratio squinted. He was aware that Aventurine was living with a friend before he had moved in, but for some reason, something urged him to ask: “You lived with him before?”

Topaz sighed in response. “Yeah. When Aventurine’s landlord kicked everyone out, he was homeless for a while and ended up crashing at my place until he moved in with you. You wanna know what's funny? I think that was one of the few times I saw him genuinely excited when he talked about finding a roommate. Who would’ve thought that it would be you?”

When Topaz made a grin, Aventurine nudged at her shoulder with a click of his tongue.

“Stop, you’re going to make me sound so weird,” Aventurine chided, making Topaz chuckle and apologize half-heartedly.

— OBJECT OF OBSERVATION —

A close friendship.

“You mentioned Aventurine was excited?” Ratio asked nonchalantly, but Aventurine sensed the piqued interest.

This time, Aventurine interjected before Topaz could speak: “It’s an overexaggeration,” He laughed a bit, albeit awkwardly. “I was in a rough spot trying to find a place to live, so I was glad that I got to live with you instead of some random person. If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been stuck with a weirdo. So, thanks for letting me move in with you.”

Ratio picked up a hint of relief, despite the awkwardness in that moment. Hence, Ratio sighed quietly. “I’m glad it worked out in the end.”

Aventurine blinked, caught off-guard by Ratio’s soft gaze and slight smile after the statement. The heat from Ratio’s scarf tangled with the chills in his body that he felt his heart race suddenly. Aventurine inhaled sharply, the words emerging from his throat before he could think. 

“Ratio, I—”

“You what to who? ”

A fourth person that overheard the conversation.

Good.

Great.

Fantastic.

Aventurine tore his eyes, noticing a young woman with brownish gray hair and a perpetually bored expression. Then, he saw Ratio’s face distort into irritation at the new presence that barged in.

“What do you want now, Herta?” Ratio asked bitterly.

“I just overheard that someone like you,” directed at Ratio, “is living with another human being,” directed at Aventurine. Herta dragged her eyes at Aventurine, who was stunned by the sudden sharp eye-contact. “You. Aren’t you the one that hangs around Ratio?”

Ratio glared. “Don’t—”

But Herta was already moving closer until she stood on the opposite side of the desk, directly facing Aventurine. Aventurine noted that her eyes looked similar to a scientist preparing to dissect a frog, as morbid as that sounded.

“Hello,” Aventurine managed to say, forcing a smile that he usually reserved for customers at the shop. “You must be Herta from the Genius Society organization, right? I’ve heard about your projects from Stelle and—”

Herta wasn’t listening, that much he could tell.

“You live with Ratio, right?”

“I do, yes…” Aventurine confirmed, trying to hold a professional tone under her scrutiny. He had seen her around with Ratio a lot, so he figured that they must be friends or likewise. Hence, a good impression is critical (even though he was kind of weirded out. Is this the type of people Ratio hangs out with? Whatever—if Ratio’s friends with them, then they must be good people). 

“Hm,” Herta narrowed her eyes, leaning in closer to inspect whatever was on Aventurine’s face. Aventurine, the frog in question, instinctively leaned back. “You have quite a flattering appearance. Your eyes are interesting—never seen anything like it before. The purple and the blue…how does it work?”

“Thank…you…? I don’t really know myself,” Aventurine managed a chuckle, not really catching the drift of the conversation. “I was just born with them, I guess.”

“I suppose I could see the reason why Ratio wanted to live with you. Though, I didn’t take him to be interested in studying unique eyeballs. But I can see the appeal to it.” Studying what? “But, good god, your eyes are so red and bleak at the same time.”

Before Aventurine could process that comment, Ratio grabbed Herta by the shoulder and pulled her back firmly.

“I’d advise you to stop talking,” Ratio demanded coldly, “before I decide to destroy one of your puppets.”

Herta turned her nose up at the threat, crossing her arms with a disappointed look. “Fine, fine. I was only curious why you’ve suddenly decided to live with someone.”

Aventurine might have asked what she meant, but he was also well aware that Ratio had been living alone for most of their university years until this year—when Aventurine had barged into Ratio's life.

Maybe the reason for the change in lifestyle is really because Ratio was interested in studying his eyeballs…? 

Which...would be an awfully weird but maybe morbidly funny if that was the case.

“I was bothering Ratio for a good while about my problems with trying to find a place to live,” Aventurine interjected before Ratio could respond. “If it weren’t for him, I’d be stuck in a predicament right now. So, that’s why we live together.”

Herta raised a brow.

“Right, okay. Are you two together or something?”

There was a chaotic diversity of reactions: Topaz had burst out laughing, Ratio was visibly stunned, and Aventurine froze in shock.

“We’re only friends—” Aventurine uttered out, the swelling in his throat making it really difficult to say anything clearly. “Just friends! Good friends. I—yeah—”

“Where’d that scarf come from there?” Topaz interjected slyly.

“And that clip?” Herta added smugly, staring at Ratio, who looked just as flustered as Aventurine.

For some reason, Ratio’s reaction intensified Aventurine’s own nervousness to the point he became increasingly aware of the rapid throbbing in his chest.

“Aventurine,” Ratio wearily glanced at Aventurine, “you don’t need to pay attention to Herta. This insensitive prick doesn’t get the concept of respect,” he added, ignoring the hey from the little puppet.

Aventurine gave an awkward laugh and waved a hand dismissively. “Hahaha, it’s fine! I get where you’re coming from,” he said, also ignoring the what does that mean? from the gossip fiend. “Speaking of which, Topaz and I have to get to our next class.”

Topaz raised a brow. “We have class in half an—”

Suddenly, Aventurine grabbed her shoulders and stared at her menacingly.

Topaz stared back, wide-eyed.

“Yeah. We gotta go now.”

“Yeah, we do,” Aventurine said firmly, quickly maneuvering her to push her out to the aisle before glancing at Ratio. “I’ll see you later, Ratio! Let me know if you want your scarf back.”

“Wait,” Ratio called out just as Aventurine moved past him to head up the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“What time do you get out of work?”

Aventurine thought for a moment. “5 PM.”

“I’ll pick you up after work then,” Ratio said.

There was the slight smile again—which made Aventurine’s heart begin to crawl around uncomfortably and his palms to sweat.

Aventurine managed a sheepish smile, swallowing down his heart that rose to his mouth. “Sounds good. I’ll see you then,” he said, giving a wave before he climbed up the stairs to catch up with Topaz.

…

“What an interesting person,” Herta said first thing as they entered the lab room, greeted by the sight of busy lab assistants darting around with floating screens and clipboards. 

Ratio shot her a pointed look. “I’d highly suggest you drop the subject and leave the intentions of harassing him out of your mind,” he said, carefully avoiding a cat cake that wobbled over to reach out for his leg. Ruan Mei must’ve brought them in today.

Herta raised her hands with a deadpanned expression. “I didn’t plan to harass him.” Ratio’s stare became more hostile, which slightly fazed her. “Alright, fine, fine. Dropped.”

“Good,” Ratio stated with a clipped tone before a pink-haired woman approached them.

“Hello, you two,” the lab assistant, Asta, greeted with a smile. “Ruan Mei is setting up the next simulation for the debugging in the next room.” She said, turning to Ratio. “The professor has also updated the cases with new notes per your request, Ratio. The logistics will be at your work station.”

“Thank you,” Ratio said with a slight nod, watching as Asta pulled out two envelopes from her pocket and handed it to him and Herta.

“Don’t tell me what I think this is,” Herta groaned, tearing open the envelope to pull out a piece of paper.

Asta’s brow twitched from how reckless Herta opened her envelope, but continued nonetheless: “It’s an invitation for the both of you regarding the conference today. It starts at 2 PM, and will cover the current progress regarding the Hanahaki Disease research across campuses. The professor specifically requests that both of you, along with Ruan Mei, attend to represent the university.”

Herta stared at the paper like she’d found a dead fish on her doorstep. “Seriously? Conferences aren’t my thing, so you should just send those two to—”

“The professor will fund your next project,” Asta interjected smoothly. Instantly, Herta cleared her throat and stuck her head up.

“Well, I suppose it won’t be all that bad. Right?” Herta glanced over at Ratio, who was already frowning while he read the paper.

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Think about it?” Asta and Herta asked simultaneously. Then, it clicked for Herta.

“Oh, right. Is it—”

“I,” Ratio cut in sharply, ignoring the puppet’s existence entirely. “will let you know in an hour, Asta. That should be sufficient time, right?”

Asta, a bit puzzled, nodded slowly. “Yes, that should be enough time.”

“Good, thank you.”

Without waiting for a response, Ratio walked past Asta, leaving the puppet behind to cross the busy room. When he reached his work station, he found a stack of papers, his clipboard and tablet, and a rose with a card resting on top of the stem.

A rose?

“Asta,” Ratio called out, lifting a hand to gesture her over. “What’s this?”

Asta hurried over to peer over at his table and immediately noticed the anomaly. “Oh! I found that in front of the door with a card that had your name on it. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see it or not.”

Herta, who had trailed behind Asta, peered over in her own curiosity as well. “Jeez, must be a nightmare to have admirers. Unless, it’s from—”

“Quiet ,” Ratio cut her off, picking up the card.

The card only had the words Veritas Ratio scrawled across it with a distinct logo stamped on the corner of it.

— A FAMILIAR LOGO OF A LOVELY FLOWER SHOP —

But, he didn’t recognize the handwriting.

…

The afternoon greeted the world delightfully when Aventurine let out a weary groan, watching the last of the rose petals slip from his mouth and into the toilet.

His entire being and soul had been aching so bad all day that it forced him to take brief, desperate breaks throughout his shift, just for a minute to breathe.

This sucks.

Aventurine tiredly flushed the toilet and pushed his back against the wall to regain whatever energy he had left in his reserves. 

He thought that the disease would eventually start to clear up, or that he would at least feel a little bit better than before.

Instead, it had been a gamble at whatever he was feeling at the hour.

One moment, he could tolerate the symptoms, and the next, he was hunched over some toilet, coughing up flowers.

It didn’t make sense why he would have this disease when he didn’t even know who was it that he was in love with in the first place. Not to mention, it was an unrequited love.

Or, frankly, the unrequited part didn’t bother him as much as specifically being in love did.

If the other person didn’t love him, then it’d make things easier for him to get the disease over with.

— POTENTIAL CURES: ACCORDING TO AVENTURINE —

1. to make the other person love him

2. to move on from the other person

It’ll probably be easy to get over the disease since Aventurine had essentially close to zero experience with dating. Would he want to date? After this, probably not—he can’t see the appeal of why hopeless romantics would die for this type of stuff.

Maybe he should’ve taken Ratio’s advice to stay home today.

A faint bell chimed, pulling him from his thoughts. Aventurine sighed, stood up, and made sure to clean himself up before he left the restroom to head back to the shop.

“Hello, welcome!” Aventurine smiled as he saw a customer—a long red-haired male with a charismatic smile—stride to the counter. “How may I help you today?”

“I would like to order a bouquet with 100 roses.”

Huh?

Aventurine’s customer service smile nearly faltered. “Sorry, come again?”

The man with the demeanor that resembled to some sort of knight-in-shining-armor (an odd way to describe someone), smiled warmly. “I would like to order a bouquet with 100 roses. However, if that is not possible, could you let me know what the maximum number of roses you would be able to include in a bouquet?”

“No, no. It’s possible,” Aventurine shook his head politely, still mentally processing the request. “I just wanted to let you know that it will be really expensive due to the time and care needed for that amount of roses.”

“That’s more than perfectly fine with me. I know that this flower shop provides the highest quality of flowers and meticulous care into the bouquets, so I’m more than happy to pay for your services.”

Oh, man. If Jade was here today, she’d love to drain the hell out of this guy’s wallet.

“I sincerely appreciate your compliments to the shop since we only want the best for our customers,” Aventurine nodded, maintaining a composed smile as he pulled out a tablet from the counter. “May I have your name please?”

“Argenti.”

“Argenti,” Aventurine repeated. He typed briefly before he handed the tablet to the customer. “This will be the price for a bouquet with 100 roses. You can expect it by next Friday, as we’re currently ordering more roses and will need time to arrange it together.”

“Beautiful! Lovely! That’s fine with me,” Argenti exclaimed, delighted.

“Great! May I have your information filled out here so I’ll be able to contact you about the arrangement? You’ll be able to contact me if you have any inquiries or requests as well.”

“Of course,” Argenti presented a chivalrous smile, starting to type on the tablet as Aventurine requested.

Aventurine quietly mused as he glanced around the shop, the soft taptaptap filling the quiet space while the afternoon glow casted a warm, golden light over the shop.

100 roses, huh.

“Is it alright if I can ask you who this bouquet is for?” Aventurine inquired, mildly curious but purely to hold a polite conversation with the customer. He half-expected the man to boast about the power of romance or whatever spiel he had heard a million times about how he needed to profess his undying love to someone.

However, Argenti’s lips settled into a warm smile at the question—something that seemed more like adoration than mere confidence.

“There is someone that I cherish and hold deeply in my heart,” Argenti began. “And I believe the roses would be able to express my devotion and desires to be with them for as long as we live.”

So, is this a love confession?

Aventurine nodded. “They must sound like a wonderful person.”

“They are the most beautiful soul I have ever met in my life,” Argenti replied. Aventurine saw his face lit up brightly as if he was excited to talk about the person of interest. “I admire everything about them: their ambitions, their dedication to their work, and how truly soft and beautiful their heart is, even if they wouldn’t admit it. When they accepted me as their lover, I’ve never felt more blessed in my life.”

Oh. Argenti’s actually in a relationship.

Aventurine squinted as Argenti handed the tablet back to him. Aventurine took the tablet carefully, the aches surfacing as he looked down at the digital words that began to blur.

“It must be wonderful to fall in love with them”

…

Robin had entered the break room when she saw Aventurine sitting at the table, burying his face into his hands.

“Aventurine? Are you okay?”

“I’m going to die, Robin.”

Robin widened her eyes, genuinely concerned (bless her soul). “Are you hurt? Should I call Jade? Or the ambulance?”

“Maybe,” Aventurine mumbled gravely. “I have to do a custom arrangement.”

Robin looked puzzled for a moment before she lit up, her wings flapping in excitement. “Isn’t that wonderful though? Your arrangements are very beautiful—”

“It’s 100 roses.”

“Oh,” A pause. The wings drooped as Robin finally registered his predicament. “Would you like me to help you out? De-thorning a huge amount of roses can be…tedious.”

“No, it’s fine. It shouldn’t be too bad,” Aventurine said, removing his hands. But, when he looked over at his co-worker, he saw Robin holding a bouquet of roses herself.

Are you serious?

“Where did you get that?” Aventurine blurted out.

Robin smiled shyly, her wings fluttering once again. “My girlfriend surprised me with this when she dropped me off here.”

“That sounds cute,” Aventurine grinned, which made Robin’s wings timidly cover her face. “She must be a lovely person.”

“She is, truly,” Robin said, setting the bouquet of roses on the table. “Without her, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to pursue music. She says that I’ve changed her life, but in reality, she’s the one that changed mine, and I couldn’t be more than grateful for her.”

It was the same sense of genuine warmth and adoration that he picked up from the previous customer today, except this time it was from Robin. Whatever it was—Aventurine wasn’t sure exactly how to process it.

“It’s nice to hear that you two can support and love each other like that,” Aventurine commented.

“Hehe,” Robin hummed. “I hope that you can also find someone special in your life someday.”

He knew it was an innocent, kind, and wishful comment. But—well, he was unfortunately in a predicament where he doesn’t exactly want that at all.

Regardless, Aventurine replied with a thanks when a phone buzzed softly on the table. He only spared a glance at the ID before he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Aventurine, are you busy?”

“No, I’m not. What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be in your lab?”

“No,” A hint of distaste. “I’m at a conference on another campus right now. I initially thought that the conference would end on time, but they’ve extended it until 7 PM.”

Aventurine leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling, ignoring the uncomfortable nerves settling in his body. “Is that so?” Aventurine murmured. “Sounds like things have been busy for you today.”

“Unfortunately.”

“What? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Being busy isn’t always a good thing.”

“I guess you're right. You kind of suck at remembering to eat when you’re too focused on something.”

A grumble. “Says the one with a cold. Have you eaten lunch and taken your medicine?”

Aventurine laughed a little. “I have, I have. Have you eaten anything yet?”

“I already did.” A brief pause. “How are you feeling right now?”

“I’m starting to notice what the most common question is latel—“

“Answer.”

Aventurine sighed and gave Robin a small wave as she headed out to man the shop. “Better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Don’t push yourself any further.” As Aventurine expected, Ratio was unconvinced. “Do you need me to order dinner for you?”

“Doc, I’m fine. 100%. Seriously, you worry too much,” Aventurine joked, earning a mutter.

“I’m not—”

Aventurine could hear a faint sound of chatters in the background. Was Ratio calling him in the middle of the conference? There’s no way.

The thought made Aventurine laugh a bit, prompting a confused what is it? from the other side.

“You should go before you get in trouble,” Aventurine teased. “It wouldn’t be good if you got called out for being distracted.”

A reluctant sigh. “I’ll see you at home.”

“See you.”

The call ended with a simple click, leaving Aventurine in his solitude in the break room. He glanced at the bouquet of roses sitting on the table.

Aventurine sighed heavily, placing his phone down and resting his head on his arms. His eyes fixed at the deep taunting reds that laid in front of him.

…

Ratio rubbed his temple before he stashed his phone and stared at his tablet.

— CASE #143 (REVISITED) —

The floral growth has increased significantly 32 days after arrival. The symptoms has evolved from coughing up flower petals to vomiting fully bloomed azaleas. 

The patient has reported an increase in intrusive thoughts and depressive episodes.

They have requested to prohibit [REDACTED] from visiting starting today.

“Tired already?” To his annoyance, the puppet and Ruan Mei had left the lecture hall to find him standing at the doors outside. “I get it though. I’m bored too,” Herta said with a yawn.

“Who would’ve thought that they’d extended the conference to another three hours?” Ruan Mei commented, fixated on her own tablet. “Unfortunately, it seems like there’s been extremely slow progress with the research on other campuses. The furthest development so far is growing and retaining a bud for a week.”

“Which means, we’re all on the same page, basically,” Herta remarked. “Ours die in less than a few days.”

"And we haven't gotten anywhere past that," Ratio muttered, frustrated. “I suppose that’s what happens when you put together a bunch of incompetent or apathetic people on research that doesn’t allow for either.”

“Ouch,” Herta snickered. “Are you projecting?”

Ratio glared, but he could not confirm nor deny it. 

Of all of the geniuses, intelligents, and doctors in the universe, yet they either couldn’t figure it out or couldn’t care less about such a disease. In their eyes, intimacy was nothing more than an abstract nightmare to work with.

I am capable of having romantic relationships and I understand the significance of them.

Yeah, right.

Because here he is—struggling to grasp the concept of it all.

…

The sun had long settled below the ground by the time Ratio had finally made his way home.

As he expected, for all 5 hours, no one in the conference couldn’t provide any useful insight other than what everyone else already knew. If anything, it only raised more questions than answers.

What conditions causes the flowers to proliferate at an increasing rate?

Why would surgically removing the flowers result in systematized amnesia?

What were the conditions necessary to contract the disease?

Why is it that some people have the disease while others who had fallen in love remained unaffected?

— A PERSONAL QUESTION —

What did it mean to be in love?

Ratio wearily slid the key into the lock, opening the door to a dark apartment. He expected to hear or see his roommate pop up from the corner, but it was pure silence when he walked in.

Ratio tore his shoes off, placed his bag on top of the kitchen island, and walked to the living room, figuring that Aventurine must’ve been taking a nap again. But, he found the couch empty and the table cluttered with a tablet, scattered papers, and a laptop.

Out of mild interest, Ratio looked at the papers to see notes and equations scribbled messily all over the paper. Then, he glanced over at the laptop—paused on a scene from Aventurine’s show.

— S2 EP. 10 OF SUN’S SONATA —

Ratio vaguely recalled watching this with Aventurine when they first moved in together.

There was a lavish party, full of bodies seeking a good time. Yet, among the sea of laughter and champagne glasses, the protagonist only searched for them.

Ratio pulled away from the table and walked down the hallway, his footsteps filling the space in the empty apartment. He approached Aventurine’s closed door and knocked on it gently.

“Hello?”

No response. It was merely out of concern that he slowly opened the door, hoping to check up on whether or not Aventurine was doing fine. Except, there was no one on the bed—or in the room at all.

Where did he go?

Ratio closed the door behind him and walked into his own room, the footsteps trailing behind him faintly.

The apartment was silent—reminiscent of when he lived alone, and when Aventurine’s room was nothing more than a study room with a desk and a bunch of books everywhere.

It wasn’t as if Ratio hadn’t been home alone before. In fact, silence like this was preferable because it helped him focus on his studies. Nothing to distract him or force him out of his work.

Ratio sat on his chair and pulled out his phone. He was going to check the time, but instead, he placed the phone against his ear.

The phone rang once before it clicked.

“Hello?”

Ratio exhaled quietly, “Where did you go?”

A voice came through softly. “I’m out on a stroll right now. But, I’ll be home soon. You need something?”

“No.” Ratio pushed his hand against his hair, leaning over on his desk. “Just checking in on you.”

A small laugh. “If you say so. I’ll be at the plaza we found, if you need me for anything.”

Ratio stared up at the lights in the ceiling. “Be careful.”

Another hum. “I will.”

The phone ended with a click.

The air was still—as stale as the lecture hall from this morning. 

He should open the windows, Ratio thought, glancing out of his door and down the hallway.

…

The waterfall poured over like a veil, cascading endlessly into the river below. Aventurine stared down, resting his head on one arm on the railing and the other arm slung over with a can of SoulGlad in hand. 

It had been a while since he drank, but after a long day, Aventurine figured this was a good time to crack one (or a few) open.

The alcohol had managed to help him forget about the chills that lived in body, along with the terrible aching that basically rendered his whole body sore from coughing up roses like it was some kind of charity event.

Was this the type of scenario hopeless romantics were dying for?

Haha.

Funny.

Aventurine sighed heavily before downing the last of his beverage, only to hear someone approach him.

“So, this is where you’ve been?”

Aventurine dragged his eyes upward to see Ratio peering from the dark. “You look worse for wear,” Aventurine remarked wryly, slightly surprised to see Ratio had came over.

Ratio narrowed his eyes, watching as Aventurine kneeled to the ground to stash the empty can into a plastic bag beside him. “Are you aware that you’re sick?”

“I am.” Aventurine nonchalantly pulled out two cans and extended one toward Ratio. “Want one?”

“You aren’t supposed to be drinking.”

“It’s only for tonight. It’ll be fine,” Aventurine shook the drink. “You look like you might need it.”

Ratio stared down at the can before he took it and popped it open, earning an approving look from Aventurine.

“How was your conference?” Aventurine asked, standing up to pop open his own can and take a sip. Ratio replied wordlessly with a twisted face, making Aventurine chuckle. “Not good?”

“No,” Ratio said bitterly, taking a long sip of the alcohol that left a gentle burn in his mouth. “I haven’t been able to make much progress, and no one else has either.”

“Oh?” Aventurine drawled. “That’s a first. Did you hit a roadblock?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be for you.”

It was when Aventurine lifted up his drink that Ratio noticed Aventurine’s hands were littered with bandages all over—some wrapped around his fingers tightly.

“What about you?” Ratio asked.

Aventurine tilted his head. “What about me?”

“You can tell me if you don’t want me to pry,” Ratio continued, “But I doubt you’re here to admire the scenery.”

Aventurine scoffed. “I can admire nature,” he replied jokingly, until he noticed Ratio’s gaze drifting to his hand. Sighing, Aventurine lifted his hand toward Ratio with a half-hearted smile. “I spent most of my shift de-thorning flowers. Got pricked like hell, so that was fun. But guess what order I got today?”

“What?”

Aventurine looked up at the waterfall. “A bouquet for 100 roses.”

Ratio tapped his finger on the railing. That must've been part of the reason for the bandages. “Is this for a confession?”

“Nope, they’re in a relationship,” Aventurine replied, tipping the SoulGlad into his mouth until he drained the can completely. He exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warm fizzle settling in his throat. “The customer seemed smitten over them. 100 roses though, isn’t that crazy?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes when Aventurine kneeled to fetch another drink. “How many did you buy?”

“Fifteen. They were on sale.”

“How many did you even drink?”

“Three,” Aventurine slurred. When he pulled out another can, he felt a warm grasp around his wrist. He turned over to see Ratio had kneeled down as well, a firm expression that resembled a concerned doctor. “I’m a moderate drinker. I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Just tonight, and then I’m done.”

“Just—don’t over do it,” Ratio said. Aventurine smiled lazily as thanks before he sat on the floor and popped it open to drink it.

Ratio sat next to Aventurine, sighing as he finished his first and went for his second.

“Hey, Ratio.”

“What is it?”

“Isn’t the idea of love scary for you?”

Ratio snapped his 2nd can open when Aventurine let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, sorry,” Aventurine said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “I should probably stop talking about it. It’s been on my mind for a while, but that means I should cut back on the shows and—”

“Explain your question.”

“What?”

Ratio sighed, tapping his finger on the cold, metallic can. “I’m entertaining your thoughts. So, go ahead.”

Aventurine turned his eyes towards the gaps of the railings, looking down at the quiet river that eavesdropped on them.

“When you’re in love with someone, you’re basically putting yourself into the hands of this person. Then, there’s the what-ifs , the emotions, the changes. Then, the whole trusting and being completely vulnerable to them,” Aventurine raised his leg to rest his arm and head on it. “And then, after you dedicate your everything to them, something wrong happens, someone gets hurt, and then you lose them forever. How scary is that?”

Ratio swirled his drink around, glancing up at the waterfall that flowed over them.

“I’m sure it’s a universal fear shared,” Ratio said. “I can’t say that I understand it completely, but it’s natural to want to protect yourself from harm. But, in terms of confronting uncertainty, it might just need a leap of faith.”

“Define leap of faith.”

“To take action to find the answers yourself.”

“That sounds kind of vague.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

Aventurine hummed thoughtfully, “So, even you don’t have the answer to everything.”

Ratio hid his frown with a long sip. “I already said I’ve never experienced it myself, so I’m merely speaking on conjectures.”

“Mmhm,” Aventurine simply mumbled in response. “Right.”

The conversation fell into a quiet lull, with only the waterfall and the river conversing for them. 

Aventurine finished his drink and retrieved another one. Wordlessly, Ratio accepted the next drink after finishing his own.

— AN UNINTERRUPTED MOMENT —

Ratio drank and listened in silence as Aventurine closed his eyes and began to hum one of the soundtracks from Sun’s Sonata.

“Aventurine.”

“Hm?”

“You said you might’ve fallen in love before.”

Aventurine’s eyes peeled open halfway, and the humming died into a quieter melody.

Ratio tilted the can slightly, his gaze fixed on it. “May I inquire what that meant?”

A pause.

Aventurine raised his leg, resting his arm and head on it. “You said that sometimes, people are aware of it, and sometimes they aren’t. Right?”

Ratio slightly nodded.

“So, just like how other people might not be aware of it” Aventurine mumbled. “There might’ve been a time I wasn’t aware either.”

There was a long silence drawn out after.

Rather, Ratio wasn’t sure exactly how to respond to that. Instead, he sat there quietly, observing the strange expression on Aventurine’s face—who stared down at the river underneath them.

There was an urge—to speak, to move, to—

That urge was broken when Aventurine suddenly turned to Ratio with a wide grin, as if he had caught Ratio in a gotcha moment.  “But, I was just messing around with you when I said it. Why? Were you curious this whole time?”

Ratio squinted, the sudden shift startling him momentarily. For some reason, Aventurine’s statement allowed his grip to relax on the can—why had he been holding it so tightly in the first place?

“No,” Ratio stated, finishing up his nth drink.

Aventurine only laughed loudly, nudging at Ratio’s leg with his foot. “I never thought you’d be interested in gossip.”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, right.”

Ratio groaned, placing the empty can on the ground and extending a hand out. “Give me another one.”

Aventurine laughed again and obliged. “Full of energy now! I like it.”

“Shut up,” Ratio grumbled. He had no idea what it was that he thought about a second ago, or what he was about to do. Whatever it was, it made Ratio want to drown down the next can.

“Woah, woah. Careful, Scholar God,” Aventurine teased jokingly, prodding at Ratio’s leg again. “I hope you’re not a lightweight,” Aventurine teased. “By the way, did you know that people call you a Scholar God?”

Ratio furrowed his brows. “Scholar what?”

“Scholar God. That’s what your fans call you,” Aventurine closed his eyes with a loud hum, oblivious to Ratio’s lingering gaze. “Apparently, you scored 110% on an exam and taught a whole lecture on a concept that a professor couldn’t get right. Your fan page is very informative and supportive, I guess. Someone even said you’re an attractive genius.”

Ratio sighed, clearly uninterested.

Aventurine opened his eyes halfway. “What? Isn’t that a flattering compliment? Besides, I’m inclined to agree.”

This time, Ratio’s eyes slightly widened. However, Aventurine missed the reaction when he turned to the river. 

“You’re an attractive guy, and a smart one at that too. You’ve got a whole collection of skills and accomplishments, so I’m sure you’ll have no problems if you want a successful future or love life.”

There was it again—the strange significance behind that statement. Ratio searched Aventurine’s expression in the dark, only to grasp a hint of distance in his lazy, drunken smile.

He had no idea what that meant, nor why Aventurine looked like that. All he could vaguely sense was the pressure of Aventurine’s shoe against his leg.

The sound of water danced between them before the autumn air greeted the world with a breeze.

“Aventurine.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go home now.”

…

“You’re so heavy,” Aventurine groaned as he pushed the front door open, allowing both of them to stumble into their little apartment.

Ratio, who had been leaning on Aventurine for support, nearly lost his balance when he pulled away to head to the kitchen.

“Look at you—you’re all red!” Aventurine laughed wildly, sliding into the chair at the island and pointing at Ratio, who was fumbling for a cup of water.

“Shut up,” Ratio hissed at the teasing, chugging down a cup of water before refilling it and shoving it in front of Aventurine. “Drink it.”

Aventurine hummed playfully as he lazily took the cup and sipped on it as requested.

Ratio pulled off his coat, albeit with a slight struggle. “I’m gonna change. You better drink more water before you sleep.”

“I got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, Doc. I got it.”

Ratio seemed slightly satisfied (by a very extremely tiny margin) with his answer. With that, Aventurine listened to Ratio shuffle into the hallway and down to his room, leaving him in company with this cup of water.

Aventurine’s throat relaxed with a generous sip of water, easing the heat that had surrounded his body for the past hour(s?). Then, an open bag on the table caught his drunken attention.

A slurred sound left him as his numb arm reached out for a pack of stapled papers that peeked out.

If it was Ratio’s diary, Aventurine will sincerely apologize on his hands and knees and pretend it never existed.

— CASE #241 —

The patient has been vomiting blood and heads of tulips. They are also experiencing chills and feverish symptoms. The prescribed medicine has only temporarily alleviated the fever, but the vomiting persists.

There are no signs of improvement in their condition yet.

“Aventurine?”

Aventurine’s throat tightened, and he snapped over to see Ratio hovering over him.

“Sorry, I was just…curious,” Aventurine stammered, quickly removing his hands away from the paper and wiping his hands on his jacket. “Uh—is this…a part of your research or?”

“It is,” Ratio replied, his voice heavy from the alcohol and exhaustion combined.

“Really?” Aventurine felt his voice threatening to shake and the chills overcoming the warmth of the alcohol. He snapped his eyes back at the papers. “I thought you were growing plants in some weird environment.”

“Technically, we are,” Ratio said.

There was a long, drawn-out pause. Aventurine wasn’t sure why, but the silence felt increasingly worse the longer it went on. The longer it went on, the more this sense of panic started to overcome him. He couldn’t open his mouth, nor he didn’t want to look.

However, his urge betrayed him, and he glanced back to see Ratio’s unreadable expression.

Then, Ratio opened his mouth.

— 5:55 AM —

“Do you know what the Hanahaki Disease is?”

Chapter Text

laurestinas

7.

Aventurine didn’t like to think too much.

More specifically, he didn’t like to think about certain things.

They made his head hurt and drained him out until he wished he didn’t have a conscious mind anymore. So, he tried to craft his life out as much as he could until he would be able to live most of his days on autopilot—never breaking the cycle of what is ‘normal’ and ‘predictable’.

Why?

Because he hated what-ifs.

Aventurine hated how much what-ifs can disturb and destroy that cycle in a split second. So, he tried not to think a lot.

A clarification:

There are some things that he didn’t mind letting it loiter around in his head sometimes. At most, they only kept him up at night and followed him around quietly to eavesdrop.

Then, there were the ones that he hated the most.

The ones that made him want to shut his brain off completely.

The ones that overwhelmed him to the point he was at the edge of panic and desperation.

The ones that made him want to drop to the ground and grovel pathetically because of the rattling of his internal voice that would never stop talking.

The ones that made his body paralyze in place until something would finally force him to say something, anything.

— EX. 1: DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE HANAHAKI DISEASE IS? —

1. “Yes, I do.”

2. “No, I don’t.”

3. “Maybe.”

4. “Funny you asked, I have it right now.”

5. “I have it. Please help me.”

→

Which one was the right answer?

A hand gently swept his bangs aside, startling him into shooting his eyes at the source.

There wasn’t much to make out in their dark apartment, but Aventurine could see just enough to vaguely make out Ratio’s silhouette.

“Are you okay?” Ratio asked with a tone that suggested mild concern.

That must’ve meant Ratio had been waiting for a response for a couple of minutes now.

“Sorry—I was just,” Thinking. Aventurine coughed out a chuckle. “The disease—Hanahaki Disease. I’ve heard about it, I think. Is that—is that what you’re researching?”

God, that came out so incredibly awkward that Aventurine forced himself to sit still, tense his body, and breath as calm as he could.

If Ratio pressed him about it—well, Aventurine hoped he wouldn’t.

Thankfully, Ratio didn’t.

Ratio didn’t call him out nor interrogate him, nor did he mention Aventurine’s trembling finger rubbing against the edge of the papers.

Instead, Ratio slid a cup of water towards him.

“My lab is creating a simulation to determine the conditions for flowers to grow and spread inside the human body,” Ratio answered. “In other words, we’re recreating the disease.”

Aventurine widened his eyes, stunned.

Recreating the disease?

Then, wouldn’t that mean that Ratio would know something about it?

— EX. 2: AVENTURINE HURRIEDLY OPENED HIS MOUTH —

1. “I actually have it right now.”

2. “Funny thing you brought this up, I’ve had flowers in my mouth for a while and thought I ate some parasitic flower.”

3. “I think I fell in love with someone, and I don’t know who it is, and apparently I fell in love with someone and now I have flowers growing in my lungs. But, I don’t know who it is and I don’t know what to do. Can you help me?”

4. “Please help me.”

→

Becoming an inconvenience.

“This—this person,” Aventurine began, trying to steady his voice. “How did…the disease…how he got the…”

Aventurine faltered when something grazed the inside of his throat, taunting him in his struggle for words. Finally, he forced out: “The whole love thing—it’s true, then?”

Ratio didn’t answer right away. He just stared at him.

At first glance, Ratio seemed like he was getting bored, maybe even uninterested.

The second glance, Ratio seemed like he was thinking about something—skeptical or even suspicious about it.

“A person contracts the Hanahaki Disease when they fall into unrequited love. I assume you’ve heard that much?” Ratio asked.

It must’ve been the calm within Ratio’s voice that made Aventurine relax just a little.

It made him focus more clearly on the third glance of Ratio’s face that Ratio’s heavy eyelids implied mild exhaustion and lingering intoxication, yet the gaze told him he was still present at this moment.

Aventurine gave a small nod, prompting Ratio to continue.

“If you really think about it, it’s a very common occurrence for someone to fall into one-sided love. This means we should be seeing this disease as often as the common cold or flu.”

“Is it not?”

“No,” Ratio replied. “Approximately a quarter of people who experience unrequited love possess a specific condition that makes them susceptible to the disease.”

What the hell does that mean?

“What is it? Do you know it?”

The question made Ratio frown, disrupting his seemingly blank expression.

“No, we’re still looking into that,” Ratio muttered. “We haven’t made much progress because using unrequited love alone as a factor hasn’t been enough to trigger the flower growth.”

“Ah.”

Not only had he fallen in love with someone he didn’t know who, but he was also stupid enough to pick up some condition along the way that made him grow a garden in his lungs?

He should be terrified.

Maybe he is.

But, that thought felt so absurd that Aventurine couldn’t help but smile incredulously at it.

How in the world did he—

Actually, no.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter whatever that condition was or how he got it.

Aventurine shifted his gaze and his hand back to the papers.

“The cure,” Aventurine rubbed the corner of the paper in between his numb index finger and thumb. “Do you know if there’s a cure at all?”

“There isn’t a confirmed cure,” Ratio answered. “However, some patients have survived, completely rid of the flowers, and fully recovered without surgery. This means that it’s very possible to be cured naturally, but no one understands how or why.”

“Without surgery? Can you get surgery to remove the flowers then?”

“Surgery is a viable option.” Ratio paused briefly. “But, it results in selective amnesia regarding the person of interest.”

“Just who they are? Or everything about them.”

“Every single memory and detail.”

Aventurine pinched tightly at the paper before he dragged his attention to whatever was in the kitchen.

There was nothing except for the company of the night shadows that danced around and eavesdropped on them.

Realistically speaking, surgery would have been the first option to consider.

But first, he’s not all that fond with the idea of going to the hospital. And second, if he was in love with someone who happened to be his friend and poof, he suddenly forgot who they were, that wouldn’t make any sense to anyone.

It would only take a little bit of deductive reasoning for anyone to figure out in a minute that he had the Hanahaki Disease….which also meant that they would know that he was in love with that person—stupid in love enough to get the disease.

— A CONCLUSION MADE FROM A HINT OF SHAME —

No one should know about this.

A hand gently tipped his chin up, breaking him out of his daze.

Aventurine dragged his eyes back to Ratio, barely making out the inquisitive and mildly concerned expression.

“What are you thinking about?” Ratio asked, his tone low.

Aventurine thinned his lips, pulling his hand away from the papers apologetically after he noticed the severe wrinkles he vented out.

“Nothing,” Aventurine replied with an attempt of a smile. But, that did nothing to Ratio’s expression.

Ratio let out a deep sigh and tilted his head slowly—a drunk movement. “Your mood has shifted in the last half an hour, and your face shows it as well. If you’re feeling sick, then tell me now, and I’ll take care of you.”

Tell him now.

— EX. 3: “I’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU.” —

1. “I think I fell in love with someone, and I don’t know who it is, and apparently I fell in love with someone and now I have flowers growing in my lungs. But, I don’t know who it is and I don’t know what to do. Can you help me?”

2. “I don’t actually have the cold—it’s the Hanahaki Disease, I think. It’s not bad, but it does hurt. Since you’re studying it, maybe you can help me?”

3. “Please help me.”

→

A problematic inconvenience.

Aventurine exhaled quietly through his mouth.

Deciding.

One…

two…

A mustered smile.

“Aren’t you reliable, even while you’re drunk?” Aventurine cooed jokingly, leaning his head to nuzzle against Ratio’s body. “As expected from a future doctor.”

Ratio grumbled in response, placing a hand on top of Aventurine’s head to stop him before he leaned forward to brush Aventurine’s bangs away from his face.

Maybe Aventurine looked tired, or Ratio himself was exhausted that Ratio eventually said: “It’s getting late. I’ll take you to bed.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Aventurine pulled away to rest his head on the table with a sleepy mumble. “I think I’ll sleep on the couch for a bit.

Ratio’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“It gets cold in my room sometimes.”

“I can just turn up the heat—”

“No, it’s fine,” Aventurine repeated—more insistent than earlier, as he stood up to make his way to the couch. “I’ll go to bed later if you’re really worried about it,” he added as he plopped down and nearly sank into the plush cushions.

“I’m not worried,” Ratio said. Aventurine saw Ratio’s silhouette draw closer towards him until he was standing at the end of the couch. “I just don’t think you’ll be able to get proper rest there.”

“You’d be surprised,” Aventurine hummed playfully, making a show of nuzzling his head onto the armrest both as a joke and as an attempt to satisfy the latter’s concerns.

It probably didn’t, but Ratio only breathed out a heavy sigh before turning on his heels. Quietly, Aventurine watched Ratio disappear past the wall to the hallway, leaving behind a trail of heavy thumps from his footsteps.

It grew fainter and fainter until Aventurine could hear that Ratio had gone to his room.

Goodnight.

Finally, Aventurine allowed his body to shiver—the chills that he had been trying to suppress for a while had assaulted his body that he was shaking intensely.

It was like he was forced into an ice bath for hours, only to get dragged out into the frigid air, and then dunked right back in again.

Aventurine squeezed his body and arms together like a human cocoon, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his face against the back of the couch as an attempt to preserve whatever body heat he had left.

Logically thinking, sleeping in his room would’ve been better—he had a blanket and pillows in there for heat. But even then, it would’ve still felt as cold and, at the moment, the last thing he wanted to do was lock himself up in his room.

It’s irrational, but whatever.

If he got sicker from this, then it is what it is. How worse can it get from here?

On the bright side, there was a possibility of being cured. However it worked, he’d figure it out eventually.

It also meant that he could still test his current hypothesis for getting rid of this disease (because that made the most sense right now).

If it didn’t work, oh well.

If it did, then maybe he’d have a funny story to tell Ratio.

Maybe, if Ratio was still around by that time.

His ears must’ve stuffed up from the cold, because Aventurine didn’t register the footsteps returning to the living room until something heavy draped over him. Then, another weight settled on the couch behind him.

Startled, Aventurine turned his head.

“Ratio?”

“Move over.”

Despite his confusion, Aventurine pushed himself more into the back of the couch.

In a fluid motion, Ratio slipped into the space next to him, tucking a pillow underneath Aventurine’s head before wrapping an arm around Aventurine’s waist to pull him in.

Oh.

That’s new.

It caught him by surprise, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

In fact, the sudden surge of warmth from Ratio was something deeply appreciated at the moment.

Aventurine’s breathing grew less desperate, his shivers gradually calming down as Ratio rested comfortably beside him.

“I thought you were going to bed,” Aventurine murmured.

“I am,” Ratio replied.

“On a bed, in your room.”

“Is this uncomfortable for you?”

“No.” Aventurine exhaled and rested his forehead against the cushion. “I was wondering since you were in your room earlier.”

“I went to get a blanket.”

“Were you planning to sleep on the couch too?”

There was only a tired breath before Ratio’s other hand gently prodded at the back of Aventurine’s head. Wordlessly, Aventurine lifted his head, allowing Ratio to slide his arm underneath.

“Are you warm now?” Ratio asked quietly.

Aventurine squinted and opened his mouth, almost ready to ask what that now meant—but, ah, Ratio had noticed already.

Aventurine nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Yeah, I am. Thank you.”

“Good.”

The living room was filled with a mix of Ratio’s steady breathing and Aventurine’s uneven ones that tried to match Ratio’s calm rhythm. Aventurine traced his eyes around the seams of the cushions in front of him when the aches in his head and chest started to surface.

That was hardly comforting, so he closed his eyes instead.

“Ratio?”

“Hm.”

He must be tired. “Nothing, nevermind.” Aventurine said, but a finger tapped insistently on his shoulder.

“Say it.”

“You should sleep.”

“Aventurine,” Ratio said, and for some reason, the sound of his name made Aventurine mellow out and sink further into the blankets and the arms around him. “Just say it. I’m still awake.”

“It’s a random question.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Aventurine pressed his lips together, thinking for a moment. Then, he murmured: “How long does a person with the Hanahaki Disease live for?”

A pause.

Aventurine couldn’t see Ratio’s face—whether or not Ratio was starting to deduce things, or if he was going to start probing him. He held his breath, hoping that Ratio was too intoxicated to not say anything.

“The longest recorded time was five months—without treatment, and with slow, steady floral growth,” Ratio answered in a low mumble.

“Is that so.”

“Why?”

Aventurine slowly opened his eyes halfway. “Just curious.”

Five months, huh?

That meant he might have about four months and a couple of weeks left—which was a lot shorter than he expected. But, that…also didn’t sound too bad. He could work with that.

Probably.

Maybe.

No, he could.

He’ll make it work.

Aventurine trembled a bit as a chill crept up his spine, burrowing deeper into the blanket as Ratio’s embrace tightened around him.

So warm.

It was weird. He remembered Ratio feeling like sticking a hand right into the hottest part of the fire whenever he touched Ratio. But now, it was more like sitting in front of a fireplace in the middle of the winter.

Maybe it was because Aventurine was about to freeze to death earlier, it felt less intense now?

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

He shifted his body around until he was facing Ratio, who had his eyes closed.

Are you sleeping? Aventurine wanted to ask.

Instead, he lifted his hand to press his fingers against Ratio’s cheek.

Ratio knitted his brows but kept his eyes shut. “Cold.”

Aventurine grinned at the reaction and fully pressed his palm on Ratio’s cheek. Ratio dipped his head in an ambiguous direction, either trying to get away from Aventurine’s cold hand or nuzzle into it—Aventurine couldn’t tell.

He considered messing with Ratio a little longer, but Ratio drew him in even closer until Aventurine’s temple was resting against Ratio’s shoulder.

“Go to sleep,” Ratio muttered tiredly.

Aventurine, slightly surprised by the gesture, felt Ratio’s hand rest against the back of his head—not with enough pressure to push his head down, but enough to make him feel secured.

It wasn’t long until he saw Ratio’s chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

Ah, he actually passed out.

Aventurine quietly sighed and huddled closer to Ratio, appreciating the warmth that quietly soothed both his chills and the thoughts in his head.

(After four months, everything will go back to normal.)

…

Something was screaming at him.

An awful, familiar ear-piercing shrill that demanded attention, attention, attention!

Aventurine groaned and opened his eyes sluggishly, only to have something shine right into his face. He instinctively shriveled up and covered his face with the blanket, hoping that the shrilling would stop and the sun would leave.

But the alarm kept screaming.

And screaming and screaming and screaming and—

Wait.

Aventurine snapped awake and shot his head out of the blanket, frantically searching for the source—that is his phone on the coffee table, vibrating violently. He was about to reach for it, but the arm around his waist held him in place as he tried to move.

Wait.

Aventurine realized that the person hugging him—Ratio, the one who thrived in the morning—was unresponsive. He wasn’t dead since he was still breathing, but Ratio didn’t react at all to the noise.

If Ratio was out cold while Aventurine’s alarm was going off, then—

“Ratio! Wake up!” Aventurine panicked, shaking Ratio vigorously.

Ratio groaned instead, pulling Aventurine in closer before he could get up. “Stop. You move too much.”

“We have 15 minutes to get ready!” Aventurine uttered in disbelief, tapping frantically at Ratio’s back. The arms only tightened around him in retaliation. “Wake up! What the hell happened to your phone?”

Ratio reluctantly peeled his eyes open and shot a glare, clearly annoyed by the morning light flashing into their faces. He begrudgingly removed one arm, grabbed the phone from the table, and turned off the alarm.

Once the phone was silenced, Ratio set it back on the table and settled his arm around Aventurine again.

“There. Go back to sleep,” Ratio mutterd, closing his eyes again. “We’ve only slept for two hours.”

“What? Are you—I swear to—” Aventurine forced himself out of the embrace to sit up and yank the blanket off of them. “Wake up, let’s go!”

“My phone died,” Ratio replied with a groan—a question late but answered with enough conviction like that answered everything else. He grabbed the blanket, but Aventurine’s hands stubbornly tugged it away.

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Aventurine stammered, incredulous now that they were playing tug of war at 7 in the morning.

Both tired and annoyed, Ratio groaned and sat up.

Just as Aventurine was about to feel successful after the hardships, Ratio wrapped an arm around Aventurine’s shoulder and dragged him back down, bringing the blanket with them.

While Ratio could finally relax in comfort, Aventurine was more bewildered than ever.

This guy can’t be serious.

“You—! The train’s going to come soon, and we might miss it if we don’t get ready—”

“I’ve already emailed our professors today about our absences,” Ratio said, opening his eyes just enough to meet Aventurine’s confused ones. “Including your professor for your other lecture.”

Aventurine gaped. “But your lab—”

“I’m working remote today.”

“When did you do this?”

“An hour ago,” Ratio muttered, his voice becoming heavier with exhaustion. “I was going to tell you when you woke up, but I forgot about your alarm. I gave you an explanation. Can we go back to sleep now?”

Aventurine stared at Ratio, dumbfounded, while Ratio’s gaze remained unbothered and sleepy.

“You…” Aventurine stammered, sitting up and running a hand through his hair as he tried to process the situation. Then, Aventurine glanced around at the walls.

Before Ratio could open his mouth to ask, Aventurine suddenly leaned over and dove straight down to pinch Ratio’s cheeks tightly.

“Are you kidding me? You should’ve woken me up and told me anyway!” Aventurine nearly shrilled, aggressively squishing his palms against Ratio’s cheeks. “Or you should’ve said something in the first place, so I wasn’t freaking the—and you were so…! You—you—!”

“Okay! Okay, I get it,” Ratio exclaimed, wincing from the sting (and sudden intrusion on his face), and he quickly grabbed Aventurine’s hands to pull them away. He sat up and dropped his forehead onto Aventurine’s shoulder after, clearly exasperated by the morning ambush. “I apologize. Can we go back to sleep now? Please?”

“Please? Is the Veritas Ratio begging to sleep in on a weekday?”

“For us to sleep in,” Ratio clarified, pulling away to shoot Aventurine a firm look.

Aventurine blinked.

Then, he erupted into a loud laugh, ruffling with Ratio’s hair before Ratio tiredly wrapped his arms around Aventurine and pulled them both back onto the couch.

…

The world around him was distant and hazy—as if he was merely a spectator, watching through the lenses of his own eyes.

— A WINTER DAY —

Ratio recognized this as a memory from last year.

Ratio was sitting on a campus bench, his hair damp from the snowfall as a thick fog draped around the world in its veil. Snow crunched softly beneath his feet with each small movement he made while his cold fingers loosely gripped his phone.

He had a phone call, to which he couldn’t remember the details of it now (might’ve been the usual annoyances of dealing with other people’s incompetence). But, the call had irritated him enough for his mood to sour.

He had thought about heading home as he felt two pats on his shoulders from behind. He turned his head just in time for a finger to poke his cheek.

“Morning,” Aventurine greeted, gifting him a wide smile.

(Ratio vaguely recalled the sentiment of how bright the purple-blue eyes seemed within the snowy haze.)

Ratio narrowed his eyes as Aventurine sat beside him. “What are you doing here?” He asked, although his tone was harsher than he intended it to be. But Aventurine didn’t seem fazed by it.

“I saw you and wanted to say hi,” Aventurine shrugged before he tilted his head. “Though, I’d imagine that phone call was horrible. You look like you want to kill someone right now.”

Ratio creased his brows wearily when Aventurine had let out a laugh—a laugh Ratio was most familiar with whenever Aventurine wanted to mess around with him.

Even though he was irritated and annoyed at this moment, Ratio didn’t find the laugh, nor the extra presence, entirely unwelcoming.

(He was too tired to bother shooing Aventurine away. Nothing more than that.)

Ratio’s eyes lazily scanned over to Aventurine, and the first thing he noticed was Aventurine trembling underneath his hoodie and how puffy and flushed his face was.

“You do realize it’s December, right?” Ratio asked, mildly scolding Aventurine’s underdressed attire.

But, again, Aventurine wasn’t fazed by the sharp tone. He only smiled and started stomping softly on the snow to make it crunch.

“It is,” Aventurine hummed, pushing the snow forward with his heels. “Happy late Christmas.”

“That’s not what I meant. And it’s been 5 days.”

“Then?”

Ratio looped his fingers on his scarf, unraveling it from his neck to remove it. The frost hardly bothered him once he pulled it off completely to hold it out between them.

“Here.”

Ratio saw Aventurine blink and stare down at the scarf for a bit—a sign of confusion and hesitation. These signs didn't come up often for the past few weeks he had known Aventurine, so he faintly wondered what would disturb Aventurine’s usual playful quips and wit.

Apparently, this was one of them.

Aventurine didn’t move even after a moment had passed, so Ratio gave the scarf a shake.

That was enough to break Aventurine out of it—who eventually gave him a faint smile.

“Thank you,” Aventurine said finally, accepting the scarf.

A comfortable silence was drawn between them as Ratio watched Aventurine tuck the scarf warmly around his neck.

Ratio exhaled a foggy breath and looked up at the clouds that monitored them quietly. “Did you finish moving all of your stuff in?”

“I did,” Aventurine answered, blowing warm air into his hands sheepishly. “Thank you again for letting me live with you.”

“If you need anything, then let me know.”

“Anything? How about we celebrate Christmas since we missed out on it?”

Ratio narrowed his eyes when Aventurine flashed a grin, lifting his hand to adjust the scarf around Aventurine. “Again, it has already passed. Besides, I don’t celebrate holidays.”

“Are you religious?”

“No, I’m not. I just don’t. I assume you do.”

“I don’t really either,” Aventurine shrugged. “Or, actually, I guess I kind of do since I buy the ready-made meals and watch old movies. But,” Aventurine tilted his head playfully, his eyes crinkling. “I think it’ll be fun to celebrate something with you.”

“What makes you think that?”

It seemed like his question prompted something because Ratio watched Aventurine get up and move to stand directly in front of him.

Then, Aventurine struck out two closed fists.

“Pick one,” Aventurine invited, a glint in his eyes. “If you win, you’re safe.”

Ah, here it is, Ratio simply thought—though he wasn’t sure why he was expecting an antic like this from Aventurine.

— A SMALL CORRECTION —

Expecting → Looking forward to

Ratio scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief before he lifted his hand and tapped on Aventurine’s left fist.

Aventurine flipped and opened the chosen hand.

There was nothing inside.

This loss delighted Aventurine for some reason, and Ratio wasn’t sure what that meant nor where this was going.

He was about to move his hand away, but Aventurine suddenly grabbed his hand and tugged him off the bench.

“You lost,” Aventurine declared. Ratio, holding Aventurine’s hand, was both confused and awfully concerned by how cold Aventurine’s hand was. Though, Aventurine didn’t allow him to voice that concern when Aventurine grabbed his other hand. “Now you’re forced to help me make an angel.”

“An angel—What?” Ratio said, perplexed, as Aventurine began tugging at his hands lightly. “Hold on—”

“One…”

“Aventurine, you do realize that you’re literally wearing nothing that handles snow.”

“Two…”

“Don’t tell me you’re serious—”

“Three!”

In an instant, Aventurine tipped backwards, pulling Ratio down with him.

— HOW THE REST OF THE MEMORY WAS SUPPOSED TO PLAY OUT —

Aventurine’s laughter echoed in his ears as Ratio instinctively grabbed hold of Aventurine, his other arm bracing for impact.

They’d tumble onto each other, their bodies sinking deep into the cold blanket that enveloped them.

Aventurine would smile like a fool, and Ratio would scold him after.

But, it didn’t really matter, because Ratio would find himself doing whatever Aventurine wanted him to do.

(He was too tired to bother protesting. Nothing more.)

As a spectator of his own memory, Ratio pulled Aventurine in and braced himself for the impact of the freezing, white blanket.

Just as his body hit the ground—

The world shifted.

There wasn’t snow that clung onto him and Aventurine.

No clouds or fog or the cold air or the scenery of the university campus.

Instead, Ratio found himself standing in the middle of the living room.

It was still hazy—the apartment, that is. There wasn’t a temperature in here: Neither hot nor cold in any way.

Only…dull, if that made sense.

He was still dreaming, and he was well aware of that—the details of the living room were too indistinct and vague, despite living here for years now. Meanwhile, his arms hung by his side, no longer holding onto Aventurine, who had just been with him moments ago.

That part—Aventurine’s sudden absence—wasn’t confusing. He knew this scene wasn’t real.

It was the fact that there was something wrong that made this dream unsettling.

The problem was figuring out why.

Ratio turned on his heel, heading down what should be the hallway and toward the first door on the right.

His hand automatically stuck out for the doorknob and—

Something was off.

Dread was the right word; Ratio was dreading something, and not in a sense of when he had to work with incompetent people.

Something was wrong.

Something was gone.

(Someone.)

Ratio urgently twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.

“Aventurine?”

He was greeted by nothing.

Not by an old study desk or bookshelf from when Ratio used to live alone.

Not by a messy bed or furniture that Aventurine had decorated the room with after he moved in.

Not by Aventurine, who’d flash him a relaxed smile and say something like “Ratio! What’s up?”.

It was empty.

Completely empty.

— CORRECTION: THERE ARE THREE THINGS —

Ratio.

A key.

And a beautiful, red ro-

…

Ratio snapped his eyes open as a water bottle gently tapped against his forehead, welcoming him awake with a cold kiss. Blinking through bleary eyes, he turned his head to see Aventurine standing by the couch, leaning over him.

“Morning,” Aventurine hummed quietly as he sat beside Ratio. “Rough sleep?”

“A bit,” Ratio muttered. A dull throb struck his head as he pushed himself to sit up when Aventurine held out a bottle to him.

It wasn’t until after a sip of water that he realized he was really, really dehydrated.

“Water with electrolytes,” Aventurine said, amused as Ratio was nearly chugging down the bottle. “I made you some food too. Hopefully that helps with your hangover.”

“Thank you,” Ratio groaned once he had finished nearly the entire bottle of water. Once his haze of sleep had cleared up from his vision, he finally noticed that Aventurine was fully dressed, his shoes on, and his bed hair tidied.

“I’m going to work in a bit,” Aventurine explained before Ratio could ask. “I don’t have a hangover, I took medicine, and I already ate breakfast.”

Ratio blinked, slightly surprised as Aventurine graced him a proud look after anticipating all of Ratio’s questions correctly.

(Funny enough, that was comforting for him to know he was wide awake.)

“Good,” Ratio replied, though his hand instinctively reached out to press against Aventurine’s forehead anyway. It was still warmer than usual, and Aventurine’s skin was a touch paler than before.

That touch brought back pieces of his dream earlier—how Aventurine thought it was a good idea to throw them both into the icy blanket, laughing carelessly as if he hadn’t been trembling from the cold before that. And how Ratio had to grab and hold Aventurine just so Aven—they both didn’t get hurt mid-fall.

Ratio couldn’t recall the rest of everything else, but there was a hint of lingering adrenaline buzzing through his nerves.

(Gone was the only word that he could grasp onto.)

Reluctantly, Ratio pulled his hand away from Aventurine’s forehead. “What time are you going home today?”

“I’ll be home around 5 today,” Aventurine said. “It’s a short day for me, so I can go home and do my homework after. You going back to sleep after this?”

“No, I’ll finish up some assignments once you head out.”

“Don’t overdo it and work yourself to death.”

“Says the ill one himself,” Ratio shot back, earning a michevious ‘hehe’. “Are you coughing at all or anything?”

“Nope,” Aventurine smiled and tilted his head to the side. “Not at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

A pause.

Ratio quietly sighed and tore his eyes away from the latter, draining the last of his water in an attempt to calm the rest of his nerves. “Let me know if you need anything, Aventurine,” Ratio said, placing the empty bottle to his side. “And don’t push yourself too much.”

When Ratio returned his attention back to Aventurine, Aventurine had gifted him an inquisitive expression. “What?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?”

Ratio squinted briefly before he furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes. “No, and I’m not worrying. I’m just saying.”

“What? Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not,” Ratio clicked his tongue. “I’m being serious, Aventurine.”

“I know, I know,” Aventurine said, half joking and half apologetic. “Thank you, though. If you also need anything, then you can let me know too.”

— A REQUEST FROM LONG AGO —

Anything?

How about we celebrate Christmas?

Ratio leaned over tiredly, resting his head on top of Aventurine’s shoulder. His arm twitched, tempted to wrap it around Aventurine, but instead, Ratio settled his hand on top of Aventurine’s.

Aventurine welcomed the gesture by moving his finger to rest on top of Ratio’s hand and resting the side of his face against Ratio’s—humming a soft tune that Ratio recognized as another soundtrack from Sun’s Sonata.

“Aventurine,” Ratio began. “Let’s do something for Christmas.”

An arm shift—a movement of surprise.

“I thought you don’t celebrate holidays.”

“I don’t,” Ratio’s voice fell into a quiet mutter. “I’m only curious how you would though.”

At this part, he expected Aventurine to make a quip and start teasing him for making an unusual request. But, that didn’t come instantly like he predicted.

Instead, Ratio felt Aventurine tap his finger on top of his hand—thinking quietly.

(What does Aventurine look like right now?)

“If you’re…okay with it,” Aventurine said, his voice softer than Ratio expected, “then we can do something together.”

The last word drew out into a long silence.

They both remained in their spots: Ratio resting his head on Aventurine’s shoulder, and Aventurine resting the side of his face on Ratio’s. Their fingers gently rubbed against their hands—a subconscious gesture from both of them.

Neither of them moved, nor made the thought to do so.

— A SHARED EMOTION OF A REAL MOMENT —

bashfulness

(noun.)

When you don’t want the other person to see your face because you don’t know what your own face looks like.

…

Let’s do something for Christmas.

It wasn’t something Ratio would say, especially since Aventurine remembered him mentioning that he didn’t celebrate holidays.

And even if Ratio didn’t say anything, Aventurine figured that he would’ve made him do something for Christmas—probably along the lines of cooking a festive dinner, binge-watching something, and playing card games for the rest of the night.

So, perhaps it was nice to know that Ratio was voluntary to the idea.

(That is, if he could make it.)

The clock struck 3 PM when Aventurine coughed into a tissue, discreetly balling up the rose petals inside before his coworker stumbled into the store, shivering beneath her scarf and coat.

“Hey, Robin,” Aventurine greeted, tucking the tissue into his pocket before he finished wiping down the register counter. “You doing alright? How was the delivery?”

“It was so cold,” Robin trembled, rubbing her arms vigorously to warm herself. “It was so windy outside that I thought my wings were going to fly off.”

“Do you need to take a break? The heater’s on, and I left out a pack of hand warmers in the back.”

“Thank you, Aventurine,” Robin smiled in appreciation. “Do you need any help though? I can do something in the back.”

“Jade brought back some arrangements from a business event today. Could you help me take out the flowers so we can donate them later?”

Robin lit up. “Leave it to me!”

(How considerate, Jade had commented one time as Robin was helping her with cleaning the vases one time. Aventurine knew that it was also a jab at him since he definitely wasn’t when he was newly hired.)

“Thanks, Robin. I’ll take care of the ones you don’t finish.”

Robin gave him an eager nod and a thumbs up. Once she disappeared into the break room, he exhaled quietly and leaned against the counter, surveying the quiet, empty shop.

To review his current situation again:

1. He has the Hanahaki Disease because he has unrequited love and some specific condition attached to it.
2. He doesn’t know who he’s in love with.
3. Surgery would make him have amnesia.
4. It is entirely possible to be cured, and also very plausible that he can cure himself by moving on from said person.
5. To do point 4, he’ll need to figure out who he is in love with.

Once he has done point 5, everything else should be straightforward.

But, the only problem was that he had around four and a half months left, and he was very aware that trying to resolve things with unrequited love would take some time—assuming this person was someone he knew.

Best case scenario, Aventurine could find that person within this week and start the process of getting over his feelings, or whatever the hell he had with this person.

Worst case scenario, he’d just get surgery. If the person he forgot really was a friend, he could probably manage to act his way through and pretend to know them so he didn’t look entirely suspicious.

After all, what if surgery didn’t completely erase his memories and that he’d remember that he had the Hanahaki Disease at some point? That’ll probably make it easier for that amnesiac version of himself to avoid putting himself in that situation again.

But, what if he did forget the fact that he did have the disease? Then, would everything happen all over again? Or…

Shoot.

Aventurine closed his eyes, lifting his head up to take in a long, deep breath. Then, he lowered his gaze to stare out at the colorful garden of flowers that adorned the shop.

There was no point of thinking too much into it.

He’d write a journal, logging in everything that he knew so far. That way, for whatever reason he decided to get surgery, his amnesiac self would have something to reference to.

(And maybe burn it after.)

There was a chime of a bell, interrupting his thoughts to notify him of a woman stumbling into the shop.

“Hello, welcome.” Aventurine greeted politely.

The woman seemed nervous—not as nervous as the customer with a talking tail—while her hair was a bit frizzled from the wind blowing outside. She had made her way to the shelves where a particularly obnoxious, red batch of roses sat prettily.

Fourth one today, Aventurine thought blankly, glancing away to retrieve a paper towel from under the counter so he could wipe the dirt off of his hands.

As he balled it up and tossed it into the trash, the woman timidly approached the counter, holding a bouquet that was huge in her arms, and a blank card adorned with a ribbon.

“I would like to buy this please.” The woman mumbled quietly.

Oh.

This was the same person who asked for Ratio’s phone number some time ago.

Well, this is awkward.

Aventurine, as normal as he possibly could, began ringing up her purchase. “Of course. Here’s the price for the bouquet and the card,” He said, watching her fumble for her wallet. “You have a great eye, ma’am; that was the freshest one out of the batch.”

“Ah, thank you,” The woman stammered, but it seemed like the compliment helped her relax her nerves. “I wanted to give this to someone and…god, I really hope they like it.”

“I’m sure they will,” Aventurine said as he took her credit card to process the transaction. “They’re very lucky to receive such lovely flowers from you.”

The woman clutched onto her flowers, but seemed pleased and a little gleeful by that. “No, I’m very lucky that a person like him exists. He’s a very intelligent and elegant man and I couldn’t help but admire him for so long. I thought this finally might be a good time to gather my courage and try to get closer with him, so I hope these flowers will help me with that.”

Courage, huh?

If that was the case, it must’ve been nerve-wracking for her to ask for Ratio’s number, as funny as the situation seemed when Aventurine spectated (He’s a little sorry for that now).

But it seemed like she had finally found someone who she could give flowers to, so that was probably a good thing.

Good for her, he thought as he handed her the credit card.

“I wish you the best of luck, ma’am,” Aventurine offered with a polite smile.

“Thank you so much!” The woman replied, bowing her head in gratitude.

Aventurine watched the roses sway with each bounce of her heels as she left the shop—the nervousness that she had entered with seemingly disappearing after she had left.

Once she had disappeared, Aventurine broke his demeanor—resting his face and his body as he leaned against the counter again to gaze around blankly.

Courage to get closer with someone—

(What does that mean?)

“Aventurine.”

He turned to see Robin peeking out from the break room door, a bit of flower residue sticking on her face. “It’s your lunch now, right?”

“Oh, right,” Aventurine said, glancing at the clock. Now that he realized it, his legs were getting numb from standing around all day. “Do you still need a break? I can work a little longer.”

“No, no. It’s fine,” Robin laughed nervously, stepping out fully to dust off her apron. “Jade will get mad at you if you skip your break again.”

Aventurine scoffed. “Yeah, right. That woman isn’t going to—” He started before a bell chime interjected him. Both he and Robin turn to see a familiar blue-haired man with red-golden eyes stepping inside—much to Aventurine’s surprise.

“Oh, hello Ratio.” Robin greeted Ratio, who offered her a nod of acknowledgement as he approached the counter.

“Hello, Robin. I hope you are well today.”

“I hope you are as well,” Robin said, bowing her head slightly before she glanced at Aventurine. “I’m going to finish up the flowers really quick and come back out.”

“I can do it—”

“No, no! It’s fine. I’ll be back out in a minute.”

“Uh, sure,” Aventurine said, watching his coworker quickly slip her way back into the room.

“Sorry, am I intruding?” Ratio asked.

Aventurine turned around and shook his head, still puzzled by Ratio’s appearance. “No—no, you weren’t. But, aren’t you supposed to be at home?”

“I went to a cafe to focus on work,” Ratio explained, but Aventurine caught a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone. He must’ve decided to take a break from that or that didn’t work out at all. “Are you busy?”

Aventurine shook his head. “Nope. I just got on my break.”

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet.”

Aventurine flickered his attention to the take-out bag that Ratio placed on the counter. Confused and slightly curious, Aventurine took the bag and peered into it to see a large soup container and a small bag of toasted sliced baguettes.

“You didn’t bring lunch or anything, right?” Ratio asked. Aventurine looked up to answer his question, but as they caught each other’s gazes, it felt like…

…Like they were back at the couch again.

“Uh—”

Aventurine rubbed his sweaty palm on the side of his face awkwardly while Ratio had turned his head to stare down at the large sunflowers on one of the shelves.

Ratio hurriedly opened his mouth. “If you did bring something, I’ll take it back home and—”

“No, no. I—” Aventurine cleared his throat when he felt something climbing up his throat. “I didn’t expect you to bring anything, and I don’t have anything to eat either so—uh, thank you.”

Before any other awkwardness settled in, Aventurine quickly shook his head and exaggerated a deep breath. “Anyways! Do you still have more work to do?”

Ratio seemingly caught on with this as he turned his head back around, looking less reserved than a second ago.

“I do.”

“Are you planning to go home then?”

Ratio glanced over at the clock hanging nearby, staring for a good minute. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll head back to the cafe again.”

“Ah.”

Upon a closer glance, Aventurine noticed a faint flush on Ratio’s face and the tip of his ears, as well as how slightly disheveled his hair was. He then turned towards the window to see a strong wind howling at the people and the world outside.

Ratio really walked all the way over here in that weather.

“Would you like to work here then?” Aventurine offered, gesturing Ratio toward the door at the back of the shop. “We have a break room back there. I think it should be spacious and quiet enough, and we have a heater there too. But, only if you want to—”

An enthusiastic clap gently prod itself into the conversation, drawing both of their attentions to Aventurine’s coworker, who had slipped back out again.

“It’s very warm inside,” Robin chimed brightly, her wings fluttering excitedly. “And I’m sure Aventurine would appreciate some company while he eats since it can get a little lonely sometimes.”

Aventurine shot her a dumbfounded look. “What? No—no, I’m fine! I was just offering because it’s cold outside and I wouldn’t want Ratio to freeze to death. Plus—” He snapped back to Ratio. “You have to work on your lab, so I thought it would be convenient if you worked here instead of going all the way back. But, it’s 100% fine if you can’t stay for whatever reason—I was just offering and—”

“If it’s fine then,” Ratio interrupted before Aventurine could continue.

Aventurine secured his rambling mouth shut as Robin beamed, “Of course you can,” She said before she smiled at her coworker. “Go take your break. I’ll keep an eye on the shop.”

“Thank you…” Aventurine managed to say, grabbing the take-out bag and scooting out of the counter.

Aventurine gestured for Ratio to follow him with a wave of a sheepish hand, and Ratio fell a step behind. Ratio quietly observed the shop’s garden along the way, noting the diverse colorful arrangement of flowers that spectated them jovially.

(Ratio wondered if this simple scenery was why Aventurine was working here.)

“Sorry, it’s a little messy in there,” Aventurine said, opening the door wide to let them both into the break room.

The room was larger than Ratio had expected—and much, much warmer for him to be comfortable enough to take off his scarf. His eyes landed on one of the two large tables where piles of roses laid on—the red color contrasting against the white table.

Aventurine hastily pushed the roses to one side of the table so Ratio could have room to work on. “Sorry, ignore all of this,” Aventurine said, an embarrassed chuckle leaving him.

“Is this one of your orders?” Ratio asked, sliding into one of the empty chairs as as Aventurine quickly dusted the remaining dirt with his hand.

“Yeah. Remember when I told you about the 100 roses?” Aventurine hummed, sitting across from Ratio.

“Is that what it is?”

“Mmhm. I’m almost done with it though, thank god,” Aventurine said, relieved as he picked up a clamp-like tool. “Just have a few more left before I set everything up.” He playfully fidgeted with the tool in his hand before he noticed Ratio eyeing at it. Amused, Aventurine added, “A rose stripper. You use this to remove stuff from the stem.”

“Is that what you’ve been using?” Ratio inquired, earning a nod.

“Yeah. But, there’s other ways to take the thorns off,” Aventurine hummed as he picked up a rose. Ratio watched him clamp the tool around the stem and pull it down, stripping away the thorns and leaves in one smooth motion. “I used to use a knife when I first started.”

“I’m assuming that what you’re using is more efficient?”

“Somewhat yeah.”

Ratio continued to watch Aventurine strip off the leaves and thorns from the roses, each practiced motion becoming quicker after every other flower. The purple-blue eyes remained fixated as Aventurine kept quiet to stay focused.

If only Aventurine transferred this to his school work.

Ratio’s eyes dragged to the pile of roses that observed them.

It bothered him the longer he stared—not because of the flowers themselves, but because there was something about them that gave him the same sense of unease from earlier today.

(Something’s weird.)

Aventurine broke the brief silence with a hushed cough. “Sorry, is this too bothersome for you?”

“No, it’s not.” Ratioraised a brow. “If anything, this is your workplace.”

“I know. Just wanted to make sure anyway since I don’t want it to be too loud for you,” Aventurine said before he trailed off a bit. “Now that I think about it, this is the first time you’ve actually seen me work since you usually just pick me up.”

“Is it bothering you?”

“No, no really. Just…a little performance anxiety.”

“You’re doing fine though.”

“Really? How many points?”

“I don’t know your line of work enough to grade you. But, your focus was good, so 5 points.”

“Good enough,” Aventurine made a cheeky look at Ratio’s small assurance before he went back to work. “How’s your hangover? Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine. It was only a headache and dehydration for the most part. What about you?”

“Had no hangover, so I’m completely normal,” Aventurine said casually. “By the way, I didn’t know you like hugging things in your sleep.”

“What?”

The leaves and thorns tumbled onto the table when Ratio and Aventurine both shared a mutual stunned expression.

“What?” Aventurine parroted, startled and confused at why Ratio was staring at him like he just kicked a cat. “You—you don’t?”

“No…” Ratio squinted. “I haven’t, I don’t think…”

The last thing Ratio had remembered clearly was the long conversations at the park with the river before they decided to go home.

They sat in the train talking some more.

Then, there was the kitchen where they talked some more. But, Ratio hardly remembered the details except for something about the Hanahaki Disease.

After that, he went to his room, grabbed his blanket, and dragged it out to the living room and to the couch where Aventurine was laying at—

“Did I do something to you?” Ratio asked, his voice suddenly tense with concern.

Aventurine was still puzzled by the agitated reaction until it finally clicked.

An opportunity arose, and unfortunately, Aventurine wanted to be an asshole.

With a grin, he smugly waved a rose at Ratio.

“Y’know, you were clinging onto me real tight last night while you were sleeping—like this,” Aventurine wrapped his arms around himself and the rose tightly, dramatically rocking his body to the side.

Ratio’s expression became so mortified that Aventurine had to lift his head up for a second to stifle his cackle.

“And then, you know what else you did? You started to sleep talk,” Aventurine released the flower from his hug to wave it at Ratio’s direction. “You wanna know what you said? There was a specific professor on campus that you wanted to beat up so bad because of how terrible they were at teaching quantum physics—”

“Aventurine,” Ratio interrupted, the mortified expression faltering a bit once he caught on. “I’m being serious. What did I do?”

Aventurine let out an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders deflating when Ratio narrowed his eyes skeptically at him. He leaned back against his chair and went back to stripping off leaves and thorns.

“The sleep talking wasn’t real,” Aventurine admitted. “But, the hugging was. You were just hugging me to sleep. That’s it really. But honestly, I never expected a guy like you to do that.”

It was a casual remark, but when Aventurine placed the rose aside, he noticed Ratio leaning his face into one hand, looking utterly appalled.

That’s a new reaction.

“I apologize for that. Sincerely,” Genuine regret leaked into Ratio’s voice. “I shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that, even if I was intoxicated. I’ll make sure to be more mindful and considerate, but please—tell me next time if I cross any boundaries.”

Aventurine had never expected this.

In fact, he was so taken aback by the apology that he became dazed, a flush creeping up his face.

“Hey, hey. You’re fine. Don’t—you don’t have to apologize,” Aventurine stammered, quickly waving his hand. “It wasn’t bad or anything—I just thought it was funny. There’s nothing with, uh, hugging…I mean—I hug my pillows sometimes too. I mean—you’re fine, you don’t cross anything anyways. Besides, it…”

It was nice.

Unfortunately, his words became garbled rubbish that he had to shut his mouth in exasperation. Aventurine grabbed a rose, clamping down on the stem as an attempt to fixate his thoughts on something else before he made shit weirder.

But, in a careless rush, his movement faltered, and when he pulled the rose stripper down, his arm jolted sharply.

There was an urgent clatter on the table that forcibly grabbed Ratio’s attention to see Aventurine had dropped the tool and fished a bandage out of his pocket.

“Sorry, sorry,” Aventurine apologized sheepishly, biting down a grimace. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“You’re not going to disinfect it?”

“I don’t need to.”

Aventurine tore open the bandage wrapper with his teeth. But before he could cover up the cut on his palm, Ratio swiftly rounded the table and grabbed Aventurine’s wrist firmly, holding him in place.

“Hold on. Don’t do anything.”

“But—”

“Don’t,” Ratio insisted firmly.

Aventurine’s pulse quickened at the demand, and he swallowed hard when he felt his heart rising in his throat.

Ratio’s touch burned his skin—settling the scale right back to feeling like Aventurine was sticking his hand in a fire. But, it still wasn’t unpleasant enough for him to recoil since Ratio’s movements were careful and deliberate when he observed the bleeding wound on Aventurine’s palm.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

Aventurine hesitated before he pointed towards the lockers at the back of the room. “Over there in my locker. It has my name on it.”

Ratio pulled his hand away and followed Aventurine’s finger before nodding. “Go to the restroom and wash off the blood. I’ll get the kit.”

There was no room for arguments as Ratio had already gotten up and headed for the lockers. Aventurine reluctantly stood up as well, deciding to comply with the instructions.

He moved to the restroom, heading towards the sink and turning on the faucet.

For some reason, Aventurine braced himself like he was about to get a flu shot and dipped his hand under the running water.

But instead of a sharp sting, there was only a cool stream of numbness.

That was embarrassing, he thought as he grazed his eyes at the long, deep cut that ran through his palm.

This wasn’t the first time that he had hurt himself in the middle of the job—especially with the amount of bandages and first-aid kits he ran through ever since he got hired last year.

Naturally, making occasional mistakes on the job was a very normal thing to do.

Yet, for some reason, this felt more embarrassing than when he accidentally dropped a bunch of flowers in front of customers while he was stocking up the shelves.

A knock on the door made him turn to see Ratio standing at the door Aventurine had left open.

“Did you wash off all the blood?” Ratio asked as he approached Aventurine, who turned off the faucet.

“Yeah,” Aventurine said, watching Ratio rip open an antibiotic ointment.

“Hand,” Ratio instructed.

Reluctantly, Aventurine extended his hand, and Ratio gently wrapped his hand around Aventurine’s to keep it steady.

This was the one that Aventurine should’ve braced himself for.

As soon as the ointment touched his cut, he grimaced and nearly jerked his arm back to the point Ratio had to tighten his grip before Aventurine yanked his hand away.

“Just a little bit more,” Ratio attempted to reassure as he felt Aventurine fidget around uncomfortably. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Only a little,” Aventurine mumbled. Ratio paused to let him recover before he continued to apply the ointment on Aventurine’s wound. “Isn’t washing it just enough?”

“Even a small cut can easily get infected and lead to serious complications if you don’t properly treat it,” Ratio stated as he started rubbing the ointment carefully. “Which means you should take better care of yourself.”

Aventurine huffed, leaning against the restroom wall—feeling the stark contrast of the cold tiled walls against the burning sensation from Ratio’s hand holding his own. “I’m alive now, so I’m doing something right.”

“Don’t rely on luck when it comes to your health,” Ratio chided. “Give me the bandage.”

Aventurine rummaged through his pocket with his free hand until he retrieved the previously opened bandage and handed it to Ratio. He watched as Ratio moved his hand aside to tear the rest of the wrapper.

“Hey, Ratio.”

“What is it?”

“About your research,” Aventurine began, holding still while Ratio started to apply the bandage. “You said you were having trouble with it, right?”

“I did, yes.”

Aventurine turned to look at the mirror, his vision gradually unfocusing. “Is it alright if I can ask you about it? Only if you want to share though—It seemed like it was on your mind yesterday.”

Ratio pressed his lips together, smoothing out the bandage on Aventurine’s palm. Then, he swept his eyes to the other bandage that wrapped around Aventurine’s ring finger.

“The farthest we’ve gotten is growing a bud, but it withered in less than a few days. We can’t progress farther than that at the moment.”

“How come?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We should have been able to bloom the flower and then proliferate it by now, but I haven’t figured out the right conditions yet.”

“You went to a conference about it, right?” Aventurine asked. “Did you get any information?”

He saw Ratio’s eyelids grow heavier—a sign of heavy disappointment.

“Everyone’s stuck at the same phase, which was incredibly frustrating,” Ratio muttered. “It doesn’t help that the most brilliant minds in that room are also single-minded and deeply uninterested in issues like these. As much of a genius Herta is, she’s nearly bored to the point of calling out.”

“Must be a fun experience.”

“Hardly.”

Aventurine laughed a bit, tilting his head as he felt Ratio’s thumb brush against the uncovered part of his palm. He curled his fingers around Ratio’s thumb absentmindedly.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out,” Aventurine said as an attempt to provide Ratio some solace. “And even if you can’t, you don’t need to beat yourself up over it. Right?”

Ratio scoffed, but a wave of relief washed through him as the purple-blue eyes smiled along with Aventurine’s lips. “Of course,” Ratio said.

He was about to reach out to touch Aventurine’s head, but another knock on the door interrupted the thought.

“What are you kids doing?”

Both of them snapped over as Jade appeared at the door, her expression showing a hint of curiosity at the scene.

Aventurine broke first, “Jade—”

“I didn’t realize how close you two were,” Jade remarked, eyeing at the two with an ambiguous smile. “And hello, Ratio. I apologize for the mess around here.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ratio gestured at Aventurine’s hand. “Aventurine cut himself earlier, so we’re just taking care of it.”

Jade had let out a thoughtful noise before she glanced at Aventurine. “Have you been working during your break again?”

Aventurine nervously motioned a hand toward his roommate, “No, no, of course not. I was just talking with Ratio and…y’know, accidentally…yeah.”

Jade flicked over to Ratio with a soft sigh, “I’ll tell you a little secret, Ratio,” She crossed her arms. “This rowdy child here is quite notorious for working through his breaks and skipping lunches, no matter how many times I tell him not to. So, I’d appreciate your help if you…discourage him to work more than he needs to.”

Ratio’s eyes widened, and he shot a pointed look at Aventurine, who gaped in response before he scoffed and unfortunately kept his guilty mouth shut. Of course, Aventurine couldn’t argue against the woman because she was his boss (she was more like an overbearing mother if anything).

Jade took his defeated silence as an answer and gave a satisfied knock on the door. “Thank you. Now, enjoy your time you two. And Aventurine, make sure you clean the buckets before you clock out today.”

“I will,” Aventurine answered, clicking his tongue as Jade walked away. “Old woman,” He cursed as soon she was out of earshot, before wincing when Ratio flicked him on the forehead.

“Are you kidding me?” Ratio asked, incredulous. “Why are you even working during your breaks? And why aren’t you eating lunch?”

Aventurine pressed his lips tightly as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall—deciding that a random tile on the wall was interesting enough to study right now.

“I just…” Aventurine swayed his head slowly. “Forget about it sometimes.”

“So, what were you going to do if I didn’t come over today?”

There wasn’t a verbal answer—only a careless smile and a guilty shrug. Ratio frowned, clearly unamused by Aventurine’s expression.

“As soon as we leave the restroom, you’re going to eat your food and you’re not going to touch the flowers until you’re done. Got it?”

“I’ll eat, but I only have, like, a few more flowers left. It’ll take me 5—“

“You can do that after your break.”

“It’ll take me 5 minutes.”

Ratio grabbed Aventurine’s wrist, forcing Aventurine to stay put right as he shifted his body to leave the restroom. Aventurine shot a stubborn look while Ratio gave him an adamant one.

Aventurine opened his mouth to protest, but his lips paused mid-way through as if something crossed his mind. He glanced down once at the hand wrapped around his wrist before he looked back at Ratio.

“Say the magic word.”

“The what?”

Aventurine’s lips spread widely.

“Magic. Word.”

Ratio still held a puzzled look, so Aventurine mouthed it out slowly. It took a second for Ratio to process the word, and then another second to what Aventurine was referencing to—

“Go eat!”

An abashed yell, followed by a burst of uncontrollable laughter.

8.

A few days had drifted by where the winds got stronger and the weather got colder, giving the world a kiss of autumn.

It had also been a few days when Ratio eventually returned to campus and stepped foot into his lab. He peeled off his scarf and removed his coat when he arrived his workstation, greeted by a slightly wilted bouquet of roses on his desk.

“Asta,” Ratio called, prompting the lab assistant to hurry over. “What’s this?”

“While you were gone, someone was asking to give that to you. She insisted on seeing you, but you were out,” Asta explained, pulling out a card from beneath the bouquet. “She left this for you too.”

Ratio took the card and skimmed it quickly: similar handwriting with a phone number scrawled across it, just like the last card.

It’s the same person again.

He shut the card closed when a puppet crept up behind them, visibly curious.

“Oh—h? Is that from your boyfriend?” Herta asked blankly as she peered over at Ratio’s desk. “Wow, that’s ugly.”

The first part rendered Asta into shock, while Ratio shot Herta a sharp look.

“What?”

Herta just shrugged.

“The woman with the trotter pet and I noticed you and that blonde guy were absent for a couple of days. Must’ve been really busy, huh?”

Ratio opted to ignore the puppet’s existence, handing the card to Asta. “Can you call this number and tell them to stop sending flowers over?”

Asta blinked, still processing the information (gossip) she had just gathered, took the card cautiously. “Um—”

“This isn’t from anyone I know,” Ratio clarified. “I’ll send some money over for you and Arlan to eat out wherever in exchange.”

Herta piped up again, “Hey, what about—”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

Asta stifled her amusement at the tension before nodding—clearly satisfied by the bargain Ratio had struck with her. “Of course, leave it to me. Should I throw away the flowers too?”

Ratio continued to ignore the annoying protests from the puppet demanding for free food, drifting his attention back to the roses—wilted with the red shades becoming duller than the color of blood.

The only thing that stuck out was the signature wrapping paper and ribbon that he had remembered seeing from the local florist shop.

— A RECOLLECTION OF THINGS —

Thorns and bandages.

“I’ll take care of it.”

…

— THE FIRST LOG FOR THE AMNESIAC —

I have the Hanahaki Disease for a couple of weeks now. Not sure if I’ll forget this part.

Apparently, I’m in love with someone. Unrequited love too. I don’t know who, but I think I should remember why I’m writing this.

Got a headache, stomach ache, chest pains that feel like a heart attack sometimes, and an itchy throat.

Started coughing rose petals after a couple of days I think. At first, there was only a little, but I have been coughing a lot more recently.

When I figure out who I’m in love with, I’ll start writing it down.

Don’t make things weird.

Thank god class was canceled, was the first thought that crossed his mind when he scrunched his face from a dull throb that banged against his skull like a gong.

Aventurine groaned loudly, dropping the pen on his desk before his head followed, thudding onto the notebook. He barely had a second to relish (suffer) with his mental companion, that is the pain, before he yanked up the collar of his shirt to his mouth.

A muffled cough escaped, and rose petals slipped out of his mouth, falling down his shirt and onto the floor. He thought he was finished with one cough, until he coughed again.

And again.

And again—until only he was left with a strained heave and a mess on the ground.

Once he gave himself a break to recover, he pulled off his chair and (dropped lazily) kneeled on the ground to sweep up the petals.

A part of him had settled back to dwelling on the question again:

Would it be worth telling Ratio about this?

If he did tell Ratio, maybe he’d feel a little less stressed out just by talking to someone about it. Even saying something like, “Hey, so I happened to have this thing where I’m coughing up actual flowers, haha! Kind of crazy, right?” might make the whole thing a tiny bit more tolerable to cope with.

But, dumping that on Ratio just meant making things more weird and awkward. Understandably, it might freak Ratio out—probably like how any normal person would.

Or, what if Ratio…didn’t freak out? What if Ratio listened calmly to him, and maybe offered rational suggestions to deal with it?

Aventurine stared down at the petals he had scooped into his hands—the vibrant shades mocking him quietly.

If he did say something, there was no doubt Ratio would drag him straight to the ER, strap him to the hospital bed, and make sure he obliged every doctor’s order. Maybe Ratio’d even push him to get surgery if things turned for the worse.

Otherwise, there was that possibility Ratio would probably try and find the cure himself without surgery. In a way, Aventurine might help contribute to Ratio’s research by being a personal test subject.

— THEN WHAT IF RATIO ASKED: —

“Who are you in love with?”

→

“...”

(i don’t know)

A jolt sent his body forward, a violent cough convulsing his body as Aventurine pressed his hands to his mouth.

But, the swarm of flowers burst out of his mouth, pushing through his fingers to snow onto the floor.

Tears stung his eyes with every dry, wrenching cough he forced out—each one worse than the last until it felt like he might start to hack up his insides and—

God, it hurt so bad.

Aventurine gasped sharply, his breaths ragged, as he stretched his arm over his desk and fumbled blindly for his water bottle.

At once, the water had graced his mouth with the sweet, sweet taste of relief—blessing his scratchy throat with each desperate swallow he took.

A broken gasp tumbled out of his mouth as he drained the last drop, slumping forward weakly to wipe his mouth.

This was so…annoying.

This was annoying and irritating that Aventurine squeezed the empty bottle in his hand, clenched his jaws, and vigorously rubbed his eyes with his sleeve until he was practically scratching at his skin—

A phone buzzed.

The vibrations prodded him out of his stupor.

Aventurine blinked owlishly, and he fumbled for his phone on the desk, his fingers blindly groping across the surface until he managed to grab it.

Clearing his throat hastily, Aventurine pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Aventurine,” Ratio’s voice crackled through—initially nonchalant, until there was a low rumble of concern. “Are you okay? Your voice sounds hoarse.”

“Yeah,” Aventurine cleared his throat louder. “Yeah, sorry. I was choking on water. Anyways, whats up?”

“I…was going to ask you if you have a preference for food today,” Ratio said, but the deadpan tone still suggested he was skeptical by Aventurine’s answer.

“Nope, not really,” Aventurine quickly replied before Ratio could voice anything about it. He started to sweep up the mess with a hand. “Why?”

“There is a restaurant that recently opened up and serves Xianzhou cuisine there. The menu looked like there might be something that’ll interest you.”

“Oh,” Aventurine, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, grabbed a handful of petals and tossed it into the trash. “Did you try it out before?”

“No, my peers told me about it.”

“Then since you’re mentioning it, that means we have to try it out, right?”

“Would you like to go today after your shift?”

Aventurine blinked, scooping up the last handful to throw away. “I’m fine with that. But, don’t you have homework to do?”

“I still have time afterwards.”

“Someone sounds excited.”

“I’m not. I’m just curious about the cuisine.”

“Yeah, yeah. I bet you’re jumping for joy,” Aventurine teased as Ratio gave an unamused noise in response. “Anyway, what are you doing right now?”

“I’m waiting for lecture to start, but the professor is running late.”

“Lecture? Are you calling from the lecture hall?”

“No, I’m outside.”

“Why don’t you go back inside and wait?”

“What about you? What have you been doing?”

Aventurine squinted at Ratio’s attempt to sidestep the question before he chuckled in amusement. “I’ve been doing my homework and cleaning my room.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhm. By the way, I think some of my clothes got mixed with yours when we did laundry last night.”

“Right. I had forgotten to tell you this morning, but I left your clothes on top of my bed. You can pick it up whenever you want.”

“Thanks. Also—uh…”

“Yes, you can borrow the shampoo and the conditioner. I noticed you ran out last night, and I know you usually shower before work.”

“Thanks, again,” Aventurine replied sheepishly. “I was planning to wait until after work, but my hair’s a bit sticky now.”

“I figured,” Ratio said before he paused. “I have to go now, Aventurine. The professor arrived.”

“Have fun, Scholar God.”

“Scholar wha—”

Click.

Aventurine stifled a grin as he placed the phone on the ground, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the trash can in front of him—rose petals and other trash filling it to the brim.

“Calling me before a lecture…” What a funny guy.

Aventurine pulled out the trash bag to tie it before he slowly stood up, taking the trash bag with him, and made his way out of his room.

A warm light of the afternoon filled the apartment—streaks of golden coloring the walls and floor while the sounds of the outside world were muffled through the walls.

Yawning, Aventurine set the bag beside his door and lazily walked down to Ratio’s room, opening it with a soft creak.

Ratio’s room was as clean and tidy as he remembered—a trait that has not changed for as long as Aventurine had lived with him. White and minimalistic, which he suppose made it easier to study and focus on work since there wasn’t any distractions going on.

Though, Ratio has probably visited Aventurine’s room more often than Aventurine has with Ratio (though, he’d chalk it up to the fact that they’re always either outside the apartment or hanging out in the living room).

Aventurine instantly found his clothes, which were neatly folded on the bed and sitting there, politely waiting.

Oh, wow.

A smile of appreciation surfaced as he gathered his clothes before his gaze wandered lazily around Ratio’s room. Instead of leaving, he moved through the space intently—swaying the calm within the room as he approached Ratio’s desk.

Clean and minimalistic was what Aventurine would describe Ratio’s bedroom. But his desk?

It wasn’t exactly maximalist or dirty, but it was definitely messy. There were mathematical equations scrawled on sheets, books on quantum physics, engineering concepts, and botanical textbooks stacked high up, and sticky notes peppering all over the desk like an interesting scrapbook collage.

This, funny enough, was also a trait that hadn’t changed for as long as Aventurine had lived with Ratio.

“Jeez,” Aventurine smiled in disbelief, setting his clothes on the chair. He grabbed a nearby pencil and a blank sticky note, scribbling an obnoxious looking smiley face and a couple of stick figures before he scanned for the perfect spot to mark his legacy.

Eventually, his eyes landed on a tall stack of papers at the edge of the desk.

The formatting looks familiar.

— HIS CURIOSITY GOT THE BEST OF HIM —

1st patient:

[REDACTED] ceased visiting after the first month of the patient’s admittance. The patience died from asphyxiation within two months.

2nd patient:

The patient is suffering from feverish symptoms, depressive episodes, and difficulty in breathing. They are expected to have 2 weeks left to live. No visitor or person of interest has been recorded during their stay.

3rd patient:

The patient underwent surgery and is successfully recovering. However, they retain no memory of a visitor that frequently visited them.

4th patient:

The patient’s conditions were stable for three months until the latest visit from [REDACTED]. Their health has declined rapidly since then. The patient died five days later.

…

“Aventurine! Can you do me a huge favor?”

A basket brimming with snacks and chocolate dropped onto the register counter, startling Aventurine before he glanced at Topaz, who stood across from him with an imploring look.

“There’s an event for my organization later next weekend, so I wanted to ask you if it was still possible to order flowers!” Topaz pleaded as she clapped her hands together and bowed her head low.

“Yeah…” Aventurine drawled, eyeing the snack basket. “We handle events all the time, even if you need hundreds of them. So, you don’t need to…bribe me with this. Unless you’re broke…?”

“No, no, I’m not broke. My organization will cover everything anyway. It’s just—” She kneeled down, disappearing behind the counter for a moment, only to reemerge with a trotter wearing a bow tie in her hands. “I also really wanted to ask if you could babysit Numby for that weekend since I’ll be out of town. I can pay you whatever you want, even by the hour!”

“Woah, woah. Chill, Topaz,” Aventurine waved a hand dismissively before he gave the trotter a gentle pat on the head. “I’ll take care of him, so don’t worry about it. I’ll take the food, but you don’t need to pay me. Right, Numby?”

Numby squealed excitedly, wiggling its little arms. Topaz dropped her shoulders and the panic, beaming with relief. “Oh god, thank you so much. I seriously owe you big time.”

“Nah, you’re fine. It’s the least I can do,” Aventurine said, grabbing a tablet from behind the counter and sliding it in front of Topaz. “Now, fill all this stuff out, and we can talk the logistics after.”

“Sounds good.”

Aventurine pulled Numby from Topaz’s hands and lifted the trotter high in the air while Topaz began to type. “Aww, look at you! I missed you, little guy. Did you miss me?”

Numby squealed, wiggling its little happy feet and arms as Aventurine pulled him into a hug, nuzzling his face against its head. “You’re such a good boy, aren’t you? Aren’t you the most adorable trotter in the universe?”

Numby was probably one of the highlights when he used to crash at Topaz’s place for a while. Whenever Aventurine would sleep on the couch, he’d wake up to Numby sleeping on top of his face or making biscuits on his blanket.

There were also those insomniac nights where Numby would curl up on his stomach while Aventurine would doom scroll on his phone and absentmindedly pet the sleeping trotter.

Besides moments like when Numby headbutted him after feeding it catnip or when it was saying something about black holes and astrophysical equations in its sleep (the sounds it made were so outlandish that Aventurine was freaking out in the middle of the night), Aventurine did kind of miss having the creature’s company when he was in his lonesome.

Numby pushed its paws against his cheeks, nudging a laugh out of him before Aventurine cradled it comfortably in his arms. “By the way, Topaz, have you heard about the new restaurant that just opened?”

“The Xianzhou one?” Topaz asked, focused on the tablet. “Yeah, I went there with a few friends, and it was pretty good. Why, were you thinking of going?”

“Ratio and I are going to eat there for dinner tonight, so I wanted to ask what you’d recommend.”

“You and who?”

Aventurine squinted, puzzled. “Ratio…”

Topaz’s typing halted, and she stared at him in disbelief. “No way,” Here we go. “First, you two mysteriously disappeared from a couple of lectures, and now you’re going out to dinner?”

“What are you talking about? We live together, so obviously, we’re going to eat together. Plus, Ratio was the one who suggested it.”

“Ratio invited you out to eat?”

“Yes? Besides, we were absent the first time because we got hungover, and the second time was because we were catching up on homework.”

Topaz nearly slammed her hand on the counter in excitement, thrilled by whatever Aventurine had said—whatever it is, he didn’t know. “You two were drinking on a weekday?”

“Yes, and—”

“And you guys got drunk?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you two do something after? I’m talking like something—y’know…”

Let me finish, asshole, Aventurine groaned in exasperation.

Aventurine swiveled his head around like he was seeing if there was an eavesdropper. Then, he leaned in, lowering his voice. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but promise you won’t say anything.”

Topaz, the nosy asshole she was, nodded eagerly and leaned in as well. “I promise.”

“Then I need a favor.”

“What, what?”

Aventurine raised a finger in the air, slowly making Topaz follow it until he was pointing at the tablet.

“Can you finish filling this out?”

Topaz blinked.

Once she caught on, she narrowed her eyes—her face scrunching up, unamused, but resumed typing regardless, earning a smug hum from Aventurine as he nuzzled Numby’s head.

“But, just letting you know,” Aventurine added. “Nothing else happened. We just went to sleep after.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Topaz sighed before she made a reassured smile. “Well, whatever, as long as you’re having fun. Are things better now that you’re living with Ratio?”

“Yeah,” Aventurine replied. “I have my own room, no trotter sleeping on my face in the middle of the night, and I’m not sleeping on a couch anymore.”

“What about living with Ratio? How’s that been?”

He’s a good friend—

Something scratched the inside of his lungs, nearly catching Aventurine off-guard by the sudden pain.

Woah, careful.

“He’s a good roommate,” Aventurine answered with a slight smile. “And a good friend. It’s been fun.”

“Are you going to live with him again next year?”

Am I going to live with him again next year?

Aventurine paused to drift his gaze at the trotter that fell asleep in his arms, twitching one of its arms as it dreamed about black holes or whatever else.

“Yeah.”

Hopefully.

(“By the way, can I give Numby catnips?”

“No.”)

…

The break room was cold.

Too cold that Aventurine shivered in his sweater and coughed into a tissue that he held with one hand. Meanwhile, his other hand had set aside the now-clean bucket on the table when a door opened.

Aventurine hastily balled up the petals in the tissue right as Robin came into view with a yawn and a stretch.

“Hey, Robin,” Aventurine greeted, shoving the tissue into his pocket. “How’s it going out there?”

“It’s good. Easy going so far,” Robin said, dusting off the dirt from her apron. “Someone named Bronya told me to tell you she said hi.”

“Oh, she’s a regular. Did she come get something for her mom?”

“She did! She wanted a vase full of First Snows.”

“Ah, yep. That’s her mom’s favorite flower since she used to live on a snow planet. Once Jade learned that the first time, she went out of her way to stock up on flowers from there.”

“I see! Miss Jade is such a lovely person for thinking of such things.”

Nope, she just knows how to make money.

But, unfortunately, Robin had a good opinion of that woman.

Aventurine laughed nervously. “Yeah, right?” He said as Robin fished out a buzzing phone from her pocket. Immediately, he noticed Robin’s face lit up brightly before it faltered into a nervous look.

“Don’t worry about it,” Aventurine spoke up. “I can take over while you do that.”

Robin looked at him, conflicted. “Won’t you be getting off soon?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Tell her I said hi though.”

Robin smiled and bowed her head deeply in appreciation while Aventurine exchanged a grin and waved her off, slipping out of the door and into the main area of the shop.

As usual, the afternoon light fell on the peaceful shop, dancing with the garden that decorated the place. The golden light dawned on his phone as he glanced down to check the time.

An hour left until Argenti would come to pick up his order.

Frankly speaking, he was a tad nervous about Argenti coming over since he wasn’t sure if he did a good job with the bouquet.

He had done bigger, crazier arrangements before, so realistically speaking, this was technically one of the easiest he has done.

But, the roses looked so awfully weird to him no matter what he did or how many roses he tried to replace with fresher ones. He tried asking Robin and Jade for feedback, but the only thing they’ve said was that it was perfectly fine.

He had also sent pictures of it to Argenti to get feedback directly from the customer, but Argenti’s…poetic comments were also…just as helpful.

Now, the only thing he could do was hope and pray Argenti liked it enough in person to be satisfied with his order.

(Aventurine wouldn’t mind fixing it up if Argenti requested it, but it was nice to get things right the first time.)

Aventurine fished out the tissue from his pocket to cough into it again, feeling the rose petals fall out of his mouth while his other hand busied itself with adjusting some flowers in their shelves.

— NOW WAS THE TIME TO BEG THE QUESTION: —

Who was he in love with?

Topaz: A sister.

Robin: A coworker.

Jade: Out of the question.

Stelle, March, Dan Heng: Friends.

Herta: Barely met once.

Ra—

A bell jingled hurriedly, forcing Aventurine to quickly shove the tissue into his pocket before he displayed a welcoming smile at the customer who just entered.

“Hello, welcome,” Aventurine greeted and—oh, it’s the phone number woman again.

“Hello,” The woman nodded back, just as timid as he remembered her the first—or second time. As he figured, he watched the woman walk over to the shelves with the roses, pulling one out of the batch.

Aventurine hastily shuffled his way to the counter, expecting her to grab a card again.

Expectations subverted—the woman walked straight for the counter.

“Welcome back,” Aventurine said in a light tone, hoping the familiarity would help ease up this incredibly tensed-up customer right now. “Roses for you again today?”

The woman slowly nodded and stared down at the counter, an agitated expression marking her face.

Did something happen to her? Aventurine wondered mildly as he began to ring up her purchase.

“This is the price for the roses.”

But, the woman didn’t pull out her wallet immediately. “I wanted to ask, um,,” The customer mumbled. “Do you do deliveries?”

Was that why she looked awkward?

“Of course,” Aventurine nodded. “We deliver to anyone that you request. Would you like me to deliver your flowers to someone?”

Must be a satisfactory answer based on how the customer’s face lit up. Yes, please.”

“Sure, I’ll add the service fee to your transaction.”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Aventurine hummed casually, “May I ask if this is the same person you bought the roses for last time?”

“It is,” The woman answered as she fumbled anxiously for her credit card. “But, when I went over to visit him, I was told that he was gone for the day. Then a—a woman called me after to tell me to stop bringing him flowers.”

Aventurine paused his movement, trying to retain a nonchalant look.

But—

Oh, god.

Was it one of those situations?

The woman didn’t notice Aventurine’s brief lull. Instead, she looked more determined and shot her eyes at him. “But, I remember seeing you that day with him, and I’ve seen you around him as well!”

Aventurine darted his eyes at the woman.

“I’m sorry?”

The woman still didn’t seem to notice his growing confusion as she leaned forward with a desperate expression.

“I think the woman has been throwing the roses away, which means he didn’t get them yet!” The woman vented, her desperate voice growing more intense. Aventurine had to resist inching away reflexively. “But, you know him personally, so I think you would be able to deliver it to him!”

I know him personally?

Aventurine stared at the roses that were suffocating in the woman’s embrace.

“Um—I’m sorry, who is this person?”

The woman opened her mouth excitedly.

But, nothing came out.

It was like his head got dunked into the river—the pressure of the water weighing on his ears so heavily that he couldn’t hear anything properly, on his chest that he would choke if he tried to breath, and on his body to the point it became a huge conscious effort to stand straight.

The only thing he could make out was the shape of each syllable from her lips.

Ah.

Was he about to have a heart attack?

No, can’t be.

The woman was still talking, rambling on and on about whoever she wanted to deliver the roses to—

Right. He was still at work.

There was a customer who he had to attend to, and an order he had to fulfill. Yeah, he was an employee with a job to do.

Aventurine forced a swallow, and he splayed his hands to wipe them on his pants.

Just an employee.

He’s just an employee.

He opened his mouth to say something.

Then, the woman stopped talking, her jaws gone slack in disbelief. “What?” She sputtered. “You just said that you do deliveries!”

He does.

What is he saying?

The words were leaving his mouth before his head could keep up. The only thing he could catch was “I’m sorry.”

— WHAT IS IN THE PIT OF HIS STOMACH? —

It feels really

really

disgusting

His vision snapped sharply to the ground below him—something stinging his cheek.

What?

Something clattered angrily.

“Why can’t you? Isn’t it your job to deliver flowers? Huh?” The woman nearly screamed, smacking her hand on the counter. “You and that woman—! Are you in this with her too?”

The screaming became nothing more than broken, disfigured noises.

Did I just lie to a customer?

“Aventurine! Ma’am, you cannot—!”

Stop thinking about it.

“You need to leave!—“

Stop thinking about it.

“No! This man told me that—“

Move.

Say something.

Say something.

Say—

“Aventurine?”

His blood turned cold.

Where was he again?

What was he doing?

Why was he here?

Aventurine finally lifted his head up to see the red-golden eyes boring into him, wide and full of something he didn’t recognize.

Ratio had opened his mouth, saying something really fast before he snapped at the customer, who was saying something really loud.

Robin was next to them, speaking just as fast.

The woman tried shaking her off, but Ratio’s voice had gotten louder and his expression more distorted before he shoved a plastic bag at the woman.

Aventurine couldn’t read what was happening.

He couldn’t hear or make out the words of the conversation or move his hands and feet or open his mouth to apologize and say something or do something—

— THERE WAS A LOUD, ANGRY SCREAM, THEN AN EARLY SNOW FALL —

Tainted red snow.

Lying there on the ground.

A door slammed, nearly knocking the bell off its perch.

Someone spoke again—a quiet, indistinguishable noise.

But, his eyes were fixated at the mass of red that laid on the ground—shades of bright red mixed with dull, withered ones—a few days old—that spilled out of the plastic bag.

— WHAT A CRIME SCENE THIS WAS —

The perpetrator:

Aventurine

The reason:

Unknown.

→

He really doesn’t know.

→

It’s the truth. He swears.

→

(Never lie under oath.)

“Aventurine, are you okay? There’s a scratch on your cheek—”

A violent sound slapped through his ears, so loud and so clear that it scared him.

Aventurine panted sharply, a sting lingering on his palm while Ratio—eyes widened in shock—halted his hand mid air before it could reach Aventurine.

What is going on with him?

The energy surged through his body, and the words started lurching out of his mouth. “Sorry—I dunno—I didn’t mean to…” Aventurine uttered, broken tiny pieces of confused laughter spilling out of him as Ratio and Robin are (watching?) looking at him worriedly.

Breathe, Aventurine.

Two…three…four.

Aventurine sucked in a breath and exhaled through his mouth before he smiled as calm and apologetic as he could.

“I’m sorry,” Aventurine said, trying to force the corner of his lip to stop quivering. “I think today was an off-day for me, so I messed up pretty bad. Sorry for making you guys handle it.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten slapped for it,” Robin reasoned, a worried frown so etched onto her that he felt guilty for worrying a new coworker. “Should I tell Jade? I can try and find her name on the system and let Jade know that—”

“No,” Aventurine urgently flicked his attention at her, but forced himself to suck in a deep breath again to calm down. “Sorry, it’s fine. I’ll tell her myself. Are you able to do me a favor?”

Robin nodded.

Aventurine continued, “A customer with red hair is going to come by and pick up the 100 roses bouquet. His name is Argenti, and his order will be in the cooler.”

“I can give it to him. But are you sure you don’t want me to tell Jade?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute to clean up the mess.”

As he turned his head around and pulled away from the counter to leave—

“Aventurine.”

Aventurine froze as footsteps drew closer—his eyes etched on the door of the break room in front of him as the steps stopped right behind him.

“I’m fine,” Aventurine answered preemptively.

He didn’t know what Ratio looked like right now, or how Ratio was watching him. He didn’t want to look, as much as he wanted to—because for once, Aventurine wouldn’t know what he might do or what would happen as soon as he caught Ratio’s gaze.

He turned his head just enough for him to keep his eyes at the door while showing an attempt of a smile to Ratio standing behind him.

“Sorry for that. Give me a minute.”

Ratio didn’t say anything, nor called out to him as Aventurine left.

Aventurine was glad that he didn’t.

He pushed through the doors, traveling quickly until he finally shut the restroom door closed.

His body started to convulse.

Aventurine found himself suddenly collapsing onto the cold floor, gasping brokenly as he desperately pulled himself to the toilet and lurched over.

He retched and gagged until something forced itself out of his throat.

Passionate, little red things.

Falling,

     falling,

         falling.

Singing

     and dancing

         and jeering

             and laughing mockingly at him as he vomited—coughing, choking, and gripping tightly on the brim of the toilet while heads of bloomed roses snowed down.

The last one eventually fell into the water, listening to Aventurine’s labored heaves as he coughed out the rest of whatever still lingered in his throat.

The passionate, little red things danced jovially in the water as the liar pushed his palms against his eyes, digging his fingertips into his head as he panted erratically from the feelings that assaulted him all at once.

“Ratio is a friend…

Ratio is a friend…

Ratio is a friend…”

Ratio is a friend…

Ratio is a friend…

Ratio is a friend.

(Ratio is a friend.)

Ratio is a friend.

Chapter Text

hyacinths

9.

The air bit him—sharp, and cold. Freezing even that every exhale came out as nothing but a puff of white fog. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him if it started to snow in the middle of autumn now.

Aventurine stood in an empty plaza, his hands gripping tightly at the metal bars of the railing that overlooked the river below while he tried to make out the faint outline that barely resembled a waterfall, veiling his view as it poured from the gray heavens above.

Can you deliver to…

The bars stung his palms—pricked it like thorns. His knuckles whitened.

There it was again.

That unsettling feeling pervaded through his body, clinging onto him tightly and coiling around his lungs. No matter how many flowers he threw up in that restroom, no matter how many times he told himself to stop thinking about it, Aventurine felt like he was going to throw up again—whatever that was still left in his body until the only thing he could do was wring out nothing but air.

I’m sorry, I can’t do that.

Here was the thing.

There was nothing wrong with admirers—Aventurine knew that. Admiring someone, liking them, it’s all merely a human thing to do, nor was it a crime. Plus, there was no doubt that Ratio attracted many different people to him, romantic, platonic, or otherwise. That woman—the customer who asked for Ratio’s number—was just one of them. The person who wanted Ratio at the conference was one of them. His peers and their mutual friends were one of them.

Aventurine was one of them.

I… Veritas…

…he was the one who lied to me!

It was only by sheer luck that he got to be one of Ratio’s friends.

I only wanted him to—

…Because I like you!

Please, Verit—

— A FACE TWISTED. A DEMAND SILENCED THE SHOP —

DON’T YOU DARE SHOW YOUR FACE TO ME

EVER AGAIN.

Aventurine’s breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You’re fine,” he chanted quietly, his voice trembling as he forced the words out. “You’re fine. You’re fine.”

That was right.

He was fine.

The lump in his throat didn’t exist. The slap didn’t happen. The lying didn’t happen. The vomiting didn’t happen. The disease didn’t exist. The flowers weren’t real. Whatever was sinking inside the pit of his stomach wasn’t real.

Nothing happened in the past hour. In the past weeks. Nothing happened.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

There was a face he had never seen before—it wasn’t disappointment, or disbelief, or annoyance or irritation or—

Anger. But worse. It looked worse. There was no doubt about it.

Ratio was pissed off.

Aventurine had managed to piss Ratio off beyond belief that nothing Aventurine could say or do would salvage anything. Ratio knew what happened, he had to have heard everything. And Aventurine slapped Ratio too, and he left the shop through the back door without seeing Ratio, not even to say a single word about where or an I’m sorry, and—

Why did he lie?

There was a distant shout.

Then, a rush of footsteps that took Aventurine a minute too long to register until it finally came closer.

Suddenly, something fell onto his head.

It was heavy. Warm. Too warm, actually, that it forced his frozen body to lose every single tension in his nerves, nearly startling him out of his stupor. It draped down and almost obscured most of his vision, making Aventurine lift the weight off his head—a coat—to see another body standing beside him.

And…

He had to be hallucinating this because there were several things here: Someone was standing next to him, his face flushed red with sweat trailing down from his forehead. His breathing was incredibly labored, and his usual neat appearance that Aventurine was very familiar with seemed… almost disheveled.

“Ratio?” Aventurine croaked.

Nope.

There was absolutely no way he wasn’t hallucinating this. His roommate, Ratio, who dedicated at least a portion of his morning to working out and jogging, looked like he’d run either two marathons back-to-back or like the apocalypse was coming.

In fact, there was no way Ratio was here in the first place.

Aventurine didn’t say anything to Ratio—not even a text or a call after he left. He had to have gone home, unless the reason why Ratio was looking for him was because Ratio really, truly, was going to admonish him to hell or—

His daze was broken by a heavy, “Was this where you’ve gone to?”

“How’d you—” Aventurine unintentionally rasped, clutching the coat tighter to his chest. “Are you okay? What—what happened to you? Aren’t you supposed to be home?”

“Home?” Ratio echoed breathily. He straightened up, slowly rolling his shoulders back in an attempt to regain his usual composure. “I was going to check up on you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Not to mention, your phone was on Do Not Disturb, so I wasn’t able to get a hold of you.”

Aventurine, stunned, hastily fumbled for his phone and—

Oh. His entire screen was filled with notifications—six text messages and twenty missed calls, all within the past half an hour. And Aventurine didn’t answer to a single one.

Oh. Fuck.

“It’s going to get colder later, so you should wear this—”

Something collapsed to the ground.

Ratio’s eyes widened. Two hands had struck out, gripping tightly against Ratio’s shoulder and almost pushing him away as Aventurine forced Ratio to stay in place—to not get any closer. But, what caught Ratio’s attention was something he had never seen before.

On Aventurine’s face was a significant disturbance. Nearly squinted eyes, lips that were twisted and bitten so hard as the corners quivered madly, and the hands on his shoulders shaking violently that it wasn’t from the cold this time. Ratio didn’t—nor couldn’t—tear his eyes away. Not when Aventurine looked so…

scared.

“Aventurine,” Ratio said, softly. Quietly.

That seemed enough to break Aventurine.

“I…” Aventurine cracked, his voice nearly buckling. “I’m sorry. Earlier, I didn’t mean to—I didn’t make you see any of that, and I—I should’ve said something, I—” Aventurine faltered, gasping nervously for air. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Ratio. I—um—”

There was no doubt in Aventurine’s mind that Ratio was angry. And there were so many things that Aventurine needed to apologize to Ratio for.

For wasting Ratio’s time.

For making him witness such a humiliating scene.

For slapping him, for leaving the shop without saying anything, for lying about him, for being jealous enough to not want to deliver flowers to Ratio because—

The river below them swayed quietly to the rhythm of autumn’s whistles.

Ratio slowly lifted his hands, carefully wrapping them around Aventurine’s shaking ones. Each movement was slow, deliberate—almost hesitant—as if he was asking Aventurine for permission with each action. But, there wasn’t any rejection. Aventurine felt Ratio’s thumb brush against his skin, rubbing back and forth against his palms.

Despite how stark cold it was, Ratio’s body temperature was still warm, and perhaps on a different day, Aventurine would’ve remarked at how impressive that was. Instead, Aventurine squeezed his heavy eyes tightly and lowered his head, hoping to hide his face.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Ratio spoke, giving the base of Aventurine’s palm a gentle squeeze. Aventurine bit harder on his lip, and he pulled one hand away to press the back of his hand against his own face. “Nothing at all.

Aventurine gave a weak scoff, and he shook his head in denial.

“Sorry,” Aventurine mumbled out. “Just—just give me five seconds.

Aventurine felt Ratio rest a hand on top of his head, patting him. For some reason, that made him tense up even more, purely because now, he wasn’t able to hold back the choked, quiet sobs he had been trying to swallow down. God, what a wonderful time for him to be like this—and especially in front of someone else.

“May I see your face?”

There was a brief moment of hesitation, followed by a sharp breath sucked through Aventurine’s teeth. But, he nodded.

With permission, Ratio carefully moved Aventurine’s hand away from his face, slowly revealing an expression painted by reddened eyes, wet cheeks, a face intensely scrunched with barely restrained emotions.

It was different this time.

They weren’t in the comforts of their living room, watching that specific scene from an episode of Aventurine’s favorite show. There were no silent tears, no unmoved expression, no tissues to offer, no distractions. Only an overwhelming effort of attempting to stop the tears from overflowing.

But, it was fine.

Instead of tissues, Ratio lifted his hand and carefully wiped the wet trails from Aventurine’s face. Aventurine didn’t flinch, only remaining still.

Eventually, Aventurine asked, “How’d you find me?”

“Intuition,” Ratio replied, almost nonchalantly. Aventurine blinked skeptically. “You were here when you went for a walk last time.”

This time, Aventurine weakly scoffed. “Funny you say that. I was thinking about going to the store.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t choose to go and buy discounted alcohol.” Ratio crouched to retrieve the fallen coat that had been laying on the ground before he draped it around Aventurine’s shoulders again. “Leave this on.”

“No—no, it’s fine,” Aventurine protested, wringing out a nervous laugh. “It’s yours. You should wear it since it’s gonna get cold—”

“And you’re the one who’s going to freeze to death before we get home,” Ratio countered, his hand resting firmly on Aventurine’s shoulder to prevent Aventurine from thinking about pulling it off. “Keep it on for now. Okay?”

Aventurine pressed his lips together tightly, sniffing up the leftover sobs. “...sorry. You should’ve gone home or something.”

His voice nearly ran cracked and dry that the ambient noise of the river nearly overwhelmed his volume. But, Ratio still managed to catch the words.

“Why would I go home?”

“It’s getting cold. Plus, you probably have stuff to work on. So.”

“Do you want me to go home?”

Aventurine nearly jerked from the question, and he clenched his fists tightly until his nails dug deeply into his palms. His head turned away, avoiding Ratio’s intense gaze. Meanwhile, the river watched.

“Don’t you want to go home?”

“That depends on you.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

This time, Ratio’s words were suspended in the air as a thin mist. Aventurine remained frozen, unable to imagine what Ratio looked like right now. Only that, at this point, Ratio had to be annoyed, at the very least.

However, the admonishment he had been expecting this entire time didn’t come through.

“If you want me to give you some space, I’m willing to do that.” Aventurine heard Ratio say. But, there was something missing from that statement. A word that Ratio hadn’t spoken yet.

So, he couldn’t help but barely whisper, “...but.”

An uncharacteristic hesitation. Then, “I’d prefer to make sure you’re okay. And that you’re safe.”

Aventurine finally tore his eyes away from the river and over to Ratio because for some reason, that caught him off-guard. More so, there was nothing that hinted to what Aventurine had saw back at the shop—whatever anger or frustration that Ratio might’ve had earlier.

There was none of that, which meant Aventurine had to be hallucinating again, or—

“I want to help you,” Ratio said, his voice quiet and steady. “So, if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

Aventurine stared as Ratio’s words slowly settled in. And once it did, Aventurine’s chest felt tighter and any attempts at pulling himself together for the past five minutes all fell in vain. What a funny feeling this was.

Aventurine wrung out a strained laugh as he pushed the back of his hands against his burning eyes. “You don’t have to say all of that, Ratio,” Aventurine cracked, his mouth quivering intensely. Another pathetic attempt at a normal laugh. “That’s even worse than saying are you okay.”

Ratio didn’t respond. Instead, he simply moved closer until he reached out and pulled Aventurine in. Ratio wrapped his arms around, and he gently cradled their bodies together as Aventurine buried his colorful sobs deep against Ratio’s shoulder.

…

— A TEXT CONVERSATION AT 10 PM —

T: Hey!

T: I convinced the committee to let me bring Numby for the weekend, so you don’t need to babysit him anymore. Thank you though!

A: Cool. Did you bribe someone or what?

T: ??

T: I’m an honest and legitimate person. I would never do such a thing.

A: Yeah, yeah. Want the basket back then?

T: Nah, keep it.

T: Share some with your roommate too. If you catch the drift. Wink wink.

A: ????

Aventurine sighed heavily as his phone fell onto his chest with an ungraceful thump, the screen’s dim light flickering off as he shifted to lie on his side. In front of him was the television that prodded at him with a faint blue color, quietly humming the songs of Sun’s Sonata to fill the living room with ambience.

Aventurine’s view was barely clear thanks to the somewhat swollen, puffiness that surrounded his eyes. With the state his eyes were in, it almost threatened Aventurine to keep his eyes shut until he would eventually pass out.

But, Aventurine ignored that and forced himself to stay awake, for whatever reason he didn’t know himself. Meanwhile, there were faint clatters and footsteps walking around in the kitchen for the past ten to thirty minutes or so—Aventurine didn’t know exactly how long Ratio left his bath since time did not spare a minute for him when he was zoning out for almost an hour now.

Aventurine barely registered the creak of a floorboard before he saw a presence standing next to the couch.

“Do you want something to drink?” Ratio asked, yet Aventurine managed to catch the heavy fatigue from his voice.

Aventurine shook his head with a slight frown. “I’m fine, thank you.”

The couch dipped, welcoming a new weight on the edge of the cushion right beside Aventurine. When Aventurine casted his eyes over, he noticed the drops of water hanging on the tip of Ratio’s freshly damped bangs and a towel resting around Ratio’s shoulder.

“You look tired,” Ratio stated. “Do you want a cold compress?”

Aventurine shook his head again. Funny for Ratio to say that when the guy looked wiped out earlier. But, Aventurine decided to keep that comment to himself for now.

He pushed his body to sit up, although with mustered efforts, and adjusted his position in case Ratio wanted to take up his usual spot on the couch. However, Ratio remained.

“How bad does it look?” Aventurine asked.

“Not that terrible,” Ratio said. “Though, you were rubbing your eyes too much earlier.”

“Gee, I wonder why” Aventurine exaggerated a heavy sigh, shooting a pointed look at Ratio. “Someone had to go ahead and trigger the waterworks.”

“If anything, I’d say that it was productive.”

“Productive how?”

“Crying allows release for stress, physical pain, and emotional pain. If you repress it all, then it’ll hurt you more than help. Correct?”

“I mean, sure. But, it’s kind of weird.”

“You say that, but do you feel better?”

Aventurine hesitated. Clearly after crying his entire soul out, he supposed that Ratio wasn’t exactly wrong there. And whatever the psychology might be, he also supposed that it did felt a lot better to have a mental breakdown with someone than alone. But, he wasn’t planning to say that out loud.

Aventurine drew his legs closer to his chest, and he avoided Ratio’s eyes by turning his head away. “It’s still weird though, at least in your case,” Aventurine said. “I think anyone would feel awkward if they had to watch someone cry in front of them.”

The faint laughter from the TV barely registered for him. Despite seeing this episode of Sun’s Sonata a million of times, Aventurine couldn’t focus on it, nor did he feel compelled to do so even though he was the one that turned it on in the first place.

His fingernail absentmindedly scratched at his bare ankle—hoping to scratch away that small insect called anxiety.

Eventually, Ratio sighed.

“Say that instead of you, a friend was put into the same situation as you,” Ratio leaned forward to pull the coffee table drawer open. “What do you think about that?”

The rummaging of the random mess in the drawer caught Aventurine’s attention, making him briefly glance over to see that Ratio was searching for something. With this line of questioning, Aventurine figured Ratio was going to make a point to him.

Regardless, he muttered, “…I’d be worried.”

“Would you feel awkward if they cried in front of you?”

“…No.”

“And why is that?”

There it was.

Aventurine let out a scoff. “Alright. I get it now.” He said, observing what Ratio had finally retrieved from the messy drawer. A familiar rectangular box.

“Good, I hope you do.” Ratio pulled a deck of cards from the box, sliding it on top of his palm before he held it out towards Aventurine. An invitation that took Aventurine a minute to understand.

Aventurine raised a brow and tilted his head. “You don’t usually ask.”

“I know.”

A slight smile.

Aventurine blinked before he eventually shook his head and smiled in disbelief. He took the deck from Ratio’s hand and began to shuffle them as they made their way to sit on the floor, legs crossed and their shoulders comfortably a few inches away.

“What are we playing?” Aventurine asked.

“Anything you want.”

“Blackjack?”

“Sure. You deal.”

“Aw, how nice of you.”

With a practiced motion, Aventurine slid the cards onto the coffee table: Two cards face-up for Ratio, and two for himself—one up and one down. Meanwhile, the deck of cards sat lazily in Aventurine’s grasp.

Ratio glanced at his cards. Six. “Hit.”

A card was passed over. Thirteen. “Hit.”

“There’s something I wanted to ask,” Aventurine slid the card over to Ratio’s side. Sixteen. “I think you brought a bag to the shop earlier. What was in it?”

Ratio tapped on the table twice. “Old flowers.”

From that, Ratio saw Aventurine shift his head slightly, almost as if Aventurine was confused for a moment. But, there wasn’t an immediate reply to that aside from another card that slid over to Ratio.

“Were they from her?”

Ratio’s hand paused on the edge of the cards, unmoving and unsure. Unsure how or what to answer that question with, not because the answer was difficult or anything. Rather, he figured it out quickly when he had to endure listening to the woman plead and blubber out outrageous excuses.

There was no doubt that they both knew the answer uncomfortably well.

Perhaps if he had been there a minute earlier, then…

Ratio only nodded as he counted the cards. Nineteen.

He turned over to Aventurine when he caught the latter absentmindedly pinching the corner of a card from the deck, rubbing the edge between his fingers. Ratio wasn’t sure if he was observing too long or if Aventurine recovered too fast because a loud sigh cut through the brief quietness.

“Well, I guess that’s expected,” Aventurine teased. Except, the smile was too ambigious for Ratio to decipher immediately. “You are a popular guy, after all.” Aventurine gestured toward Ratio’s cards. “You want to hit one more time? Might hit 21.”

Ratio narrowed his eyes at the suggestion. “Go ahead and draw.”

“Fine, fine.”

With a simple hum, Aventurine turned over one of his cards and began drawing from the deck with a casual flick.

Ten. Fifteen. Seventeen.

Ratio cleared his throat.

“By the way, I came to the shop earlier because I wanted to ask you about recycling flowers.”

Aventurine stopped moving his hand. A card hovered in the air.

“Ah…” Aventurine hesitated, the words caught in his throat. Slowly, he placed the card down. Nineteen. Then, Aventurine slid out his last card from the deck, but instead of placing it on the table, he held it in between his fingers. “What did you end up doing with the flowers?”

“I gave them to Robin. She said she’ll consult with Jade as well.”

“You should’ve kept it. That woman likes you, y’know.”

“Why would I accept something from someone who I don’t know and has assaulted a friend close to me?”

Aventurine’s fingers twitched. “I dunno. Maybe you would’ve been friends with them if I didn’t do anything.” Aventurine shrugged, letting out a humorless laugh as he finally placed the card onto the table. Twenty nine.

This time, Ratio’s eyes narrowed intensely. “What are you insinuating here?”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” Aventurine countered, quickly gathering all the cards and dragging into the deck to shuffle before he set the table up again—his movements more hasty than earlier. “I’m just saying that there could’ve been a chance for—I don’t know—both of you guys to get to know each other? Be friends or something.”

“And in what universe makes you think that?” Ratio took the two cards. Six. “It doesn’t matter what could or would happen. They crossed the line.”

“People do that all the time,” Aventurine sighed loudly, sliding the card over for every tap Ratio made on the table. Fourteen. “Mistakes happen, obviously. I’m pretty sure you know that well yourself. But, maybe she deserves some slack. Probably had a bad day.” Eighteen.

“Are you defending her?”

It was the tone that Aventurine was expecting for almost the entire day. That frustrated, heavy voice—not enough to replicate the anger he heard back at the shop, but enough for Aventurine to freeze as he felt his heartbeat thrum intensely inside his neck.

The sinking feeling came back once again, and the cards on the table were starting to blur, unfocused in his vision. Something was telling him that he should stop—that he needed to stop talking. But the words were faster than his rationality.

“I’m just saying,” Aventurine dropped the next card for Ratio. Twenty. “People make mistakes all the time. I’m sure she’s a good person.”

“She’s a good person?” Ratio repeated sharply. “She slapped you, Aventurine. What—why are you so insistent on her?”

Why?

Aventurine clicked his tongue sharply, his hands clenching tightly on the deck of cards—almost threatening to crush it all up. Maybe on some other day, Aventurine could’ve made a joke about how Ratio shouldn’t judge books by the cover and that maybe by some chance, Ratio might end up liking her—or anyone else.

But, his head was too muddled up—and for some reason, something bubbled in his chest. It was that intense feeling once again.

“I don’t fucking know, Ratio,” Aventurine gritted harshly as he twisted his card around. Four. “Maybe because she was gushing about you when I had to ring her up.” Ten, fourteen, seventeen. “Talking about getting closer to you, this and that. And you know what? She told me to deliver those flowers to you personally because she knew that we were friends.”

Aventurine forced out a loud scoff, and Ratio from the peripheral of his vision slowly disappeared.

“But, wow. Who am I to go around lying to customers?” Aventurine’s voice ramped up intensely, and he wasn’t able to control his body as he slammed down the next card. Twenty. “Maybe if I wasn’t fucking stupid, then maybe she wouldn’t have slapped me and then by the time you came in, everyone would get some stupid happy ending.”

The last card harshly slammed against the table. Thirty.

Aventurine didn’t turn to see Ratio’s reaction, nor did he want to stay to hear the reply. He slammed the rest of the deck onto the table and stood up from the ground, tumbling the cards into one ungraceful mess.

“Thanks for the game. I’m going to bed.”

“Aventurine.”

Aventurine didn’t want to stay, nor look. Whatever was going on in his head—it sucked. It fucking sucked. This entire day—he…

But, before he could leave, something grabbed tightly onto his arm. Aventurine froze at the sudden contact, but kept his face forward—hidden away from Ratio’s sight.

“Let go of me, Ratio,” Aventurine said, his voice shaking despite his efforts to keep it calm. “I’m fine.”

But Ratio didn’t. Instead, Ratio held on tighter. “You’re not,” Ratio said, tense and low. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Aventurine pressed his lips together in a thin line, and he forcefully swallow the lump down his throat. There wasn’t anything else. Nothing else that he should say. He had already crossed a line—so, so many lines, so he tried to say anything—everything—to Ratio, then there was no doubt that…

he would never see Ratio again.

Aventurine tugged his arm, but Ratio’s grip was stronger than him. He couldn’t find the words to say anything, not even a plead, as the pressure built up slowly and slowly—all over his throat. His head. Aventurine tugged his arm harder, but Ratio held onto him.

“Aventurine—”

Before Ratio had a chance to say something else, Aventurine suddenly turned his head around and—

Ratio realized Aventurine’s face was red, and tears were welling up intensely. Aventurine’s eyes were shaky, wild almost, and it nearly shocked Ratio.

“Let go.”

Reluctantly, Ratio frowned, and he unraveled his grasp, allowing Aventurine to pull away immediately and disappear down the hallway.

A faint laughter echoed from the television followed by the soundtrack that Ratio recognized was one of Aventurine’s favorite ones from Sun’s Sonata. The music played, but the only thing Ratio heard was the sound of a door shutting itself.

10.

— 7 AM: NEWS OF THE DAY —

A HEARTBROKEN TRAGEDY?!

Earlier this morning, a person was found dead in their bedroom, surrounded by nothing but beautiful yellow roses! Investigators have also found a love letter deep within the flowers, meant for their childhood friend.

Oh, how cruel this disease can be!

…

Ratio frowned as he placed his tablet onto the kitchen counter when the coffee maker greeted him with a ding!

The morning air welcomed the usual bitter aroma of the dark roast, although it didn’t reach Ratio as he absently reached for a mug and tipped the kettle over to pour himself a cup. All part of the routine—or for the most part.

It was quiet. Still, even, that it felt slightly unnerving for him. Of course, there were reasons why. One, last night’s conversation. Two, there was a faint sound of an alarm earlier—an hour ago—that only rang once before it shut off. And three, well…

— THERE WAS ANOTHER DREAM LAST NIGHT —

“Let go of me, Ratio.”

“Let go.”

In the middle of the apartment, he saw Aventurine cry. Then in a blink, the apartment was empty.

An absence.

Gone.

Ratio sighed heavily, and he took a sip of his coffee that nearly burned his tongue. He had thought about taking another sip, but he placed the mug down with a clink and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Perhaps it was a correct fact that Ratio did worry a little too much—a little more than he himself would like to admit. Which, frankly, was a strange thing to come to realize now since he—at least to his knowledge—didn’t bother to involve himself with anyone more than he needed to. Not with anyone in his lab, his classes, his circle of people he knew.

Ratio had irritated people as much as people had angered him, that he knew and nor did he care to seek for reconcilliation for as long as he lived.

But, the way Aventurine’s voice cracked, and the way his face had twisted as tears were falling down—not for release like back at the plaza, but because Ratio had pushed too far.

What was he thinking?

Ratio almost went to pick up the scalding hot mug again until he heard a door creak from the hallway. The quiet turn of a knob followed by light footsteps made him sharply look over at the hallway.

Slowly emerging out of the hallway was his blonde roommate, who looked at Ratio with a flicker, the corner of Aventurine’s lip nearly quivered upwards as an attempt to smile.

But, the air was tense, and so were both of them.

Ratio turned to his tablet, listening to the sounds of Aventurine pulling open the fridge as he blankly scrolled through the news articles listed for the day. The clink of bottles in the fridge echoed loudly, nearly cutting through the uneasiness. Ratio presumed that Aventurine was looking for his bottle of sweet coffee.

The fridge door shut with a muted thud as Ratio turned off his tablet to turn his head around to see Aventurine trying to twist the cap of a glass bottle open.

“...I apologize, Aventurine.” Ratio began, his voice unusually stilted that it felt unfamiliar. He saw the hand on the cap stiffen. “For last night. It wasn’t my place to push you like I did. I was concerned about you, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior and actions. So, for that, I’m sorry.”

Aventurine stood still, the bottle in his hand motionless—processing the words Ratio had said. It was also when Ratio had noticed something. Specifically, how darker Aventurine’s eyebags were, how swollen Aventurine’s eyes were, and the dried trails that lingered on his face.

He tapped his finger on the edge of the cap. “You don’t need to apologize,” Aventurine said softly, exhausted even judging by the hoarse rasp. “I said a lot of things last night, so it was also on me too.”

Ratio watched as Aventurine tried again—twisting the cap open only for it to hardly budge. For some reason, there was a strange tone laced in that statement. Self-depricating, much like the many times he had caught Aventurine sounding like that last night.

Recalling that, Ratio tightened his jaw. “I don’t want to make you feel like that again last night, so if there’s ever a next time, let me know. I’ll try to know better as well, so you aren’t forced into that situation.”

“...It’s fine,” Aventurine said, loosening his grip around the bottle. There was a hint of hesitation before Aventurine turned his head away, avoiding Ratio’s gaze. “I don’t mind it. I just… had a lot in my head. I guess.”

Ratio released an exhale before he extended his hand out, shifting Aventurine’s focus back at him. It took about a moment for Aventurine to process his gesture—a quiet, simple offer. Aventurine hesitated again before he handed the unopened bottle over to Ratio.

Ratio twisted the cap effortlessly with a faint pop before he handed the bottle back to Aventurine, who gave him an owlish blink before Aventurine averted his eyes back at his now-opened drink.

“Thank you,” Aventurine muttered, his voice smaller than before.

Ratio studied him for a moment longer as Aventurine gave his coffee a small sip—and Ratio frowned the longer he observed the details all over Aventurine’s face.

“...You didn’t sleep at all, did you?”

It wasn’t Ratio that asked, but Aventurine. Which, funny enough, was the observation that Ratio concluded to regarding Aventurine’s current state. But, it seemed that he looked confused at the statement when Aventurine gestured at his own eyebags in regards to Ratio’s.

Ratio scoffed slightly, and he turned around to return his attention to his own cup of coffee. “No,” Ratio answered with a low rumble, taking a sip of his drink that grew warmer. “But, you haven’t either.”

“I am an insomniac after all. But you’re usually the guy that meets his sleep goals, so.” Ratio glanced over to see Aventurine standing beside him, placing down the glass bottle on the counter next to his mug and reaching to turn on Ratio’s tablet. “Maybe we both need to take some melatonin tonight.”

Aventurine faintly smiled with a casual shrug before he heaved himself to sit on the empty space of the counter. Ratio sighed as he stood right beside him, peering over at the tablet as Aventurine scrolled through the news feed.

“You should sleep in today,” Ratio suggested. “It’s the weekend after all.”

“I’ll think about it,” Aventurine swiped his finger through the pages of the same article Ratio was reading earlier. “You should take a nap too.”

“I have something to do on campus later.”

“Research?”

“Checking on some things.”

“Busy as always, huh?” Aventurine smiled, a little wider this time.

Ratio’s shoulders slightly sagged before he cleared his throat.

“If you’re not tired, come with me.”

Aventurine blinked at the request, surprised as he shot his eyes over at Ratio, who exchanged him a firm look—to confirm to Aventurine that yes, he was seriously offering. But, that Ratio wasn’t pressuring him or forcing him to go—just a simple invitation.

The tablet slightly tilted forward due to the hands that nearly slacked, and Aventurine’s mouth slightly opened.

“...uh—”

…

Huge.

The entire place was huge.

All around him was full of nothing but floating screens while students and staff in lab coats ran hurried past, juggling clipboards, boxes, and special-looking pieces of equipment and technology. If there was a simpler way to describe the cool, metallic laboratory, Aventurine’d say it felt like being in some futuristic space station.

His steps faltered slightly, and he uttered a frog-like croak as he slowly spun his body around to take in the view. A few passing staff greeted Ratio with curt nods or a quick hello before they flicked their attention to Aventurine—curious and confused at the new visitor.

So this was what it felt like to be a kid on a ‘bring-your-kid-to-work’ day.

“I know you wanted me to come and all, but are you sure I can be in here?” Aventurine harshly whispered out, quickly catching up until he was trailing right behind Ratio.

True to character, Ratio didn’t pay any mind or attention to the curious looks that were thrown at them—after all, Aventurine figured this was probably the second place that Ratio lived in for most of his time in the university. That, or Ratio was just simply unconcerned by the looks.

“You’re fine,” Ratio stated with a tinge of reassurances as he led them to a desk that was tucked in a nice corner of the entire space.

The desk wasn’t surprising—just as meticulously disorganized as the one back home, as Aventurine expected. A bunch of files, papers, pens. Although, what surprised Aventurine was a tiny rubber duck that was perched in the corner—the same duck that Aventurine gave to Ratio as a joke during their first few months living together.

“I won’t take long, so we can go to the cafe right after I finish,” Ratio said, picking up a clipboard. He gestured Aventurine to the vacant chair. “You can sit here.”

Normally, Aventurine would’ve try to be more insistent about Ratio taking the seat instead since this was his work space after all. But, only a couple broken hours of sleep didn’t leave him any room for a counter, so Aventurine quickly took the offer and sank into the chair.

And maybe he was really tired than he thought because this chair a lot more comfortable than he thought. Hence, Aventurine slightly twisted the chair back and forth to try and keep himself awake. While Ratio was studying whatever was on his clipboard, Aventurine’s eyes flicker over to a… thing—that looked like a toy in the shape of an interesting looking… ghost?

“Don’t tell me that the reason you brought me here is so you can do experiments on me” Aventurine said, picking up the toy-like ghost gadget to make a curious inspection.

The jest didn’t land—or it did—when Ratio lowered his clipboard to give Aventurine a flat look of disbelief. “What in the world makes you think that?”

“Isn’t that what the—uh—that one person said? Something about experimenting with my eyeballs?” Aventurine tapped on the black screen before something flickered on—a digital looking face. Funny enough, its deadpanned pixel expression resembled someone he knew.

Aventurine was too immersed in this new thing to register Ratio’s heavy sigh.

“I’m not going to do anything to you.”

Aventurine grinned as he made a show of exaggerating his piqued curiosity over his new discovery in his hands that robotically blinked at him. “Well, if you don’t actually dissect me or anything, then I guess it’s fine if you do it.”

“I’m not going to do anything to you, Aventurine.”

“A common bait-and-switch line in horror movies. Or red-herring.”

“And you should stop referencing horror movies.”

Unamused, Ratio reached over and plucked the ghost-looking robot from Aventurine’s hands—to Aventurine’s disappointment—and extended his hand out towards a direction. The robot let out a whir before it floated up in the air, scanning around the area before it moved towards the direction Ratio had gestured it to.

Aventurine gave a disappointed huff that he couldn’t mess with the robot, but his eyes followed it until it stopped in front of some sort of observation tank. With a flash of curiousity, he stood up and craned his neck to catch a peek of something bright.

An impossibly bright and vibrant yellow.

“What’s that over there?”

Ratio turned briefly, following the direction Aventurine pointed his finger at. “It’s the simulation for the Hanahaki disease,” Ratio stated simply. “You’re free to take a look at it.”

Aventurine was graced with a moment of consideration. He took Ratio’s second offer.

It was the brightest, most vibrant yellow he had ever seen in sunflowers that it almost looked artificial—which Aventurine supposed could either be taken as a compliment or an insult. But, for it to be purely made out of pixels, it was impressively stunning to say the least. The robot that was floating next to him gave a little whir before it phased through the glass, hovering over the flowers and scanning through it. And by comparison, the little robot that was the barely the size of his palm looked tiny when it landed in the middle of one of the flower head.

It was... beautiful.

And it looked like it would hurt.

How in the hell could something like this grow inside someone’s body?

Was this what it looked like? If these sunflowers weren’t fully grown, then how much larger can these grow inside a body? How much more until the flowers were too much for the host to handle?

What did it look like for him? Roses were tiny compared to sunflowers, so there was no way that—

There was no way it was as bad as this simulation. Should he ask for an x-ray? But, that meant he’d have to go to the hospital, and then they might keep him in there after, and then eventually, Ratio was going to find out that—

His thoughts come to a screeching halt when he felt a hand settle gently on his head. A pat.

Nearly startled, Aventurine glanced up to see Ratio standing beside him with an observant expression as he studied the tank.

“This was the results after running several trials,” Ratio said evenly, drawing Aventurine’s attention back to the tank. The robot that sat on the flower head was floating up and around again.

Aventurine pointed at the glass. “Are the sunflowers a stylistic choice or did you guys just randomly pick one to grow?”

“Neither,” Ratio let out a short sigh. “We’re still trying to determine why specific flowers grow despite similar conditions. Interestingly, other universities have reported to growing something different. For example, the university in Xianzhou is growing camellias while the one in Belabog is growing hydrangeas.”

“Huh.” Aventurine tilted his head in thought. “Is there some correlation going on there? Like, I remember seeing this morning that someone grew yellow roses, but someone else a long while back grew lilies.”

“One theory is that the flowers are tied to the victim’s love interest,” Ratio said. “More specifically, their favorite flower.”

Favorite

flower?

Why was he growing roses then?

Didn’t Ratio say something about not having a favorite flower? Or that he was indifferent to roses? Why was it roses? Unless, Aventurine was in love with someone else… right? Was he in love with someone else? Had he been projecting all of these things onto Ratio this entire time?

Something was wrong.

This entire disease was wrong.

“Of course, that is just a theory we cannot confirm yet,” Ratio remarked, indirectly pulling Aventurine out of his spiral and into a silent confusion. “Since for some of the patients, the flowers inside of their bodies weren’t related to their interest.”

“What does that mean?”

“There were a mix of answers we’ve collected. For a very few half of victims, they were their own favorite flowers. For the other, they were the ones they—or their interest—hated.”

So, there was something significant and complicated about it—the flowers inside his body. But out of all the things he could’ve grown…

The bright yellow sunflowers were hurting his eyes. Aventurine turned away from the spectacle to make his way back to the cluttered desk—sinking back into the comfortable chair with a heavy sigh. Despite his heavy eyes, he picked up a clipboard to barely skim through the contents.

“What’s this?”

“Notes from the other universities,” Ratio said, following Aventurine to the desk. He leaned against it casually, arms crossed as he glanced at the clipboard in Aventurine’s hands. Seconds later, the little ghost companion had returned and hovered in front of Aventurine’s face, catching Aventurine’s attention.

Aventurine smiled slightly at the deadpanned pixel stare, putting down the clipboard to give the ghost robot a poke.

“This guy looks like you,” Aventurine commented as the robot pushed its tiny head against his finger. “Did you design him?”

“Herta and Stephen designed one for everyone in the lab for easier research usage as they’re able to access simulations, manage experiments remotely and efficiently, and relay messages around the lab.”

“So, does this thing act like you then or does it have free will?”

Ratio furrowed his brows. “It’s an artificial intelligence robot.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Aventurine sang out, flipping his hand so the robot could perch on top of his palm. The robot gave him a blink. “I mean, it looks like you, so there’s no way it doesn’t act like you.”

Ratio glanced at the bot, and he pressed his lips in a thin line—unamused. “It doesn’t act like me. It works based on pre-programmed parameters and machine learning from interactions.”

Aventurine tilted his head and shot Ratio a skeptical look. Then, with his other hand, he gave the robot mini taps on the head before the robot suddenly exclaimed into a rush of digital chirps like it was scolding Aventurine.

“See?” Aventurine held up the ghost as if he was presenting evidence. “This guy is 100% like you. Moody and likes to lecture.”

Ratio narrowed his eyes. “...It’s not moody.”

“Right, so if I poke it again, it’s not going to curse me out?”

Ratio let out a heavy exhale, watching Aventurine’s exhausted eyes flicker with amusement as Ratio reached and plucked the robot from Aventurine’s hand to set it on the table. Once perched, the robot slightly moved over to its original corner and closed its eyes before it shut its screen off.

“Guess it also has a curfew. Just like someone else I know,” Aventurine teased as he stood up from the chair.

“It’s uploading data.”

“It’s uploading data. Right.” Ratio scoffed slightly at the parrot as Aventurine reached for a pair of glasses on the desk, handling it with care as he lifted it up from the desk. “I think it’s kind of nice though—having a little sentient robot work with you and stuff.”

“...I suppose so,” Ratio said, his brows knitted in thought. For some reason, there was a sense of solemn that lingered, despite the small smile on Aventurine’s face. “You’ve never had a pet before, right?”

“Nope, never,” Aventurine replied, inspecting Ratio’s glasses as if there was something intriguing about it. “I hung out with Topaz’s pet though when I lived with her for a bit. The amount of times I was so close to going to an adoption center,” Aventurine laughed a bit.

Ratio tilted his head. “Why didn’t you?”

“Well,” Aventurine rotated the glasses around. “In all honesty, I was just feeling lonely.”

Ratio blinked, surprised by the sudden honesty. But at the same time, it made him curious as to the response. “Lonely?” Ratio repeated, his voice quiet, careful to not sound like he was prying.

Aventurine shrugged casually, giving Ratio a small smile as an answer on its own. Then, Aventurine asked, “What about you? Did you ever want a pet?”

“Not particularly, no. It’s not something I think about.”

“Even when you were living alone?”

Ratio frowned slightly as he crossed his hands and rested against the edge of the desk. Yes, he had lived alone and not once had he thought about bringing home a companion—because he preferred the silence. Away from civilization, because it helped him focus on his studies. It had been like that for almost years now, and not once had he thought about bringing home a pet, a robot, or someone.

He still did prefer the silence, and he wasn’t lonely.

Although, there was a difference between feeling lonely and feeling like someone was gone—

“I can see you as a cat person.”

Ratio squinted at the comment and was about to ask for clarification until he felt something slide onto his his face—his glasses, before he felt Aventurine give the bridge a little tap to push it up a bit.

“They’re low-maintenance, independent, and take naps all the time. The only thing you have to do is feed them,” Aventurine grinned. “I’d say a cat would be the most compatible for a moody guy like you.”

Ratio’s gaze shifted to an unimpressed expression as he readjusted his glasses to make it sit properly on his face. “First of all, you shouldn’t make conjectures,” Ratio paused for a brief, thoughtful moment. “Second of all, if you wanted a robot, then I can arrange something for you so you can have something at home.”

The offer nearly startled Aventurine, who nervously waved his hand out of instinct. “No—no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. I don’t want a robot or anything.”

“Then did you want a cat?”

“I—no, no,” Aventurine grew flustered. “I don’t want anything. I was just bringing all the stuff up since…” The words fell off, just as Aventurine slowly dropped his hands to rest on the edges of Ratio’s desk and flitted his gaze away. “I’m just speaking my mind. I think the all-nighter’s getting to me.”

“Do you want to head home then?”

“No, it’s fine. Besides, I really want to check out the new cafe after this.”

Ratio raised a brow at the smile, but his attention lingered long at Aventurine’s face. He reached his hand out, but realized his action halfway through that he forced his hand to hover mid-air. Aventurine glanced over at the hand, not saying anything except for providing Ratio an answer with a slight tilt of his head.

Gently, Ratio brushed Aventurine’s cheek and against the scratch mark. “Does it still hurt?” Ratio asked quietly.

Aventurine felt his body stiffen as he hitched his breath from the warm touch—and for some reason, Aventurine had to make a conscious effort to not push his head any further into the hand. “No, not anymore,” Aventurine replied through a mumble, feeling Ratio’s finger trail from the mark up to the bottom of his eyes—centimeters away from his eyebags.

“Did you put concealer on?”

“That and a little bit of eye cream. Does it look bad?”

“No, it’s fine.”

It was the all-nighter. That was all the reason for why his—their—heads weren’t intact as it should be. Ratio could see how exhausted Aventurine was, just as Aventurine could see how exhausted Ratio was. And being sleep-deprived was almost the same as feeling drunk, so a nap for the both of them was due.

Except, either Aventurine was drunk, or Ratio’s hand was so…

Warm. Comforting, almost.

He wasn’t sure what it was that he felt when Ratio lingered his hand down to push a strand of hair behind his ear, or when Aventurine himself betrayed his initial efforts and tipped his head further into the hand.

Nor did he know what he was thinking about when he mumbled Ratio’s name, and Ratio himself hitched his breath before he leaned his head slightly closer.

A clipboard clattered to the ground.

“What in the—“

Both of them immediately snapped their heads to the sound, and a few meters away stood Herta and Asta—strucken with a dumbfounded look and jaws barely hanging by the hinges while the box in Herta’s hand wobbled, barely hanging on for its dear life.

It was also the time when they, or at least Aventurine, realized a few people too many were also casting them the same, flabbergasted expression.

Heat surged through his body in a panic, and god, he had almost forgotten what it was like to be incredibly embarrassed. The nervous sweats clung onto his back as Aventurine let out a loud, awkward laugh.

“Oh, wow! Thanks for taking the lint out of my hair! How did I not notice that, haha,” Aventurine blurted out loud, making a show of touching his own hair.

In that split second, Ratio’s hand dropped away as Ratio was in the midst of his own confusion. Lint? There was lint? Ratio backed away slightly when Aventurine brushed past him to leave the desk, but not before Aventurine turned his heel to face Ratio with an exaggerated lopsided smile.

“It was really nice to meet your little robot! I’m going to head to the restroom for a bit. Just, uh… Let me know when you’re all done, yeah?”

Not even a minute was spared for Ratio to confirm, process, or even say anything in reply as Aventurine spun around, hurrying past the onlookers that were spectating them. Meanwhile, Ratio stood frozen at his desk like a deer in the headlights.

Once the blonde man had disappeared behind the door, the observers—Asta and Herta included—turned to Ratio for confirmation. But before they could interview him, Ratio shot each of them a hardened glare.

Like a pack of skittish critters, the observers screeched and scampered off.

It took a few moments for the lab to settle back to its defaulted busy rhythm, or for the most part. Ratio exhaled sharply and sunk into his chair, rubbing his temples. The little ghost robot seemed to have sense the predicament when its little screen turned on—pixelated dead stare and all—and looked at Ratio before it scanned around as if confused by where the other presence went.

Meanwhile, Herta gave him a sidelong glance. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Get back to work,” Ratio replied tersely.

“For someone who’s antisocial, you sure looked very social with that guy,” Herta commented, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Ratio’s finger twitched because he was just about a mere nanosecond away from picking up a pen to shoot it right at the puppet’s forehead.

“Save your unnecessary commentary and make yourself scarce.”

Herta was about to let out another snarky remark. But, unfortunately for her, Asta immediately picked Ratio’s words as a threat and not a request.

“Right, of course,” Asta laughed nervously, nudging Herta’s arm insistently as she bent down to retrieve the fallen clipboard. “Let’s get back to putting those away, Miss Herta.”

“You’re just going to ignore what just happened?—”

“I really don’t want to take you back in for repairs again,” Asta muttered.

Herta scoffed as she dramatically stuck her chin up. “Fine. You guys are boring.”

Alas, the pair finally dragged themselves away, leaving Ratio back into his peaceful solitude. Except peaceful wasn’t the correct word. The buzz of irritation had simmered down into something else—something that he couldn’t exactly interpret. All that he could describe was that he was nervous.

Essentially, he was sleep-deprived. His current thought process and decision-making skills weren’t top-notch as it should’ve been, so whatever happened earlier…

— THERE WAS A WAVE OF NERVOUSNESS AS THE GHOST ROBOT SEARCHED AROUND THE DESK —

“...Veritas.”

11.

The first full day after the move-in, Ratio had frankly forgotten he was living with someone.

Midway through cleaning up after breakfast, he heard a creak of a door swinging open, followed by hasty patterings of footsteps and the bathroom door slamming shut.

And about five minutes after, when Ratio was putting on his shoes and preparing for the morning train, the frantic patterings came again. This time, it ran down from the hallway up to just right about him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught an extra pair of hands darting for the shoe rack to grab the other pair of shoes.

“Hi, sorry.”

Ratio squinted, turning his head slightly to see how particularly out of breath Aventurine looked, alongside the fact(s) that Aventurine’s hair was messier than what Ratio was familiar with and how flushed he was.

“Did you just wake up?” Ratio asked flatly.

Aventurine let out a nervous laugh, shoving his feet into his shoes and fumbling with the laces. “Yeah, haha. I forgot to turn on my alarm last night,” he admitted with a sheepish shrug before he checked his phone quickly. “It’s a ten-minute walk from here, right?”

“Yes,” Ratio confirmed, standing straight up. “It won’t arrive until thirty minutes from now.”

“Yeah, okay then—” Aventurine paused briefly as if he had just realized something when he looked up at Ratio with a surprised look. “Are you taking the train too?”

Ratio furrowed his brows, and he was about to respond until it was his turn to remember a fact.

Right.

They have never interacted or gone to the train station before, despite taking the same morning train. Perhaps Aventurine had never noticed him, but there were only five occasions that Ratio saw Aventurine in the time they knew each other.

The first time was when they had never met each other.

The second to the last times, it was either due to the extremely packed crowd that they’ve completely missed each other or Ratio had caught glimpses of Aventurine sprinting into another car a minute before the doors were closing.

“We should go now,” Ratio stated, deciding to not answer the question. But, as he usually did, Aventurine took that as an answer already and shot him a wide smile of understanding.

He doubted Aventurine was the type of person to wake up five minutes before he needed to leave. But expectations subverted, it happened again the next morning.

Except instead of looking frantic like the day before, Aventurine simply shuffled to the shoe rack and shoved his feet into his shoes five. This wasn’t a problem if it weren’t for the fact that Ratio hadn’t seen Aventurine emerge out of his room five minutes prior to when they had to leave. Again.

And again. And again.

By the start of the next week, Ratio was thoroughly unimpressed when Aventurine casually arrived at the shoe rack at exactly the right time.

“Do you always wake up at this time?”

“Kind of,” Aventurine yawned, eyes half-closed. “I get up whenever I need to.”

Ratio raised a brow. “And eating breakfast isn’t one of those needs?”

“I’m not a breakfast person anyway.”

“Despite the many times your stomach growled on the train?”

“That was only, like, twice!”

“Five times.”

Aventurine gave an exasperated sigh as he brushed past it with a dismissive wave. “I’ll live, don’t worry.”

Ratio sighed because while Aventurine hadn’t complained once about food, he noticed that Aventurine fought back by taking a nap instead. Hence, Ratio reached into his bag and pulled out a plastic bag with a sandwich inside of it. Aventurine looked at it with confusion as Ratio extended the bag to him wordlessly.

When Aventurine didn’t react, Ratio shook it. “Just take it,” Ratio insisted firmly.

The shake returned Aventurine to life, and his fingers sheepishly accepted the gift. But, that sheepish demeanor was gone in a second when a sly smile spread across his face.

“Well I guess every moody, intimidating guy can be a nice guy,” Aventurine joked, dramatically nudging at Ratio’s arm with his elbow. “Right?”

Ratio shot Aventurine a look, holding back a retort to let out a scoff instead. “Eat the sandwich,” Ratio said curtly. “And wake up earlier. Your hair’s a mess.”

Aventurine grinned wider in amusement from the deflect. “Is it really that bad?” He asked, although unconcerned when he exaggeratedly ran his fingers through his hair. Unfortunately, Aventurine’s fingers didn’t catch the small tangle on the back of his hair that Ratio gave a sigh again.

“Move your hand.”

Aventurine obliged, dropping his hand to his side. Ratio reached for the back of Aventurine’s head and ran through his hair, carefully untangling each small knot Ratio caught. The grace of the morning fluttered between them as Aventurine offered Ratio an appreciation gift with a simple, lazy hum.

(“Are you in a good mood today, Ratio? Is there something special going on?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”)

12.

Was he in love?

Or was he in love with the idea of it?

The latter part seemed more plausible—he was simply projecting onto the closest person he knew, that person being who he considered a really close friend who he lived with for almost a year now.

But, realistically, it wasn’t simply meant to happen, and he was just being delusional.

There were so many possibilities and outcomes for Ratio—so many things out there for himthat Ratio rightfully deserved. People, opportunities, success, happiness, love.

And he had no right nor interest in ruining that aspect for Ratio.

With that reasoning, that should’ve been enough to cure him out of it.

…

The book cafe was warm and lively—the space adorned by strings of fairy light, plenty of seasonal decorations, and the rich aroma of pleasant espresso. With the buzz of conversations and the impressively cozy atmosphere with book shelves wrapping the huge building, it was evidently clear that this cafe was a hotspot for students, book readers, and locals alike.

It was mainly due to the reviews and that fact the cafe was essentially a library that Aventurine suggested they stopped by this place. After all, Ratio breathed books and Aventurine did think about trying out ‘reading’ today.

Both of them were seated at a corner table with a small pile of book sitting next to them along with two plates of half-eaten Frostweave salmon breads and half-empty cups of coffee. It was a lovely scene set up in a lovely place like this.

Here was the issue: reading was impossible.

Why?

It wasn’t the actual reading part that was impossible. It was more of the part where his hand was fidgeting nervously with the corner of the pages, his legs bouncing restlessly that he might accidentally smack his knee onto the table, and his eyes kept darting over to Ratio and back at the book every few seconds that made this endeavor impossible.

Aventurine had already escaped to the restroom once—back at the lab—to compose himself and manifest a calm and collected person. But his brain was a jumbled mess, and it still was the more he thought about it. He could feel his heart pound intensely, earlier and now, as if they were back at the lab.

Standing at Ratio’s desk.

And…

Nope. Stop it.

He was overthinking it again. There was no way all of that happened. All in his head. All in his wild imagination.

“Uh,” Aventurine croaked, an attempt to break the silence. But, when he lifted his head, he inadvertently met Ratio’s eyes, who looked up instinctively. A beat passed quickly before both of them darted their eyes back at their books.

This was awkward.

So, so awkward.

He forced a swallow down his throat, trying to decipher exactly what he was reading. The longer he tried, the worse it got until the printed letters became dark blots of ink.

Nothing happened, nothing happened, nothing happened.

The sound of Ratio clearing his throat broke his haze.

“...Is there something?” Ratio asked quietly.

Aventurine’s jaw nearly shook, and he shook his head far too quickly. “No—nope, I’m fine. I was, uh,” Aventurine stumbled, awkwardly standing from his chair and closing his book. “I’m gonna go find a different book. I’ll be back.”

Ratio raised a brow but didn’t press further. “...Sure.”

Aventurine felt his lips make a weird smile.

The farther he went inside, the quieter and less crowded it got. Instead of espresso, it was the scent of old books that lingered while a sea of oak-colored shelves welcomed him inside.

Funny that between the two of them, Aventurine was the one making frequent trips through the library more than the book guy himself. But, well, Aventurine was the one who couldn’t even make it through one book while Ratio had went through his fourth one out of the seven he brought over.

Aventurine found himself at the furthest, empty aisle, absently running his fingers along the spines of ancient-looking books. He paused on a hardcover without a title, pulling it out without much thought before he flipped it open, letting the pages flutter under his thumb.

Why did he think Ratio was going to kiss him? Kiss him, out of all things?

He was losing his mind, that was a hundred percent a fact. Something was that wrong with him, whether it was the sleep deprivation or some psychological symptom of the disease.

Unless…

Was he actually in love with Ratio? The flowers growing inside him were roses, but Ratio had never said anything about it being his favorite. Did that mean that Aventurine was in love with someone else?

Was he completely mistaken, but he just projected his feelings onto Ratio just because Ratio was the closest person he knew?

Was that why he got so jealous at that customer?

Maybe the idea of romance had gotten so far up in his head that it nearly screwed up his brain, so that was the reason why he got jealous and why he thought Ratio was going to kiss him. He just wanted to be kissed, that’s all, really.

The thought slammed into him, and his eyes widened.

Why in the world did he want to be kissed?

The book clattered to the floor as Aventurine stumbled back against the shelf, yanking his collar up to his mouth. He pushed the fabric against this lips when the pressure suddenly clawed violently inside his throat and threatened him for release.

Aventurine trembled, heaving and praying to the heavens above that he was not going to vomit in the middle of this cafe right now—not in public. Not in front of anyone. Not in front of Ratio. He held his breath, clenched his jaw, and tried to swallow down the flowers.

You’re fine.

You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine.

It had only been ten minutes.

Just ten, yet Ratio hadn’t been able to progress past the first chapter that he had been trying to read for the past thirty minutes. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the edge of his book, his focus shifting from a certain direction back at his book.

There was a whole conversation about it this morning about crossing lines and boundaries, and here he was: back at square one.

The way Aventurine had barely read his book, how he caught Aventurine anxiously fidgeting his leg and hands around, and how their attempts at conversations all failed with each falling into abrupt silence.

What was he thinking?

This was a frank statement. Ratio didn’t know what he was thinking back at the lab. Only that there was a strong impulse that struck him in that moment. A surge of emotion.

If Herta and Asta hadn’t interrupted, he might’ve… gone through with it (?).

Ratio carefully peeled off his glasses and set it down on the table to rub the bridge of his nose.

Apologies were in order again, and sooner rather than later. He’d clear the air, and then he’d ensure Aventurine’s comfort and that he himself could seriously keep a strong rein on his actions—drunk, sleep-deprived, or otherwise.

It truly caught him off-guard as it wasn’t something he had ever experienced. But, it was something to question.

Why was it exactly that he had that urge toward Aventurine in that moment?

The faint clatter of his glasses prodded him out of his thoughts. Ratio looked up sharply, finding his glases hovering in the air and balancing between a pair of familiar hands.

Beside him stood Aventurine, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he slid the glasses onto his own face.

“Oh, wow.” Aventurine squinted dramatically. “You’re not as blind as I thought you’d be.”

Ratio blinked, surprised by the sudden casualness in the tone and body language despite the last hour they’ve been in this cafe. Eventually, he sighed in exasperation as Aventurine returned to his seat—noticing his glasses perched haphazardly on Aventurine’s nose. “Did you find anything you were interested in?”

“Sort of,” Aventurine hummed as he introduced an old hardcover book to Ratio by sliding it on the table. “Check this one out. Accounts of the Astral Express.”

Ratio took the book, giving Aventurine a quick glance since he was still skeptical by the change of… mood. While he quietly brooded about it, he opened the book and skimmed through the first few pages.

“I didn’t know you were interested in reading historical fiction.”

“I thought the summary sounded cool, so why not?”

Aventurine formed a wide smile. Ratio furrowed his brows as Aventurine pulled the glasses off of his face to set it in front of Ratio. Ratio’s hand tightened around the old book, thinking for a moment, before he opened his mouth.

“Aventurine,” he began. “About earlier, I wanted to say that—”

“Oh!” Aventurine suddenly interrupted, snapping his fingers. “Y’know March, right? Stelle’s friend? I saw her working earlier and she was telling me about some festival that’s happening next week. Something about the hundredth meteor shower going on that night. The flier’s up at the front, so we can grab one.”

Ratio didn’t need hints to know that Aventurine was indeed deflecting, not allowing him to bring up what happened at the lab at all.

He was going to follow along, but his next words faltered as his eyes widened.

“...Aventurine.”

Aventurine frowned, confused by Ratio’s sudden sharp voice until he felt something trickling down his nose. His hand slowly rose to wipe at the dampness.

He pulled his fingers away and looked down.

Chapter Text

roses

13.

— CASE ???: AN INTERVIEW —

“I don’t know how, but she found out last week that I was in love with her. I denied it because I knew she didn’t like me, but things became awkward.

She apologized for not being able to reciprocate it, so there was that.

I figured that was going to happen anyway, so I wasn’t surprised.

The flowers? Lilies.

No, they aren’t her favorite, and I don’t know anyone else that likes lilies. It’s weird though since unironically, I don’t like lilies.

Yes, I… do love her.

No, I didn’t tell her.”

…

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

2 weeks

It should’ve hurt, or at least Aventurine had expected it would hurt for the first nosebleed of his life. But, no.

It wasn’t painful.

No sharp sting or debilitating, mind-numbing pain that suggested he got some sort of head trauma or internal issues to tell him ‘hey, you’re bleeding and you’re going to die.’ It was simply nothing, which was why Aventurine moved so absently when he wiped at his nose with his fingers and looked down at the smeared blood on his skin.

— A SIMPLE THOUGHT —

What

happened?

There was a gradual shift.

The sounds around him took a dive underwater—as if he was back in the river swimming again, or when he had gotten slapped in the face at the flower shop yesterday. But, there wasn’t any slap, any water.

Just the cold sweat down his neck and the black spots floating all around him as the blood dripped.

Dripped, dripped.

Dripped. Onto the table.

His shoulders shook.

“...turine.”

He couldn’t hear, but he could still feel when two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, his head tilting downwards—which nearly threw his world into a dizzying fit. A twisted napkin fitted itself into his nose, nearly startling Aventurine out of his daze.

“Stay still.

A voice echoed through, barely audible in the world of muffled noise. Yet, it served as a reminder for Aventurine that, right—he was with Ratio right now.

Aventurine blinked sluggishly, sucking the air through his teeth in hopes that the air was enough to stop his stomach from churning with nausea. But, his tastebuds were filled with nothing but the taste of foul, floral iron.

“What’s…”

“It’s a nosebleed,” Ratio explained, hovering another napkin underneath Aventurine’s mouth. “It’ll stop in a few minutes.”

Aventurine exhaled shakily, raising his numb hands to take the napkin to press it against his mouth and spit.

He wasn’t a squeamish person by any means, if anything, at all. He had watched plenty of bloody action scenes and horror movies, and he had accidentally cut his hands at work way too many times. But, at this moment, it was a sickening feeling to taste the blood and to think about the blood coming out of his nose that made his skin shiver uncomfortably.

Well, there was a first for everything anyway. After all, he was an exceptionally healthy person who had survived long enough somehow.

But, why was he bleeding so much?

Why was there blood coming out of his nose?

Did he hit something? Was it something inside of his body?

What was it?

Was he going to die?

Was he dying?

Right now?

Tap, tap, tap on his shoulder.

Ratio’s voice again. “Can you feel this?”

Aventurine’s fingers twitched when he saw Ratio take his free hand and rubbed a napkin against the bloodstains—a scratchy feeling against his skin, and his eyes stared at the red that smudged onto Ratio’s hands.

Ah.

Sorry.

A squeeze on his hand. “Aventurine?”

“Oh.” Aventurine cleared his throat and crumpled up the napkin on his mouth. “Yeah—yeah, I think I can feel it. Yeah.”

He only hoped that the answer was enough to pass the clinical test—whatever Ratio was trying to gauge on. A part of him prayed that he didn’t look exceptionally freaked out by his entire predicament, but that was a hard ask from him to himself.

What else could he not do?

About everything else at this point, he figured.

There was a scrape of a chair, startling Aventurine with the sharp screech that echoed too loud for his liking. But it wasn’t the noise that nearly made him jump out of his chair. Rather, it was the sudden movement—touch—of Ratio’s hand pulling him in by the shoulder until Aventurine was leaning into Ratio’s chest, their bodies angled in a way that was just enough for Ratio to discreetly hide him (his current turmoil) from the customers passing by.

Aventurine sagged into Ratio’s grip in response with a tired mumble.

“Ratio.”

“Just stay like this,” Ratio whispered. “It’ll be over in a bit.”

“... okay.”

— RATIO’S HAND RESTED ON THE BACK OF HIS NECK —

He didn’t know what Ratio looked like right now. What Ratio might be thinking about.

Ratio didn’t say anything.

(Was he disappointed?)

Just sat there, holding him closely, making sure he didn’t fall. Whatever the gentle brushing of Ratio’s thumb on his neck meant, Aventurine found it oddly comforting.

(Was he annoyed?)

Reminiscent of when Ratio almost touched his neck at the lab—when Aventurine found himself standing close, directly in front of Ratio, and found himself whispering Ratio’s name as if

there was a possibility

of something

happening

(That’s delusional)

Aventurine wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed—either five minutes or five decades, he guessed—before his nose cleared up and he was able to breathe again. It prompted him to flicker back to life, reviving his focus to the drenched, bloody tissue discarded onto the table.

What an uncomfortable thing to look at.

Uncomfortable in a way where the dark red shade looked odd,

entrancing even, that he couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

His mind collapsed the thoughts when his chin was tilted upwards by a firm hand until Aventurine was directly staring at Ratio’s studying scrutiny, who’s gaze raked over him meticulously. Carefully.

Looking for something.

What else was there?

Aventurine hitched his breath instinctively as the dark red eyes quietly observed, or looked for, whatever was on his face—whatever it was. In a more… grounded mind, Aventurine would’ve blurt a joke about how it felt like visiting a doctor for the bi-annual checkup.

But, unfortunately now, Aventurine would rather pass away than let anyone, doctors included, get inside his body and figure out everything.

With a certain prospective doctor sitting in front of him, Ratio was bound to notice something—notice something better than Aventurine himself standing in front of the mirror. Ratio’s hand held Aventurine’s head in place as if he might move his head—although Aventurine didn’t have any intentions to.

It was merely a checkup, but this—this was almost the same as the lab where all it could take was one small movement. One motion. One action. One choice. One urge, one impulse, one slip of rationality, one of something from one of them.

A fact: Anticipation was a cruel friend.

Ratio released Aventurine’s chin and nodded slightly; a skeptical look still remained on his face. “It’s done now. Does it…” His voice trailed off.

No.

Ratio’s mouth was moving, but the voice was gone—dragged underwater again. Aventurine blinked, furrowed his brows, and tried to focus. It was like someone smeared finger oil all over the lenses while Aventurine tried to peer through the camera. The world was blurry and here, instead of a library cafe, he sat inside a tunnel with hardly any light, any shapes, and no people.

The only thing he could make sense from this was the pulse that thundered in his ears, and the hot, yet cold, flashes sliding around inside his skin.

But, the thing was: Ratio was gone.

Huh.

Weird.

How weird.

Aventurine thought as he tilted his head unconsciously, his mind slowly blurring the world—as if it had hands of its own to cover his eyes, barely allowing him to peek through the crack of its fingers.

He raised his own hand to push the palm against his mouth, his lips parted slightly like he was about to become a fish out of the water, and his body folded over—gasping and attempting to suck the air through his teeth.

His pulse tap, tap, tap, tapped like a relentless finger against the window pane.

His heart knockknocknockknockknockknocked like the heart underneath the floorboards that got louder and louder with every second that passed. Except, time wasn’t passing so he had no idea if it had been five minutes or five decades of sitting in wherever he was at, and something was pushing against his chest to beg to Get out and the pulse in his ear started to ring, so Aventurine curled his fingers and swallowed hard and—

“Come back.”

A soft, verbal prod. When Aventurine squinted his eyes, a blur waved in front of him until slowly, slowly, the blur turned into a shape of a hand—Ratio’s—waving from the distance outside, right next to the cafe door.

Outside.

Aventurine glanced around, realizing the shivers going through his arms as he raised his head to the gray sky. Then, to the crowd around him. Back to Ratio.

Come back.

How did he even get out here in the first place?

How much time had passed already?

He must’ve stood frozen in place long enough that instead of him walking over, it was Ratio who decided to move first, making his way until Aventurine was staring up at Ratio’s face from less than a few inches away—watching the red eyes study him with knitted brows.

The shivers came back, and so did nervousness.

“Does the fresh air help a little bit?”

Help? Did it help? Help what? “I don’t,” Aventurine turned to the cafe window—confusion stuck onto his words, “know.”

There was a low hum that escaped Ratio’s lips that pressed together—a sign he knew for whenever Ratio was in deep thought about something—and for that reason, Aventurine could feel the sweat down his neck like he was a toddler about to get found out for causing trouble.

Well, that wasn’t too far off.

Rather than sitting inside to have a nice time reading books and drinking some coffee, they were both standing out in the freezing weather because of whatever commotion he must’ve done for them to have to leave the cafe.

There was no doubt about it now that Ratio’s patience was wearing thin—thinner than Aventurine could probably imagine. In fact, it was a miracle at this point that Ratio didn’t leave him yet after all of the shit he caused for Ratio, and that…

ah.

what a sad thing to think about.

“Come back.”

Come back?

Ratio waved a hand in front of his eyes again, causing Aventurine to snap back to view. This time, they were still standing at the same spot rather than elsewhere.

“Sorry,” Aventurine shut his eyes and shook his head slightly with a hard swallow. “What happened?”

“You were…” Ratio’s mouth moved, yet the voice was muffled. “...you

walked out…would’ve

wandered if…I didn’t

…should go home now.

are you…?

can

you hear

stay

me…

Aventurine?”

15.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

2 weeks

Dreams were a funny thing.

Sometimes, they came in vivid imagery of traffic lights and rushing cars with blurred faces and loud static noises.

Sometimes, they were simply scenes of him sitting somewhere—at work or in his room—staring down at something in the dark. Maybe holding something cold in his hands.

Sometimes, they were him standing in front of the train platform, watching the blur of the train. Or he was sitting in the bathtub full of cold water, or he was simply staring down at the river as he sat on the railings.

Aventurine was merely the spectator of his own body, watching each slip happen over and over again until he could almost remember it in detail. Until Aventurine wondered.

Would things be better that way?

He wasn’t scared, but he was at the same time.

So, when Aventurine stirred, he had expected some sort of light blinding him. But as he slowly peeled his eyes open, the color of nothing greeted him. The same shades as if Aventurine shut his eyes tightly and imagined what would it look like after every dream.

Something heavy hugged him, weighing him down in a strange sense of comforting suffocation until Aventurine forced himself to push against it with the arms that he could barely even feel. The weight shuffled and moved until a chill assaulted his body—and Aventurine grabbed onto the weight to pull it back until it drowned his entire body inside.

Except the warmth it was supposed to give didn’t help at all, leaving Aventurine’s body tensing up tightly and curling inwards until his muscles ached and his heart was drumming against the back of his throat.

Then, a sound outside.

From somewhere.

— A DIALOGUE —

“When is it going to be? This coming weekend?”

“I won’t be able to since I have something going on.”

“Herta, Ruan Mei, and Stephen are already going. My presence isn’t requi—”

“Mm. Mmhm. Fine. I’ll look at my schedule again.”

“Bye.”

The voice faded, only to be replaced by the sounds of something that grew heavier and heavier. It took Aventurine too long to figure out that it was footsteps drawing closer that he couldn’t prepare to hold back the flinch when a loud creak echoed—startling him that laid buried underneath the weight.

“Aventurine?”

Oh.

Aventurine, frozen and hidden, snapped his eyes down at the white bedsheets underneath him before what looked like dark blue blankets that slowly pulled away until he was looking at his roommate—who peeked in from the outside.

“You’re awake.”

The blankets moved further away as Aventurine slowly sat up straight, the void now illuminated by a faint light from the hallway to reveal that the silk-covered bed and the blue blankets weren’t his—and neither was the entire room.

One cog clicked, but the rest were still stuck.

“Ratio, I—”

The attempt of an apology crumbled when Ratio closed the distance—a look of worry as he leaned over the bed with the same meticulous eyes that made Aventurine hitch his breath.

“You’re sweating so much.”

Was he?

Now that Ratio mentioned it, there was an uncomfortable stickiness on his body that made Aventurine look down and realize that, yes, his shirt was drenched, and there were wet spots staining all over the sheets of the bed. Ratio’s bed.

If it was his own, Aventurine would hardly care, but, “Oh, shit. I didn’t mean to mess this up, uh—I’ll wash your sheets and change it for you right now.”

Ratio shook his head and waved a hand, gesturing to Aventurine to stay as he was. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Did you sleep enough?”

Sleep. So he had been sleeping this whole time—although he was drawing a blank on how he even got home. More or less whatever happened before that, or why he was in Ratio’s room in the first place.

But, even for however long he slept for, Aventurine found his eyes and body heavier than earlier today.

“I don’t know,” a quiet, honest answer. But, despite how he was feeling, Aventurine betted that his eye bags weren’t as dark as the ones in front of him. “You didn’t sleep.”

“I slept on the couch.”

“You should’ve slept on your bed,” he said, but after realizing, he quickly went, “I’ll go back to my room so you can—“

“I brought you to my room.” Ratio interrupted, making Aventurine stop from moving away. “It was easier for me to watch over you here and make sure nothing happens.”

“Oh.”

Aventurine’s shoulders shrunk, and his fingers tangled with the blankets as he averted his glance away from his roommate.

What a funny feeling.

To be taken care of like this—as Ratio always did—was a nice thing. And yet, he was barely a functioning human being for the past however long that at this point, it wouldn’t surprise him if Ratio wanted to kick him out for pestering the hell out of him recently.

After all, he hadn’t done much for Ratio to make his life any easier.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, I suggest you stop.”

Aventurine stiffened—holding back the urge to curl his body up, yet a sarcastic mumble escaped him. “Sounds easy enough.”

A brief pause. “I didn’t mean to word it like that.” The bed dipped more, making Aventurine look over to see Ratio had shifted his posture to be straighter. “You’re free to say what's on your mind rather than dwelling on it. Whatever that may be.”

Aventurine flicked his gaze over at the dark eyebags and the red shades barely peeked out of the dark—a sense of solemn hanging in the air. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve assumed this solemn expression was simply one of Ratio’s default faces. But, the man was tired as if he pulled three all-nighters in a row.

Hence, “You should get some sleep.”

“I already slept.”

“I doubt you slept enough. I’ll go back to my room so you can sleep on the bed.”

“It’s fine,” Ratio interrupted—this time with a hand on top of the blankets before Aventurine could pull them off. In turn, Aventurine shot Ratio a surprised look as Ratio quickly retracted his hand and cleared his throat. “You’re free to stay in my room instead. I don’t mind.”

Did he?

Are you sure?—A question on the tip of his tongue, and yet, Aventurine couldn’t ask. Rather, he just hoped that it was true, that Ratio didn’t mind at all. But, well, Ratio was on the border of passing out—and when the mind became exhausted, the patience was thin. And the only thing Aventurine could do at this point was wear it thinner until it snapped.

Aventurine pushed a palm against his neck, his head throbbing a numb ache as he pulled his knees to his chest. Ah, the burning pressure in his throat and the inside of his face.

He shouldn’t stay. He shouldn’t.

But the way Ratio looped an arm around his shoulders, gently drawing Aventurine into his body as Aventurine couldn’t help but bury his face into Ratio’s chest, made him hope to god that he was allowed to.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

Aventurine squeezed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, nearly choking on the air as he tried to imitate Ratio’s deep ones.

After a slow nod, his body tipped backwards until the side of his body pressed against the soft mattress—arms still wrapped around him with Ratio’s chin perched on top of his head. It was either Ratio’s arms, or Aventurine himself, as Aventurine’s body tucked itself into Ratio. He hoped it was the former, but doubted it.

“How are you feeling?”

“I,” Aventurine paused. “…don’t know. Tired. What happened earlier?”

“After your nosebleed cleared up, you said you needed air. So, you got up and left the cafe.”

“And then what happened after that? How…” Aventurine hesitated for a second. “How did we get home?”

There was a long, pensive look on Ratio’s face. “I figured you must’ve not remembered,” he started. “We made it to the train and got home, but you were in and out of sleep throughout the ride. At some point, you almost passed out at the front door, so I brought you inside to my room.”

“Oh,” an ashamed mumble. “Thank you.”

His words trailed until there was only the sounds of heavy breathings from the both of them. More from Ratio than himself, though, judging by the way Ratio was rubbing the pad of his finger on Aventurine’s shoulder—as if attempting to stay awake.

“Ratio, I can go back to my room if you need to sleep.”

However, the faint resistance on his shoulder made him pause his attempts to pull away, but the hand quickly relaxed.

“I’m still awake enough to listen,” Ratio murmured. “Trust me.”

Trust me.

What a strange, endearing statement. If anyone else had said those words, he wouldn’t bat much of an eye towards it. But, perhaps he had already fallen so much already that, just maybe.

“What’s your favorite flower?”

“My favorite flower?”

“You never told me what they were.”

“I don’t have any.”

Hesitation. “What about roses?”

“No, I don’t have any favoritism towards them. Didn’t you ask me this before?”

“I’m just trying to figure out your favorite flower for fun. Are you sure it’s not roses?”

“Why would it be roses?”

The skepticism was starting to leak through, he could hear it. But, his mouth ran faster than his head. “It’s popular. And nice. Have you seen the colors of it? Even the red ones are pretty. Even the ones that girl bought for you were nice. You got a whole bunch of them too.”

“I didn’t accept those flowers. Besides, I thought you don’t like roses.”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

13 days

A god awful laugh. “I don’t—I just thought that you do.” Oh, how the skin on the back of his neck crawled. “Nevermind, it’s nothing.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“I know it’s not nothing. What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

As much as he hoped to believe so himself—the magic words spoken before Aventurine’s mouth could run any further because at this point, he was about one next question away from finally spilling everything. And his last answer might become the last one ever spoken to Ratio ever.

So, he hoped that Ratio didn’t say or ask anything.

But, the body he clinged onto moved, pulling away from the embrace and stinging Aventurine with the cold air that Aventurine shot straight up to see Ratio leaving the bed. Wrong answer, wrong answer, he already said the wrong answer. “Ratio?”

“I’m going to get you a new shirt from your closet.”

“Don’t!”

The door barely creaked open.

Everything collapsed helplessly onto the floor—the warm blankets, the pillows in silk covers. Frantic footsteps. A hand grabbing another to pull backwards. Ratio’s head snapped around, and it took Ratio’s stunned expression to make Aventurine realize what he had done. Again, a laugh fell pathetically out of his mouth.

“It’s—it’s fine. I’m fine.” Aventurine released Ratio’s hand and raised his hands up in a surrendering motion. “You should go back to sleep. You look really tired.”

Wrong answer—the answer that made Ratio’s eyes narrow, flicking his gaze up and down that Aventurine shifted uncomfortably. Oh, the clinical scrutiny of a potential, aspiring doctor scanning for something. But, Ratio wasn’t hiding the skepticism this time, and that made Aventurine sweat more, once again as if he had been caught in a lie.

He had been caught in many lies, but there were some that he would rather die than be found out—

Aventurine flinched, his eyes squinting as his hand shot up immediately from the white light that threatened to blind him.

“Jeez, Ratio. Give me a warning next time.”

Although, that request was discredited again as Aventurine’s hand was pulled away from his face and suddenly, he was staring up close at Ratio’s face, whose eyes widened.

“You have to go to the hospital now.”

What?

Dragged by the hand, Aventurine pushed his hand by the doorframe, still startled by the reaction as he stopped them both from walking any further out of the room. “What—what are you talking about?” He asked, his breathing intensifying in a panic. “Did you see something? Is there something wrong with me?”

The hand held his tighter, and the expression held firm—but Aventurine saw the hint of panic undertoning Ratio’s face that he was panicking now. What exactly did Ratio see? He wasn’t coughing up flowers, not in front of Ratio, and it wasn’t as if Ratio went into his room earlier today. Right?

“Did you go inside of my room?” Aventurine asked, the pressure intensifying inside his throat. “You didn’t go inside right?”

“I didn’t, but that’s not important right now. You need to go—”

“I don’t,” a struggled inhale, “need to go anywhere.”

Wrong answer. Once again.

Aventurine’s feet walked, pulled forward by the hand holding his until Ratio drew him to the bathroom—pulling Aventurine inside until Aventurine yanked his hand away with narrowed eyes.

“Ratio, seriously. What’s going on with you?”

“I should be asking you that same question,” Ratio said, but the tone was sharp, and a finger directed Aventurine’s attention to the mirror in front of them.

He hadn’t properly looked at himself in the mirror for a while now. Maybe a quick glance to take care of his hair or brush his teeth, but not enough to focus on the details of his face.

Or, maybe this was entirely new—Aventurine didn’t know.

How terribly messy he looked.

The dark, sunken eyebags. The pale face. The bloodshot eyes. The blue lips.

Blue?

“Shit. I think the ambulance will get here faster.”

“Wait, wait!”

He could only hope Ratio didn’t do anything yet when Aventurine shot out his arms to grab onto Ratio. But, it was a fruitless attempt when instead, the world decided to spin 180 before pushing Aventurine down against the cold, tiled floor. Body curled, forehead against the floor, he gasped for air desperately.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

11 days

“Hey!”

Hands pulled him up, holding his arms and body until his bleary vision barely made out the deep shades of red staring at him with wide, fatigued eyes. Ratio didn’t need to speak the rest—Aventurine knew exactly what he was going to say.

With mustered effort, Aventurine pulled his body away, pushing Ratio’s arms away. The movement nearly took the air out of him, but Aventurine persevered—or forced himself to as he got to his feet, abeit grabbing onto the door to support him up.

“I’m fine. You should go back to sleep though. You look like you could use it more.”

“You’re sweating excessively. Your skin is cold and pale, but you’re also feverish. You’ve blacked out more than once in a span of a couple of hours, your lips are blue, your eyes are red, you had a nosebleed.” Frustration leaked into Ratio’s voice as Ratio stood up, cornering Aventurine before he could leave the bathroom. “Now that I think about it, your symptoms have gotten worse instead for the past few weeks.”

Aventurine scoffed, propping his back against the door. “I think you might be overclocking that head of yours—”

“This isn’t a joke, Aventurine.”

“Look, it’s not as serious as you think it is—”

“You’re telling me that that,” a gesture at Aventurine’s face, “isn’t serious? Do you realize how long you’ve been saying that you’re fine for?” Ratio shook his head and narrowed his eyes, averting his gaze away with a rough rumble. “This was an oversight on my end. I shouldn’t have taken you out today.”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

10 days

Ah, what terrible, terrible thoughts.

If he could give up the ability to think, to get rid of his head, his brain, he would. If he could pluck out every string of words in his mind and snip them like scissors to frayed threads, he would. If he could close up his ears and strangle his mind to death, he would.

He would. He wanted to.

But, instead, he was forced to hear every single noise and feel every pulse banging against his nerves. There must be so, so many regrets had from Ratio. If Aventurine was Ratio himself, he would too, so he couldn’t blame him.

Fingers dug into his palms, a sting for every thought had. A shallow, raspy breath. “Sorry.”

Wrong answer. Wrong, wrong answer. Ratio moved out of the bathroom faster than Aventurine could catch him with strides that Aventurine automatically understood the intent.

Frantically, Aventurine rushed after him down the hallway. “Ratio, don’t.”

Of course, Ratio was a certain type of man who didn’t listen in his own ways. Stubborn, stoic, unmoving as a tree trunk. And Aventurine, desperate to push that tree trunk, grabbed onto Ratio’s phone on the island counter before Ratio did.

“Give me the phone.”

“Only if you aren’t going to call the ambulance.”

Ratio’s face shifted—a mix of urgency and frustrated disbelief as he tried to grab the phone, only for Aventurine to swing it away from his grasp. “Aventurine, I’m not doing this with you right now. Give me the phone.”

“I’m not joking with you either. You aren’t going to call them.”

“I’d rather get you checked up on and have it just be a fever than having you black out and end up in the emergency room with a debilitating condition!” Ratio snapped. “Now give me the phone.”

“I don’t need you to help me.” The wrong answer once again. But, who was he kidding around with at this point? He wasn’t a good test-taker anyway. “Leave it alone. Please.”

The noises trailed into rapid, shallow breaths from the both of them—as if they had just ran a marathon. There was nothing said—although Aventurine saw the ways Ratio’s eyes dart all over his face. Thinking.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

8 days

“If you tell me why you don’t want to go to the hospital, I won’t call them,” Ratio said, each syllable slow yet persistent.

Unmoving tree trunks, the both of them they were.

“You don’t,” Aventurine sucked in a breath, “need to worry about me. Okay? We’re just exhausted right now.”

“That’s not answering my question. Do you have an aversion to hospitals?”

“No, I just—I don’t.”

“Then why?”

“Because I don’t want to. Is that not a good enough reason?”

“No. It isn’t.”

The world was dizzying with the rush of bodies. Breezes blew past them as they danced a frantic one—Aventurine’s hand swinging around to avoid Ratio’s that tried to pry the phone off of his hands. His body, his throat, they burned with every wide step Aventurine took as he rushed around the coffee table.

But, Ratio was a healthy man aside from the exhaustion, so the song and dance hardly went long enough until Aventurine was backed against the corner of the kitchen counter and Ratio was standing in front of him; although the only thing keeping from Ratio away from his phone was the fact Aventurine held it behind his back.

Ratio exhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling faster than what Aventurine would expect from a man who ran every morning.

“Enough. Give it to me.”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

6 days

His back pressed further into the counter, the cold biting his skin as Ratio stepped closer and closer—his fingers trembling around the glass of the screen. “No.”

Ratio’s face twisted. “Explain to me why you’re doing all of this.”

Aventurine’s jaws stiffened, and the words laid on the tip of his tongue. Of course, an explanation was due, long overdue. But, what exactly was right and wrong to do? To say? The next words might as well be nothing but wrong, wrong, wrong answers once again—and as much as he wanted to keep his mouth shut for the sake of things, Ratio’s eyes pierced at him. Through him.

He was tired. They were both tired. Way too tired.

Exhausted enough that Aventurine’s eyes tried their damnest to focus, his body trying its damnest to force Aventurine to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him awake was the hand that grabbed for his wrist, and the phone sliding out of his hands.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

4 days

The world caved in. His hand was empty, his vision was going blurry, and there was the sound of the digital dialing before Aventurine grabbed Ratio’s arm and pulled it back like an animal clawing for desperation.

“Aventurine, don’t—”

What a messy fight this was. Oh, how messy he was.

The phone clattered to the ground. The world stood still.

It burned like sticking a hand into the blue flames.

It was a collision. Though, that was a poor excuse if anything. Avnturine’s hands were gripped tightly on Ratio’s shirt, pulling the man forward and down before he could even register his own actions and—

Forceful, messy. Oh, how messy he was.

The screams his body gave. The flowers that clawed up his throat. Oh, how messy he was.

Ratio went still, rigid. Frozen—his red shades staring wide at Aventurine.

In any other circumstances, finding the man stiff and frozen would be an amusing and unusual thing to see. But, the reaction was already unusual—and horrifying—enough that Aventurine finally realized and jerked his body away, gasping rapidly for air as he staggered back.

Ratio still didn’t move. Didn’t say anything.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong answers. Oh, how messy he was.

What a mess, what a mess, what a mess.

The words stuck to his throat.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

2 days

The front door unlocked—then closed with a harsh click.

Alone in the middle of the apartment stood only one man, stunned and looking down at the closed door. The apartment had gone silent. A pair of keys sat on the kitchen island.

A floral taste lingered on Ratio’s tongue.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

24 hours

16.

Months ago, there was a quiet night—when nothing but dust and the clatter of his glasses floated in the air as Ratio pinched the bridge of his nose. The last cup of caffeine was wearing off faster than he hoped, and he figured he might crash any time soon. But, the messy mathematical equations and half-written essays consumed every inch of space on the kitchen island.

Rest was long overdue, but unfortunately, he still needed to clean all this up before he could think about heading back to his room.

3 AM marked the clock on his dimmed phone, though bright enough that it made Ratio squint his eyes. Yet, as sluggish as he was, he still caught the faint creak of a door opening, followed by light footsteps that crept up to the end of the hallway.

“Ratio?”

A cue for Ratio to turn his head to see Aventurine standing behind him with a head tilted curiously. Funny enough, Aventurine looked remarkably alert for an ungodly time of day while Ratio supposed he looked a little worse for wear.

“You look a little worse for wear.” Aventurine quirked a smile.

“You’re still up.” Ratio commented, pronouncing his words in a slight, sluggish drawl as he traced his attention to Aventurine—who moved to the opposite side of the kitchen island to glance down at the work sprawled all over.

“And you should be sleeping.” Aventurine hummed, leaning over the counter to read off one of the papers. “Got your work cut out for you?”

Ratio exhaled through his nose, drawing in air long enough to revitalize some energy left in his reserves. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Ratio replied, tapping the pen on the table absently. “Were you staying up again?”

A noncommittal hum. Aventurine took the electric kettle, filled it up with water, and flicked it on. “Just catching up on a show. How many cups are you on? Second? Third?”

“Fourth.”

Ratio watched Aventurine scrunch his face up, almost grimacing as Aventurine reached for the empty mug that sat next to Ratio. “Jeez, you’ve been working on this stuff ever since you got home. When’s it due?”

“Next week.”

An exasperated expression—which was funny that it came from Aventurine in this specific context rather than the other way around. Though, at least it was easier to watch Aventurine move around rather than stare down at his own writing.

Moments later, his coffee mug disappeared into the sink, only to be replaced by a new one that was fresh and hot to the touch. A light green liquid settled comfortably inside with steam brushing against Ratio’s face as he looked down and swirled it around.

“Chamomile tea. It won’t kill you or anything, but it might help you pass out.”

Ratio scoffed slightly as Aventurine flashed him the usual smile he was familiar with. How funny it was to have company at this time of day, or night. Perhaps he still was trying to get used to it—seeing another face around the apartment or have someone sit next to him while he took a sip of this somewhat watered-down chamomile tea.

“What show were you watching?” Ratio asked, settling the mug down.

Next to him, Aventurine picked up one of the papers to read it.

“Some romcom show,” Aventurine answered simply. But, when he gave Aventurine a look that implied for him to continue, Aventurine squinted sheepishly. “It’s a… really cheesy romance show.”

“I know what romcoms are.”

“Oh, do you?”

An unimpressed look. Then, there was a laugh.

“Fine, fine. It’s about two childhood friends who got together through their love for music. It’s a nice story once you get past the cheesy stuff in the beginning.”

“Ah.” A slow nod. The watered-down chamomile tea lingered on Ratio’s tongue with the second sip. His eyes were growing heavier, yet there was something that compelled him to keep them open a little longer as the one with the purple eyes laughed again and cocked his head to the side.

“Go to bed, Ratio.”

“I’ll sleep later,” Ratio said, slowly blinking. Then: “Are you still watching your show?”

“After this, yeah.”

“Why don’t you play it on the TV?”

“Huh?” Aventurine, taken aback, blinked when Ratio stared at him—Ratio’s mouth not moving any further to clarify. “Did you want to watch it too?”

“No. I just think it’s better for your eyes if you watched it on a bigger screen than whatever you’re using.”

“I mean, I guess it’s better than my phone. But—right now?” No answer. “Aren’t you going to sleep soon?”

“I’ll sleep after an episode.”

How funny it was to have company at this time of night. Ratio was still getting used to it—staying up further than he should’ve to settle on the couch while his roommate turned on a show that was full of cheesy scenes and predictable writing.

Eventually, Ratio fell asleep with the taste of watered-down chamomile tea on his tongue.

17.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

20 hours

Two hours have passed.

Nothing but creaks and the anxious tapping of his finger against the counter, his head in his palm as the phone sat next to the keys.

Ratio could still feel it—the grip on his shirt that pulled him down. Aventurine’s lips pressing hard against his own. The sense of shock that came with it, and that stayed even after the hours had passed.

The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message at the tone.

Did it mean something? Did he push too far for Aventurine to resort to that?

Ratio curled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his lips, brows knitted as he rang the phone once again.

The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message at the tone.

God, his own mind was a mess. Even when he tried to gather his thoughts and calm down, he became more anxious than ever that his leg wouldn’t stop fidgeting. He kept ringing the phone to dead static—the rings initially lasting for a good 5 seconds until eventually, the phone automatically played a voicemail.

The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message at the tone.

“Aventurine.”

Silence.

“I know you need space. But, just let me know if you’re okay. Please.”

Nothing.

“Call me back whenever you can.”

Ratio inhaled a deep breath, as much as he could, until he caught the taste of floral again.

A taste that made him furrow his brows further.

A similar taste like tasting the scent of perfume—like walking through the small and quaint flower shop. Except the flower shop smelled more fresh than this one.

There were some accounts of people saying kisses tasted good—sweet maybe. At least based on Sun’s Sonata and the few times they’ve mentioned such things. But, the only reason why that might’ve been the case was the fact that those kisses were under more intimate conditions.

In this current case, Aventurine didn’t say anything and left the apartment immediately before Ratio could say something. Not to mention, the lack of returns of his phone calls for the last two hours—not even a response to text.

But, Ratio was also too slow to respond—to say anything to stop Aventurine from leaving. Maybe there were other ways to approach the circumstances without hurting Aventurine in the process yet still get him checked up on.

The damage was already done, so all Ratio could do was wait.

In most cases, he had patience. He didn’t mind waiting for things—even knew that in order to reach success, there was a virtue in letting the process happen slowly.

Yet, these last two hours were the most agonizing—worse than trying to make a singular sunflower grow throughout the weeks in that lab.

Sunflower.

Ratio rubbed his face and leaned back against his chair, inhaling a deep breath.

“It tastes like roses…”

Roses. Roses, roses.

Do you like roses?

You didn’t go inside my room, right?

The chair clattered onto the ground.

…

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

15 hours

It was cold.

The lights were out, and there was not a speck of sound in the dark train station. Aventurine laid on the bench, hugging his body tightly in this measly thin jacket he snagged right before he left. Blood stained the bench, the sleeves, and tainted his tongue from the nosebleed that happened once again.

He had only been out here for at least an hour, or maybe two—he wasn’t sure when his phone died and he had stopped bothering to check on the clock. Although, there was nothing to check or anticipate for anymore anyway.

The lines he had crossed, out of any lines he could’ve crossed—it was his only job to make sure he never did that. To just stay normal and act normal. But god forbid him from doing that because he just had to kiss Ratio—kiss Ratio.

Talk about wanting to stay friends, and Aventurine had gone and done fuck all.

There was no doubt about it anymore. It was already done for.

All the wrong answers he had continuously gave over and over and over again, all because he couldn’t figure out how to cure himself.

How to make himself move on. All because he was that stupid enough to make himself get the Hanahaki disease.

Or maybe this was what he deserved because even if he didn’t get the disease, he would end up falling in love with Ratio regardless. And this disease was just reminding him to stay in his place.

Maybe, under different circumstances, Ratio would accept flowers from someone else and keep it. Keep the little piece of paper with a phone number. Reciprocate advances. Kiss someone who wouldn’t impose themselves on him forcefully.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

10 hours

Live with them. Dated. Talk about the future.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

6 hours

Get engaged. Married. Family.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

3 hours

It was cold. So, so cold. He was far too tired to hug himself, each fingers gripping on his arms growing more and more slack as he shut his eyes—each breaths slowly, slowly, slowly fainting.

He had no idea where he was going to go. What he was going to do.

There was a belief of a place where people end up at. He never really had that belief, but maybe he should start now.

But, he had committed a crime, many crimes, so he’d probably end up somewhere else. He should’ve turned the other way when Stelle called him over to introduce him to Ratio. He should’ve turned the other way whenever he saw Ratio sitting alone on campus and working on his stuff. He should’ve kept his mouth shut about getting kicked out, or declined being Ratio’s roommate.

He should’ve never fallen in love. But, despite the guilt, there was something else. Aventurine never regretted it all, never regretted the crimes and never regretted falling in love with Ratio.

Maybe there was a place for people like him. Would it be dark and empty? Or would it simply be nothing? Like solitary confinement?

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

2 hours

“Aventurine!”

Ah.

Something pulled his shoulders back, and Aventurine barely opened his eyes to see a pair of red shades looking down at him. There were the sounds of panic, something along the lines of swears.

“No, no. Stay with me, Aventurine. Don’t close your eyes. Fuck, you’re freezing.”

“Go home.” Aventurine jerked his shoulders back into place, curling up further. “Go back home.” 

“Like hell I’m leaving you here,” Ratio’s voice bit through the air, and Aventurine felt something thick wrapped around him before an arm pulled him up and into Ratio’s body.

“Ratio, what are you—”

“Hello?

I’m requesting for an ambulance at the Astral Train Station with someone who has the Hanahaki Disease.

He’s freezing cold and losing consciousness, and there's blue on his lips and fingers.

He’s barely breathing and—”

There was a snap, a crack of wind.

Aventurine jerked his body away, trying to claw the arm wrapped around him tightly with something that sounded like a strangled scream, but Ratio hugged him tightly, trying to keep him still. “Let go of me!”

“I’m not letting you go anywhere until you get to the hospital!”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

1 hour

The train will be arriving in 5 minutes.

The struggle was enough to nearly take the air out of his lungs—Aventurine now bent over Ratio’s arm and gasping raggedly before something squeezed the inside of his chest, strangling out another ragged scream. The heels of his shoes dug into the bench frantically from the pain, and he was gripping tightly onto the arm around him.

It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt so bad.

“He’s in pain, I think something’s choking him or he’s—”

There was a ghastly noise of a broken record, gasping some semblance of a word before something vicious clawed down his throat. Suddenly, Aventurine curled up tightly and tried to cover his mouth—but viscious red spilled all over.

Oh, what agonizing noise he was making. Agonizing looking things he was retching out.

Blood, roses—they all tainted his mouth in nothing but a disgusting, visceral mess that it made him want to vomit all over again. The acidic stench was disgusting. The colors were disgusting. The petals, the rose heads.

But, Ratio was here. Ratio was here. Among the sea of reds that drenched his clothes, Ratio’s coat, his skin.

And Ratio, Ratio, was there with the most horrified look he had ever seen.

Of course he would be.

Aventurine himself, after realizing the fact, also was horrified.

“I need you to tell me who you love right now.”

His jaws stiffened, and his teeth gritted as he tried to claw the arm off of him once again.

“Let go.”

The arm persisted and Aventurine clawed harder.

“It’s not going to change anything! Let go!”

“It does! It will, I just—If you tell me who it is right now, then we can figure out a cure with the doctors, and—”

“Stop acting like there’s a cure in the first place! Why won’t you let go—!”

“Because I love you!”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

30 minutes

Aventurine’s hands stopped, his body frozen as his eyes widened. The arm wrapped around him tightly, and something—a forehead—was pressing against the back of his head.

“I’m not going to let you die.

I don’t care who it is you’re in love with, but—

please.”

Ratio was a certain type of man—a guy who studied his ass off to be a doctor and save lives. Someone who might lie if it meant to save someone else from dying. Maybe under some different circumstances, Aventurine would believe those words.

But, when an idiot was afflicted with such an absurd disease that told him otherwise, for however long it had been, in the way that it did:

“You’re lying.

You’re lying.”

But, Aventurine didn’t have the energy to pull away—to struggle anymore. Not when he felt Ratio’s head shook, his forehead pressing further into the back of his head, and his arm tightening so much around him, yet careful to not suffocate him more than he already was.

“I’m not.”

A strained, broken croak.

“I’m not lying.”

Something trailed down the back of Aventurine’s neck. Whether it was sweat or not, he couldn’t tell.

“You sleep in so late and wake up so late that I have to get you out of bed.

You watch too many movies and sing the songs too many times that it gets stuck in my head.

You make me watch Sun’s Sonata with you no matter how many times you’ve already watched it.

You talk so much, and you always pop up in my life every day that I don’t remember the times you didn’t.

If you stay alive, let me keep waking you up in the morning, or we can watch your show. Or we can cook something, or go out, or we can just sit somewhere alone and just talk.

It doesn’t matter.

We can do whatever you want.”

It didn't make sense.

None of it made sense.

After what he did earlier?

Wasn't that it? Wasn't that supposed to be the end of it? Why wasn't Ratio telling him that? Why wasn't Ratio yelling at him for it? Why wasn't Ratio telling him that it was over and done with? Or why Aventurine had did that? Wasn't Ratio angry at him?

“Why?” Aventurine uttered. “Aren’t you angry at me? I kissed you.”

“I’m not,” and it was this that Aventurine realized the cracks in Ratio’s voice. That what he thought was sweat down his neck was something else. “Because I regretted not kissing you sooner.”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

20 minutes

Oh, what a mess he was.

What a complete mess he was.

The warmth around his body, pressing against his back—Aventurine couldn’t bite down to stop the broken noises as he curled up into the hold and pushed his dirty sleeves against his eyes.

“Ratio,” Aventurine strained out.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

15 minutes

The train will be arriving in one minute.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

12 minutes

He never believed in the afterlife, nor did he have the energy to figure out whether or not he wanted to believe in it.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

10 minutes

The world was a sleeping black, like it was 3 AM and Aventurine was finally ready to pass out. Like the night after a round of beers, where both him and Ratio decided it was a good idea to sleep on the couch instead of their beds.

Maybe under some different circumstances, they would’ve slept on that couch again—watching the TV where they could talk about how cheesy the scenes were, Aventurine could annoy Ratio with pick up lines or laugh at the faces Ratio would make on some intimate scenes. 

Maybe instead of the TV, they count random lines on the ceiling after another round of chugging beers or Aventurine could make Ratio spout some random facts about anything until Ratio ran out of facts. Or Aventurine could make Ratio read his books out loud until one of them, or the both of them, fell asleep. Or they'd sit at the table trying to do homework or study something until their brains were overloaded.

“...no, no.

awake…

stay…

…Aven…!

…your eyes open!”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

9 minutes

But, well, there wasn’t any way to change things. Just hope for things, he supposed.

Ah, how messy he must’ve looked. It must been really late. Ratio’s curfew probably passed by now. He’d usually be sleeping at this time.

“He’s fading out… he’s

not respond…

bench

entrance

see them

over at

benches!

Aven…

live

say

something

please.”

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

8 minutes

There wasn’t much to see nor hear as everything had faded into a blur. Not much to feel. Just peeks of red. Aventurine opened his mouth, but he couldn’t hear his own words.

Whatever it was, hopefully Ratio could hear it over the train’s crying.

— SHELF LIFE OF A ROSE —

7 minutes

18.

— 1 —

He had barely worked his first year into the job when he stood near the door of the sterile white room with his boss. A vase of fresh, vibrant reds sat on the nightstand as soft sobbings and gentle hums echoed from a man and a woman that laid on the bed—their hands locked together with a thumb brushing against silver rings.

Aventurine kept his hands rested behind his back, fingernails digging into his palm as he listened and watched Jade console the crying couple.

Aventurine didn’t know the two very well aside from the fact that they were regulars who kept buying each other roses every week. Lovebirds, as Jade called them. Barely out of college, just recently got engaged, and now the woman was stricken with a terminal illness.

In a little bit, the heart monitor was going to give a long beep, and then there was going to be nothing else after that. The world would spin, and time would still go on.

What did she feel?

Was it just quiet? Loud?

Painful? Painless?

Did it hurt in any way at all?

He wondered as he excused himself out of the room.

— 2 —

“You got a 50 again?”

Aventurine shrugged lazily as he looked over at Topaz’s 80 marked in red on their test papers. “C’s get degrees, don’t you think?”

Topaz raised a brow before sighing. “I guess. Whatever floats your boat, or however that goes.”

“And I’d say it’s sailing perfectly fine.”

He hummed as Topaz rolled her eyes before Aventurine started to fold up the paper.

“What’d you change your major to?”

The neatly folded paper fell into the heap of mess inside Aventurine’s backpack. “Economics. Figured that was the closest thing I wanted to do.”

“Oh, really? That’s good. What did you want to do?”

Good question.

— 3 —

The train rocked his body gently, his head pressed against the metal pole as he stared out at the window of the door. Vocals and guitars mumbled in his ears, overlapping the prickling whispers in his head.

Perhaps staying up last night wasn’t a good idea again, but he never learned how to break bad habits.

Aventurine exhaled, pushed a palm against his eye, and swiped to the next song.

— 4 —

“Thank you for the lilies. They’re very lovely.”

“Of course,” Aventurine smiled at the tall green-haired fox woman. “I hope your daughter enjoys them.”

After a short come again and a polite bow of his head, Aventurine glanced over to see Jade standing at the shelves, holding a premade bouquet of carnations and an inquisitive look on her face. There was something this woman wanted to say, no doubt about it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, child,” Jade hummed lightly as she gently slid the bouquet into the shelf. “You’re picking up a little more. But, do be careful with the smile. Some people know when it’s insincere. And insincerity isn’t good for business.”

There it was.

Aventurine gave a flat mutter before the front door’s bell rang again.

— 5 —

“Excuse me.”

A frantic tap on his shoulders. Aventurine pulled down his headphones to look at the old woman, only to realize it wasn’t just her but all the other people in the train car were staring at him with guitars playing loudly from somewhere.

“Oh—” Aventurine stammered out, wearily retrieving his phone to realize it was him. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

The music quickly turned off, leaving the train car into the busy silence again. The old woman gave him a nervous smile and went back to her business.

Aventurine shoved his phone into his pocket and crossed his arms tightly, staring down at the window outside as sweat and prickles came down his neck.

The headphones didn’t go back on his head for the rest of the ride.

— 6 —

AVENTURINE: Hey, sorry. My landlord’s kicking me out, so I wanted to ask if I can crash at your place until I find a new one.

TOPAZ: Yeah, that’s fine. The garage’s empty if you want to move your stuff in there.

AVENTURINE: Thanks.

— 7 —

Stelle grinned, clearly excited as she gestured his attention towards a tall figure standing next to them, a composed and stoic expression on his face that looked like he was either uninterested or strictly neutral.

“This is Veritas Ratio. He’s one of the smartest people on campus I know, and that says a lot.” Stelle grinned before gesturing at Aventurine. “Ratio, this is Aventurine. He’s one of the few people I know with the craziest RNG in video games.”

That was quite a way with an introduction—he doubted the guy even played video games to understand what that meant. Regardless, Aventurine presented a smile and extended his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Veritas Ratio.”

He noted the sharp gaze, the perfectly composed posture, the completely unmoving face that only shifted slightly in a way he could tell the guy was assessing him. Ah, well, Aventurine couldn’t blame him for that if he was doing it too.

Fortunately, the guy looked like he knew when to accept handshakes. “Likewise.”

— 8 —

The evening settled in a bitter heat as Aventurine stood on the edge of the curb, having a staredown with the red crosswalk light across the street. Blurs of cars rushed past him, offering a semblance of wind to comfort Aventurine, who decided it was a good idea to wear a jacket today.

His fingers fidgeted in his pockets, uncomfortable from the bandages that he wrapped a bit too tight after trying to dethorn some roses for some client’s bouquet earlier. Funny how that worked, considering the pictures the client flaunted showed their date wearing blue flowers.

Perhaps it would’ve been nice if the client listened to him. It would’ve saved him the time, and blood, from cutting up roses that were heading for the trash after.

With a soft exhale, his foot shifted—closer and closer to the edge until the tip of his foot was hovering above the street. He was sweating from the hood on his head, and the rumbles of cars vibrated in his empty ears as he looked down the direction of traffic.

“Yes, I’ll send the report later tonight. Bye.”

A phone call from behind him. It was purely out of instinctual curiosity to look behind him and see someone coming over to stand a good distance away from him and wait for the crosswalk.

Oh, it’s that guy from earlier.

An empty exhale escaped Aventurine as he faced forward once again, watching the red light glow brighter and brighter. There wasn’t any mutual acquaintances around, and Aventurine doubted the guy remembered him. If he did, that would be impressive—considering their interaction lasted for only a minute before the guy left.

Aventurine didn’t really like small talks anyways. Doubted the guy did either. Saved them both the trouble.

It was getting hotter. The jacket rubbed against his skin. Sweat poured down his back. The foot rocked on the edge of the curb. The cars’ screeching got louder.

“Hello.” Aventurine smiled, prodding the man to lower his phone and flick his head over. “You’re Stelle’s friend, right?”

The man didn’t waver from its stoicism, despite the intrusion. “We are acquaintances, yes.” He replied flatly with a brief pause—which Aventurine could tell was taking a moment to scan him, and probably judge his choice in wearing a jacket on a hot day. “Aventurine, correct?”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember.”

“It’s not that hard when you stand out from the crowd.”

“Woah, a compliment?”

An unimpressed look. “Flashy appearances aren’t always good,” then gestured at the earrings.

Aventurine laughed slightly, touching his own earrings before humming. Fortunately, there’s not much that could offend him personally. “Fair enough. Although, I’d like to argue that there are much, much flashier people than me.”

The man let out a sigh of disbelief, shaking his head before straightening his posture and focusing at the red light ahead. “Do as you will, as long as you’re not making your life any harder.”

“And how would I make my life any harder?”

“You tell me. You’re the one smiling like you’re serving a customer and thinking about crossing the street on a red light a few moments ago.”

Aventurine faltered.

“Huh?”

“You heard what I said.”

What a man. Stoic, cold, blunt, robotic, moody, gloomy.

Aventurine scoffed and raised a brow. “You really do talk like how you look.”

The man narrowed his eyes at the comment, and Aventurine turned around and crossed his arms to lean against the traffic light pole. “I was just thinking about whether or not I wanted to save 10 seconds of my life and cross the street or wait for this broken light to turn green.”

“Would you rather wait for a minute or risk the rest of your lifetime to get to wherever 10 seconds early?”

“Whichever chicken or egg comes first, I guess.”

“Thats—” A brief cut, followed by a disappointing sigh. For some reason, the reaction amused Aventurine a tad that he looked back to see the man with an annoyed face. “You’re just as frustrating as you look.”

How funny. Genuinely.

Aventurine broke out a little laugh before he tilted his head backwards to give the man a lopsided grin. “For a guy like you, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Please don’t.”

— 9 —

“What are you doing here?”

The man asked, lowering the book as Aventurine hovered over from behind his cafe chair—who gave a mocking inquisitive expression with a thumb on his chin.

“Ah, very interesting philosophical book you have going on here. Are these from the wise words of Socrates?” Aventurine asked, feigning a deep octave before looking over to see the man giving an unamused stare like he was a dead fish. Then, he decided to answer the inquiry.

“I saw you sitting here and thought to say hi.”

The man scoffed, turning his head back to his book. “If you don’t have anything important to say, you’re free to leave now.”

Funny.

— 10 —

“What are you studying?”

“Homework,” said the man before he looked at Aventurine from the other side of the cafe table with furrowed brows. “You should be doing yours too.”

Aventurine waved a hand dismissively as he tapped on his phone screen. Another good pull on the gacha once again. “I’ll do it later.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

What was he doing here? Good question.

Aventurine placed the phone down and gave a man a sheepish shrug. “Keeping you company?”

The man shook his head and sighed in disbelief. “Is that what your other visits were as well?”

Were they? Probably.

Aventurine didn’t really know it himself—the exact reason why every time he saw the man sitting somewhere alone, the first thing was to bother him. Regardless, he feigned a smile.

“I’m glad you’re catching up, genius.”

“It would do you some good if you did something productive instead of playing games.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I like working under pressure.”

“And has that been going well for you?”

“Well, kind of. Ish?”

A heavy sigh. Then, the man extended his hand. “Give me your phone.” As Aventurine raised a brow, the man gestured impatiently. “I’m giving you my number.”

“Oh, woah,” Aventurine, genuinely surprised, tilted his head. “I didn’t know you were that bold. You’ve taken that much liking to me?”

The man scoffed. “Don’t be crass. It’s more convenient to schedule productive sessions over the phone than you randomly popping out of nowhere.”

Aventurine rolled his eyes and placed the phone in the man’s hand.

— 11 —

Aventurine pressed his head against the wooden table, listening to the guitars in his ears that overlapped with the busy noises of the library as his arms blocked off the overhead lights.

The table was cold and his back was aching from the uncomfortable position he was sitting in. He tried to keep his eyes closed, but apparently the exhaustion of last night’s all-nighter wasn’t enough to make him pass out.

That Numby trotter sleeping on top of him last night didn’t help either.

Aventurine groaned, rubbing his face before a chime came through his earbuds, followed by an automated voice.

One new message.

— 12 —

“I have a room.”

His pen nearly fell onto the table when Aventurine froze up and stopped writing in his homework. Was he hearing things or—

The man across from him only gave a neutral stare like he was anticipating an answer and as if he didn’t say anything weird at all. Or maybe it wasn’t weird, and he was asking a quiz question.

“What?”

“You said you’re looking for a new place, right?”

Oh, he was not hearing things.

“Yeah,” Aventurine drawled out skeptically. “Don’t you live alone in a 1-bedroom apartment?”

“It’s—” The man paused. “There can be some changes to it.”

Aventurine squinted, stared, but before he could ask any further questions, the man interrupted. “Do you want to or no?”

As much as he wanted to ask the man why he was offering up a space in his apartment, Aventurine could tell the man didn’t want him to bombard him with more questions.

But, the idea of living with someone he knew was appealing. Especially with a guy like the one in front of him.

In his own way, Aventurine answered with a lopsided smile.

“I guess you really want me to annoy you that much, huh?”

— 13 —

“Why do you have so many pillows?”

“Psh,” Aventurine scoffed, tilting his head at the man who was standing next to him with a long pillow in hand as they witnessed the heavy nest of pillows that laid on the bed. “With all of that, it’s like sleeping on clouds. You should try it out sometimes.”

The man furrowed his brow, rolling his eyes before placing the long pillow onto the bed carefully. “Is that all of the boxes?”

“Just the kitchen stuff, and that’s it.”

“We should unpack it now before dinner.”

“Sounds good,” Aventurine grinned. “Thanks. What would I do without you, Veritas Ratio?” In exchange, Ratio narrowed his eyes, unamused by his exaggerated drawl. “What? Rolls off the tongue. Don’t you think so?”

“You should stop thinking and start moving.”

Aventurine sighed as he watched Ratio leave the room before he turned to the long pillow that laid neatly across his bed.

Veritas Ratio was a good name.

— 14 —

Aventurine nearly jolted, his eyes snapping open to the dark ceiling. He shakily gasped, trying to relax his racing heart that still felt like he was plummeting down a 12-story skyscraper.

Another shaky breath. He blindly searched and pulled the long pillow closer before burying his face into it.

Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep.

— 15 —

The sound of footsteps stirred him up, and Aventurine peeled his eyes open to see Ratio had entered the apartment. With a loud yawn, Aventurine stretched his body and sat up on the couch, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. “Hi.”

“Were you taking a nap?”

“Mmhm.”

“Wouldn’t a bed be more comfortable than a couch? You sleep here more than in your own room.”

“It’s a good couch.”

Ratio raised a brow, then turned to set aside his shoes. “Bring some more pillows so you don’t get uncomfortable.”

“Sure,” Aventurine hummed before he pulled his legs to empty up the space when he saw Ratio take out a book. “Do you wanna sit down?”

“Are you going back to sleep?”

“Probably not.”

Ratio gave a glance before he moved to occupy the space beside Aventurine. Aventurine smiled, laid back down, curled his legs up, and pulled out his phone. Ratio didn’t say anything and neither did he.

Aventurine eventually fell asleep to the sound of pages turning.

— 16 —

“There’s so much snow on the floor.”

“I wonder who’s bright idea was it to throw both of us onto the snow outside earlier.”

“You looked like you were enjoying it too, y’know. You were all smiley about it. Look, you’re smiling right now.”

“Hurry up and change before you get sick.”

“Hold on, I have to get a picture of you like this first.”

“Hey!”

— 17 —

The hug was warm. Their legs tangled underneath the blanket as they laid on the couch. Aventurine was staring up at Ratio’s face, slightly red from the drunkness since after all, the man had chugged however many beer cans.

Funny how fast someone like Ratio could fall asleep, more or less a drunk one. He’d have to remember to make something for Ratio in the morning before the massive hangover killed Ratio.

Hungover Ratio. Huh. Funny thing to think about.

A lazy smile spread across Aventurine’s face as he closed his eyes and tucked into Ratio’s arms further.

It was like sitting in front of a fireplace.

— 18 —

Aventurine hitched his breath, his back resting on the edge of the desk as he tipped his head into Ratio’s hand that held his cheek. Either he was leaning closer, or Ratio was—whichever one it was—but it was close.

Close enough until he felt their breaths brushing against his skin.

The quiet anticipation made his heart race and his stomach flutter, and he felt his body melting underneath the red-golden eyes that gazed at him. Was this what nervousness was? Excitement? Hopefulness?

For a moment, Aventurine allowed himself to believe.

— 19 —

say

something

Aventurine

Was that okay? Was he allowed to?

stay

awake

don’t

go

c’mon

wake

up

Did Ratio hear it? Maybe he didn’t say it loud enough.

please say something

— 20 —

Can I say it one more time?

Chapter Text

red spider lilies

19.

“Hey, Ratio.”

“What is it?”

“Isn’t the idea of love

scary for you?”

(The weight in his arms. The stillness of the body.

Relaxed,

slacked fingers that didn’t twitch.

The dull, dull purple-blues that refused to

move.)

“When you’re in love with someone,

you’re basically putting yourself in the hands of this person.”

(Desperately sweeping his fingers into his mouth, trying to scrape out as much as he could.

But, the colors of red kept on falling down

and down

down

down

and down and down and downanddownanddownand—)

“Then, there’s the what-ifs,

the emotions,

the changes.

Then,

the whole trusting and being completely vulnerable to them.”

(Compressing his chest—a hundred per minute, thirty per set, breathing into his mouth twice,

only for there to be nothing nothing nothing

despite how long Ratio had been doing it for,

or how many times he breathed into his mouth,

or how much he compressed and begged and tried

and tried and tried and tried only for there to be nothing nothing nothing except for nothing but red and blood and roses and screams and silences and—)

“And then, after you dedicate your everything to them,

something wrong happens,

someone gets hurt,

and then,”

(Dragged to his feet. Hands forcefully yanked away by something, someone, while his body tried tried tried to scream,

to protest,

to run back and push through the swarm of uniforms and blares of instruction to run back to him and

make sure that he—

“He’s alive, right?

Is he alive?

He’s not—

please tell me he’s not—”)

“you lose them forever.”

(“...taking…

hospital…

don’t follow…

ambulance…

emergency…

come

couple

hours…”)

How scary is that?

red geraniums

20.

— 1 —

Blonde strands sprawled messily on the silk pillow.

Aventurine’s face buried into Ratio’s chest—muffling the slow, exhausted breaths.

(Those sounds were ambient enough to ring in his ears like a soft lullaby

that Ratio had to rub a finger on Aventurine’s shoulder

to stay awake for as long as he could—

at least until he made sure Aventurine

fell asleep.)

It was cold.

Dark.

Quiet.

Surrounded by furniture.

A kitchen.

A living room.

An untouched TV.

An empty couch.

(where was he?)

How did he get home in the first place?

The only thing he was aware of was his phone pressing against his ear, a dead phone and house keys in the other hand, and that he stood inside the apartment, staring out at the shrouds of shadows that stared back at him. Inquisitive.

Observing.

Listening.

Watching.

Watching

as the keys fall to the ground with a clatter.

Watching

as the kitchen sink turn on.

Watching

as his numb, numb hands shake underneath the stream

(dyed with a

dull, dull shade of

red.)

His eyes focused, unfocused

focused

on the pieces of the petals that swirled and spun around in the sink,

dancing underneath the waterfall that tried tried tried to force it down the drain—only for the petals to mock at its fruitless attempts, at Ratio’s attempts to think,

to wash the blood off, to inhale and exhale and calm down and

think and

ignore that painful painful ringing in his ears when he looked up from the sink, glancing at the shroud of shadow dancing before him—as if somewhere in there,

a head would turn, and some sort of voice would ask him if Ratio was having a terrible terrible nightmare, and then those shiny purple-blues would gleam at him with a relaxed, lazy expression like how he always did and—

(Those half-lidded eyes

stared at him.

Frozen.

Cold.

Dull.

Pale.

Bloodied.

Unresponsive unconscious unmoving gone gone gone gonegonegoneGonegoneGonegone.

gone?)

— he’s still alive —

Ratio’s throat shuddered violently

as his body slid to the floor.

Gasping.

Shaking.

His face buried into these poorly-cleaned hands

as the smell of nothing but Aventurine’s

blood and roses

stuck to his clothes and tangled all over him—

(tangled all over the two phones—one dead one alive—that laid on the ground,

all over the house keys watching him)

all over the water that kept on running and running

(all over Aventurine who laid there and stared at him with nothing nothing nothing coming out of his mouth because he was so

cold

so quiet

and he wouldn’t talk or blink or move or

breathe.)

— calm down —

is it cold?

is it quiet?

The world asked him through the voice of the cold air in his room, assaulting his chill-ridden body

as Ratio tore his coat off of him,

as the shivers violently shook him from the inside

as the coat

helplessly collapsed to the ground, at his feet

followed by the rest of the clothes that hung inside his closet

that

screamed with a clatter.

— calm down —

His fingers couldn’t grasp for a clean shirt within the rubble,

these hands trying to grab onto something, yet

held onto nothing and

(held onto him,

onto Aventurine)

these hands, trying to grab onto something

(and on his chest,

he was pushing and pushingandpushing and pushingand

pushingandbeggingand begging and begging and beggingandbegging

andbeggingand)

— he’s alive —

Unresponsive.

Unconscious.

No words.

No reactions.

No blinks. No twitches.

No smiles.

No laughs no tears no coughs no cries no trembling no breaths no movement

nothing nothing nothingNOTHINGNOTHINGNOTHING(?)

— he’s alive —

But, Aventurine was still alive.

He was still alive.

He had to be alive.

They were in this room. In this apartment.

Aventurine was still talking

He was still moving.

He was still breathing.

He was still talking and crying and

he was still Here.

and

he

— he’s alive —

He should’ve noticed.

— he’s alive —

“What’s your favorite flower?

You never told me what they were.”

What about roses?

He should’ve noticed.

— 2 —

In his arms, he shuffled inside.

Blonde strands sprawled messily on the silk pillow as Aventurine’s face buried into his chest, muffling the slow, exhausted breaths.

Those sounds were ambient enough to be considered a lullaby

that Ratio rubbed a finger on his shoulder to stay awake for as long as he could—at least until he made sure Aventurine fell

asleep

What about roses?

That question wasn’t asked out of curiosity.

What about roses?

It was never a simple curiosity.

What about roses?

He should’ve noticed.

Ratio didn’t have a favorite flower.

But, Aventurine grew roses.

(he was going to wait

until Aventurine

picked

one)

He should’ve noticed.

Did that mean it was someone else?

Was Aventurine in love with someone else?

(did that mean that Aventurine wasn’t cured after all?)

— he’s alive —

He should’ve noticed.

— calm down —

Who?

Who was it?

(why didn’t he know who he was in love with?)

He should’ve noticed.

— calm down —

Why didn’t he know that Aventurine was in love in the first place?

— calm down —

Why

after almost living with him for a year,

he didn’t know anything about him?

— he’salive—

He should’ve noticed.

As he stood in his room,

where the petals gazed,

laying on Aventurine’s bedroom floor,

inside the trash can,

on the bed,

amongst the blood smeared all over the sheets,

within Aventurine’s laundry that scattered,

and the petals watched

as Ratio stood frozen in the middle of his room,

in the middle of it all.

— calm down —

(Aventurine’s mouth opened)

(But, he didn’t hear a single word.)

He should’ve noticed.

— calm down —

Did Aventurine say something?

What did Aventurine say?

— calm down —

What did Aventurine say?

— calmdowncalmdowncalmdown —

whatdidAventurinesay?

Think.

think

think think think

— calmdownCALMDOWNcalmDOWN —

Think think think THINKTHINKTHINKTHINKTHINKTHINK

WHATDIDHESAYWHATDIDHESAYWHATDIDHESAY

HESHOULD’VENOTICEDHESHOULD’VE—

— calmdowncalmdownCALMDOWNCALMDOWNCALMDOWNCALM —

WHYCOULDN’T HEREMEMBER WHATHESAID

WHYCOULDN’T HEHEAR ANYTHINGEARLIER

— HE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’SALIVE —

He should’ve noticed.

— HE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’SALIVE —

Roses hugged his legs,

his feet,

his hands,

watching as Ratio kneeled in the pile of stained laundry.

(Screaming.)

Trying to remember the smell of scented detergent.

(Aching.)

Trying to remember the usual shampoo he used.

(crying)

Anything else

in the midst of the scent of dried iron and flowers.

(grasping)

burying his face within the clothes he held, and

(Praying)

that he was going to hear the familiar hum of a soundtrack in his ears,

that he was going to find the purple-blues gazing at him with the

same same same wide smile

telling him that whatever happened

was all just

a lucid nightmare.

But,

Nothing did anything.

(you

didn’t

do

…)

— HE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’SALIVEHE’S —

“I’m just trying to figure out your favorite flower for fun.

Are you sure it’s not roses?”

“Why would it be roses?”

(you didn’t

do

…)

“Are you sure it’s not roses?”

grasping

hugging

hoping praying

(you didn’t

do

…)

“Are you sure it’s not roses?”

begging crying screaming wailing sobbing

until these

poorly-cleaned hands

were choking Aventurine’s clothes,

his desperation

violently suffocating the garden of

blood-stained clothes and flowers within

his fingers.

because that was all he could do.

“Are you sure it’s not roses?”

(you

didn’t

do)

Are you sure it’s not roses?

Why would it be roses?

Nothing did anything.

(BECAUSEYOUCOULDN’TDOANYTHING)

red cyclamen

21.

— 3 —

Carefully, Ratio outstretched the arm Aventurine was laying on,

trying not to wake the latter up as his drunk, sluggish fingers typed the fourth email on his phone.

Hello Professor,

Aventurine and I won’t be able to attend lecture today due to a cold. Will we be able to make up any necessary class work?

Ratio typed slowly,

listening to Aventurine’s soft breaths,

ignoring the way his arm fell asleep underneath Aventurine’s head.

It was cold.

It was quiet.

A single cell didn’t move. Didn’t react.

The train cradled. Hummed.

(Suffocated him with the hands of

stale

dry air.)

The train talked.

Chattered.

Whispered.

Louder and louder—buzzing incomprehensible nothing in his ears. Laughing. Crying. Giggling. The other passenger stood at the reflection,

mimicking his face, posture. The ways his eyes focused,

unfocused

focused

Ratio couldn’t see what the face was.

What it looked like.

Too dark.

Too empty.

Toocold

tooquiet

Arriving in one minute.

— 4 —

“Look.”

A rubber duck gently pushed itself into Ratio’s cheek when he turned around,

looking down to see Aventurine beside him with a teasing expression.

“Happy early birthday.”

Please watch your step.

Footsteps barely followed behind him as Ratio ran,

and ran,

and ran and ran and ran,

up the stairs

out the station,

running

running running running

running running

running

(running)

— 5 —

In the middle of the grocery store,

Ratio leaned over Aventurine’s shoulder, holding a box of seasoning as Aventurine held up the phone for both of them,

reading through the ingredients for the spicy stew.

“So, we need to get this, and that… and that one, which should be…”

(Except Ratio could hardly focus,

flickering over to glance at the diamond shapes within the vibrant

purple

blues.)

The cold ripped against him—screaming in his ears.

Laughing. Crying.

Begging running praying hoping burning (his lungs) tearing (his skin) as he ran

and ran

and ranandranandranandRANANDRAN AND

THIS WAY

THAT WAY

THIS STREET

CORNER

— 6 —

At some point, Ratio felt Aventurine’s feet poking at his leg,

making him look over to see Aventurine sleep uncomfortably on the end of the cough with a lit phone in hand.

Carefully, Ratio pulled the phone out of Aventurine’s hand,

tucked a strand of hair behind his ear,

then allowed the curled legs to lay themselves on top of his lap.

This Way

That Way

HERE

There

running

Running

RUNNING RUNNING

PRAY HOPE BEG CRY LIVE BREATHE BURN MOVE TALK LIVE RUN MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE MOVE

GREEN

YELLOW

FIVE

FOUR

THREE

TWO

ONE

RED

REDREDREDREDRED

— 7 —

He felt Aventurine lay on his shoulder

as they both sunk in the comforts of their couch.

If you ever find someone,

you better tell me.

Ratio wanted to ask what that meant,

but Aventurine

fell

asleep.

SCREECH

Something nearly knocked the wind out of his lungs; Ratio’s hands pushed against the hood of a car. His body near collapsed to the street below.

Snapped over to the red crosswalk light.

Turned to see a bewildered driver behind the dirty windshield.

There was a yell.

Shout.

Curse?

The person’s mouth moved vigorously,

but Ratio

couldn’t make out the words.

tick

tick

tick

An apology uttered out before he pulled away from the car—the crosswalk shining green as he ran,

and ran,

and ran and ran and ran,

the cold ripping at him,

laughing,

crying,

screaming,

sobbing

and he ran,

ran

ran

ran

praying to the universe

that it wasn’t too late

that this was all a dream

that there was still time

and he ran,

ran,

ran,

ran

because

red bleeding heart

22.

The universe was everything that existed.

The stars. Planets. Galaxies.

Life.

Light.

Matter.

It was the cosmos that contained all existing matter and space.

That was the meaning of the universe.

But, what he figured Aventurine was actually referring to that day was the meaning of life.

Depending how you looked at it, there could either be a meaning,

or there could be no meaning.

“My name is Veritas Ratio.

I’m here for Aventurine.

I’m his roommate, and he’s—

he’s in the ER, and—”

There wasn’t a given purpose upon birth.

Everyone started off at a blank slate. And slowly, as life went on, the individual would build who they were based on the decisions they made, or the experiences they’ve gone through.

“He has the disease, it’s

it’s the Hanahaki disease, the

the one with the flowers—

He

HE was vomiting roses

and blood

and he—

he’s—”

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

In some perspective, the meaning of life was

existence.

“I’m sorry.

He’s not accepting any visitors right now.

Please wait at the lobby and

we’ll let you know as soon as possible when we can

allow you in.”

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

In other perspectives, there could be a why for a person’s existence. Whether it was to accomplish a specific goal. To find something in life. To find

someone to live for.

“Do you know if he’s going to be fine?

Is he okay?

He’s not…”

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

(Cold.)

(Pale.)

(Unmoving.)

The meaning of life could merely be

to be alive.

“We’ll

do our best to make sure he

survives.”

Or,

there could be no meaning at all.

— 8 —

“What would I do without you, Veritas Ratio?”

That was the first time he heard Aventurine spoke his full name

in that way.

That was why he nearly froze on the spot,

surprised by the way it made his own conscious react so,

and he turned to see Aventurine shooting him a playful grin.

“Rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?”

In the end, everyone would all die regardless of meaning. Everyone would all die regardless of what they were, what they did, what they accomplished, or what life they lived. There was no such thing as immortality in this universe, no matter how hard anyone tried.

(Survive was a word when a person was still alive,

which mean that Aventurine was still alive,

still Here,

and that he was

going to be okay.