Chapter Text
Flower vomiting disease. A disease in which one who suffers from unrequited love dies from flowers growing inside their lungs. They block the airways, causing the victim to die from asphyxiation. It's completely fictional, only seen in literature, because obviously flowers wouldn't be able to grow inside a human body...
So why, oh why, was he, Naib Subedar, vomiting marigolds into his bathroom sink?
This was unreal. A dream? No, he felt the flowers closing his airway, he felt the pain every time another bud was forced out of his mouth. He looked up into the mirror, the reflection of a stranger with sickly skin and sunken eyes reflecting back at him. Oh, no, that was him. Dark circles, his hair strewn about across his cheeks. He put a hand to his face to confirm it was, indeed, his reflection, and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and sighing, the tickle in his throat not really going away.
This had been going on for a while now, at least, his breathing issues. The flowers started just a few days ago. It had forced him to quit boxing, as he just didn't have the strength to do it anymore. He turned on the faucet, twisting it all the way to "hot", the handle squeaking quietly as if protesting about the temperature. He ran his hands under the water, dipping his head closer to the sink to wash his face. He looked at the mirror, steam already having fogged it up. He sighed, raising a hand to wipe away the condensation, revealing his face to him once more.
Still looked like shit.
He shook his head, turning off the faucet and heading back to his bedroom, pausing for a moment to stare at the discarded red duffel bag in the corner of the room, hidden away in the shadows. Memories, good and bad, resurfaced in his mind.
"Fuck." He muttered to himself, clenching his fist so hard that half moons appeared on his palm. It was all because of this stupid disease. All because of his stupid feelings. All because of—
—All because of him.
If he didn't have feelings for him, if he didn't have such high hopes... He would still be the boxing champion of Oletus.
He wouldn't be suffering from a broken heart. Because it hurts. It hurts so much. He hated how pathetic it made him. An idiot blinded by love for his best friend, who didn't even love him back.
He flopped onto his bed, ready to just sleep the day away. He was tired from coughing up stupid flowers all day, and it's not like he had anything planned.
His phone chimed once, signalling a text message had been sent to him. He debated on even opening his phone, but curiosity got the better of him. Against his better judgement, he grabbed his phone and turned on the screen.
His heart dropped into his stomach when he saw the name. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, huh.
norton: heyyyyy naiby are you free
Naib glared at the contact name. Norton Campbell, baseball star, the best pitcher on their team. The current object of his affections. He hates him, but... He doesn't. He wished he could stop loving him, his stupid charming smile, the way he gets excited when he sees his friends, the funny pout when he can't figure out the answer to a question during study group sessions.
Oh how he so desperately wanted to kiss his stupid mouth and wrap his arms around him to call him his.
But he can't.
subedar.: what the fuck do you want im sleeping
norton: at this hour?? damn shawty okay
subedar.: what
subedar.: do
subedar.: you
subedar.: want
norton: yikes okay no need to be so cold
norton: you've been so mean to me lately
norton: :(
subedar.: norton carlos campbell.
norton: omg the full name ok ok
norton: I wanna look good for my date with victor can you help me with an outfit
Naib nearly threw his phone across the room. What the fuck? He had the audacity to ask him? ... Well, it's not like he actually told him he had feelings for him... So he wouldn't know. He sighed and sent a single response before flipping over and closing his eyes, ignoring the barrage of messages that came after.
subedar.: figure it out yourself.
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When he woke up again it was already dark. How long had he been sleeping? He turned over and reached for his phone, and then deciding that maybe it wasn't a good idea. Instead, he got up and walked over to his laptop, opening it and pressing the power button to turn it on.
The screen brightened his dark room, causing him to grimace for a moment before his eyes adjusted to the bright light emanating from the screen. 11:27pm. He had slept for approximately six hours. Damn. He was about to just go back to bed when his stomach growled, and he decided he should probably eat something.
He gently shut the laptop, instinctively turning to grab his phone to take with him. He hesitated. Then turned and left his bedroom without it. He didn't want to see Norton's name right now, or whatever he sent to him after.
He wonders if he would've felt better if he had confessed that day, instead of just kept it secret. Maybe then he wouldn't be sick, wouldn't have to feel his heart twist and tear every time he saw him. Even if he was rejected, he would have at least been able to move on with his life.
He sighed, shaking his head. How ridiculous. Who was to know he wouldn't have gotten sick? He grabbed a small pot and put it in the kitchen sink, turning on the tap and stood there, tapping his fingers on the counter while waiting for it to fill up.
It was nearly half full when he heard a loud crash, jumping at the sudden noise. He switched the tap off, and looked over to the window looking out towards his backyard. The back light had turned on, signaling movement. Did a wild animal knock over his garbage can? He frowned, peeking out his window, but seeing nothing.
Damn... Even if it was just a wild animal, he should probably clean up the garbage if it had fallen over. And if it wasn't well...
... Maybe he should take the broom out with him.
Naib timidly slid open the glass door, then the screen door, and peeked his head out to the left, looking towards the trash bin to see what had happened. The back light on, showing that the bin had indeed tipped over, trash strewn around. He sighed, lowering the broom and heading over towards the mess on the ground.
He knelt down, reaching towards the trash when he heard a rustling. He looked around, unable to see anything that could have made that sound, and went back to picking up trash. There was another rustle. He frowned, looking at the garbage can and noticing some of the garbage moving. Something was inside it. He narrowed his eyes, reaching towards the bin... when suddenly a small, white thing burst out of the garbage and flung itself at him. He shrieked, falling backwards onto his butt as the thing jumped onto him. It stank, obviously, as it had ended up ripping open one of the trash bags. He opened his eyes and looked at the thing. It was a little white fox, staring at him with large, round, blue eyes. He stared back.
"... Hey little guy..." He said, hesitantly, "why are you in my garbage can?"
The fox tilted it's head as if to reply, and that's when he noticed a small injury on it's front left paw, pink staining it. "Oh, that's going to get infected. Come here." The fox, almost as if it understood, curled up on his chest. Naib stared for a second before he wrapped his arms around the animal and picked it up. It was... so light. So small. He looked over at the trash bin and sighed. He'll clean this up tomorrow.
He headed up the stairs and back into the bathroom, gently setting the fox into his bathtub. It whined when he turned on the water, disliking the sudden feeling of wetness on it's paws.
"Yeah, yeah, okay, you stink though." Naib said, and the fox tilted it's head and stared up at him again. What the fuck? It was almost as if it was pouting. Are animals usually this emotional?
Naib gagged at the smell, then sniffed the collar of his shirt. "Ugh. I need a shower too." He mutters, realizing the fox got the scent of trash on him as well. He turned his attention back to the fox.
"Okay, let's clean up your wound..."
The sound of running water, the feeling of soap inbetween his fingers. It was suffocating, for some reason. "My name is Naib." He absentmindedly said to the fox, to keep himself from being strangled by the silence. The fox tilted it's head in acknowledgement. "You're gonna have to stay with me for a while, buddy. Your injury looks kind of bad." He frowned and held up the paw, which he had gently washed, cleaning around the wound with soap. The fox squeaked and tried to yank it's paw back.
"I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I won't do it again, promise." He apologized. The fox made a "hrrumph" noise, seemingly accepting his apology. Naib rinsed it all over and then turned off the water, grabbing a towel to wipe the animal off, and then blowing it dry with his blow dryer on the bathroom counter. He opened the medicine cabinet, finding the gauze, but before he could even reach for it, a cough erupted from his throat.
It got worse and worse, eventually forcing him to choke up the flowers. Those damned things were back again. This time, it was the petals of an amaryllis, scattering across the counter top. The fox was startled by the sudden fit, watching Naib with concern and curiosity.
After what felt like eternity, he finally heaved a few breaths and could breathe properly again. He glared at the petals. Red, big, like the colour of his previous uniform. Fuck that. He sighed, looking at the fox, who was now staring at him again.
"That scared you, didn't it... I'm sorry." He said, giving it a gentle pat. The fox leaned into it. He smiled, softly. "At least you like me back." He mumbled, rubbing his thumb over the animal's head. He picked up the gauze, tape and a pair of scissors, and began to gently wrap the gauze around the fox's injured paw. He made a mental note to take it to a vet tomorrow.
"There you go." Naib picked up the fox when he finished, and headed to his room. He gently set it on the ground, and walked out to the closet in the hallway to grab a large pillow, setting it on the floor next to his bed. "This is your bed for now." He said, and the fox just looked at him as if he insulted it's mother. The ex-boxer raised an eyebrow.
"What? It's a nice pillow. It's soft and really big! You'll like it!" This seemed to convince it (he thinks), and it cautiously patted the pillow before crawling right onto it, curling up into a little ball on the pillow. Naib chuckled a little bit, watching the fox get comfortable.
"Damn. Oh— I need a shower..."
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When he returned, the fox had fallen, fast asleep burying it's snout into the pillow.
It seemed very comfortable around Naib, almost like they had been together for much longer. Naib wasn't sure why, but that was okay, he thinks. At least this way it would be easier to watch and manage it's injured foot.
He shuffled over to his bed and slipped under his covers, wanting to just close his eyes and sleep. He could eat something in the morning, since he wasn't hungry anymore. Ah, but, maybe he should check his phone before he passes out. He grabbed it from the table and powered it on. As he had expected, Norton had texted him a bunch after he sent his response. He sighed.
norton: naib what I thought we were bros :(
norton: ok do you think this looks okay
norton: [attachment]
norton: heyy
norton: damn youre probably asleep
norton: sleepy boy
norton: well I'll tell you how my date goes when I see you :)
He scoffed, instantly turning his phone off and putting it screen down on the bedside table, rolling over to face the wall, his mood sour again. He should have expected that.
"Keep it to yourself, you fucking asshole." He mumbled, more to himself than to Norton, his eyes slowly fluttering closed as thoughts swirled in his head.
He was so damn tired. He wished he could just sleep forever. It would be better than waking up to the harsh reality of the world, where he had to suffer every single time he saw his friend (could he even still call him that?), who literally would only talk about his boyfriend during their time together. He was sick of it. So, Naib slowly began to distance himself. Unfortunately, his friend group included the damn baseball star, so he had to see him whether or not he wanted to anyway.
His chest aches. It hurts so much. He felt another bud pushing up his throat, and he forced himself to cough it out. It was a cluster of small white daisies this time. He didn't even bother to clean it up.