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California didn't know what was wrong at first. He was coughing, but there were no fires, and he wasn't sick. He chalked it up to allergies, and went on with his life. Then his lungs started to hurt, like something was squeezing them. Still wasn't a wildfire; there was no smoke. It hurt to breathe, like something was stabbing him.
Then there were droplets of blood, splattered on the inside of his elbow every time he coughed. Maybe he was sick. Take some medicine, get some rest. It'll bypass soon enough.
Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. But to understand the future, we need to look at the past. Back to an easier, simpler time. A time when California didn't have these problems.
He still had a problem, though. That problem came with a cowboy hat, a Southern accent, and a disgusting view on everything.
His problem's name was Texas. Oh, how California loathed him. Everything that came out of his mouth made California want to smack him. It took a lot of self restraint to not yell at him every single time he spoke.
"I just don't get it," California ran his fingers through his own hair, looking at the man across from him. "Why would you do that?"
"'Cause it's a free country, Safe Space," venom laced the words spoken in a Southern accent, causing the Western state to flinch.
"You're removing the 'free' from 'free country'," California did air quotes as he spoke. "Texas, this isn't right," he really was trying his best to stay calm. He didn't want to get into a heated argument today. He couldn't handle it; he had a bunch of other bullshit to deal with. Texas' bigoted views were at the bottom of his list of problems. Texas, however, didn't seem too happy California was brushing him off easily. He could easily work him up. What was his problem today?
"I'm protectin' the babies."
"Not this argument again..." California slouched into his chair, shaking his head. "If you want to protect the children, make schools safer! Put heavier restrictions on gun laws so a sixteen year old can't walk in and buy one."
"That's infringin' on my rights."
"I'm not doing this today," California got up, coughing into his elbow.
"Are you okay, California?" Gov asked as he watched him with concern.
"I'm fine," he shot one last look at Texas. He could feel the eyes piercing the back of his head as he left the meeting room, closing the door quietly behind him. He didn't usually leave in the midst of a meeting, so of course people were going to stare. He just didn't feel good; he was tired and kind of dizzy. He shook his head.
It's probably nothing, he thought as he went up the stairs to his room. He entered his room, welcoming the comforting and familiar smell of cinnamon and coffee laced with the light scent of blue raspberry that was soaked into his sheets and curtains. He inhaled deeply as he closed the door. This was his safe place.
No meetings, no Florida, no Gov, and especially no Texas.
He shrugged his flannel off, tossing it over the mirror.
If only he hadn't done that and he would see the stems beginning to trail up his abdomen into his chest. He would know what was happening sooner.
The coughs only got worse. The other states would see blood spots on California's lower lip, and sometimes on the bathroom floor or in the sink. That was it, though. No fever, no vomiting, no chills. Nothing that would suggest anything was really wrong with him, so it was brushed off by everyone, even California.
Then it happened.
It was two in the morning. He felt something coming up his throat, so he quickly threw the comforter off his body. He hurried to the bathroom, closing and locking the door. He tried to take in a breath, but it felt as if something was squeezing his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He hovered over the toilet as it came up his throat. It wasn't vomit; it was soft. A few blue petals speckled with blood left his mouth during a coughing fit, landing quietly into the toilet. California stared at them.
That... that wasn't normal. He put his fingers into his mouth, still feeling something in his throat. Resisting the urge to gag, he pulled out another clump of bloody petals. He looked at them, swallowing a lump in his throat. The grip on his lungs subsided, his throat feeling cleared. He slowly stood up, flushing all the petals down the toilet. Besides a small clump. He rinsed them carefully and kept them in a closed fist as he left the bathroom. He quickly went back to his room, placing the petals on his desk as he sat down. He opened his laptop.
Throwing up flower petals.
He hit enter once he typed it into the search bar. He really didn't expect anything to show up. He wanted to believe he had hallucinated and had actually taken a handful of vomit to his room instead.
Except something did show up. He clicked on the first link.
Hanahaki Disease.
He scrolled through the website. It was caused by one-sided love. California scoffed. This couldn't be right. It was a fictional disease, anyways. He looked at the flower petal next to him. No matter how many times he blinked, rubbed his eyes, or stared at it, it stayed a clump of blue petals.
Texas state flower.
He hit enter.
Bluebonnets. He looked at the petals and picked one up, holding it next to the picture he pulled up.
"Well, I'll be damned," he mumbled. Not that he was happy about this revelation. He had repressed the feelings, which he had replaced with hatred and anger. Maybe the flowers represented those repressed feelings trying to come to the surface. Whatever. He took the petals and threw them into the garbage he kept by his desk. He closed his laptop before standing up. He got back into bed, pulling the blanket over himself before rolling onto his side.
It can only be cured if your beloved returns your feelings or you will die.
California laughed dryly, tucking his arm under his head. Not that anybody would miss him, so saying goodbye to anyone wasn't even needed.
"Are you feelin' alright?" Texas leaned on the counter next to him, grabbing a petal off California's shirt. He flicked it aside.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," California replied.
"Cal-"
"Just... drop it, okay? I'm fine."
Texas stared at him, but he dropped it.
In fact, nobody brought it up again until next week during a meeting. California didn't want to go because the bursts were getting longer, but it was mandatory. He coughed into his elbow, trying to swallow back some petals that threatened to come up.
"California," Gov said carefully.
"I'm fine," Cali said bitterly.
"He has Hanahaki disease," Nevada looked at California as the petals finally came out, falling into his hand along with some blood.
"He has what?" Texas asked.
"Hanahaki. He replaced his romantic feelings with anger and hatred. Repressing them made this happen," Nevada gestured at California, who was still spitting out petals.
"I'm fine! Shut up!" California snapped.
"Those are bluebonnets," Florida looked at the petals. "Texas, isn't that your state flower?"
"Well, yeah, but that don't mean anythin'," Texas stared at California, who was looking at his hand. "Ain't no way the human torch likes me."
California felt his heart being squeezed when Texas spoke. He exhaled shakily.
"It's fine," California got up. Everyone watched him go.
"He might die," Nevada continued when he was gone. "If he doesn't even try to confess, this will kill him."
"How can he survive?" Texas found himself worrying for the other. The thought of California dying really did terrify him.
"His beloved has to return his feelings," Nevada shrugged. Everyone exchanged looks.
"He's going to die, isn't he?" Arizona asked softly.
"If you want me to be honest; yeah, he will," Nevada looked at Texas, who looked away. "Just keep the bluebonnets in mind."
Despite everyone's best efforts, nobody could get a confession out of California. At some point, they just gave up. They didn't know what else to do and it sucked for them to watch California basically kill himself.
California didn't think it could get worse, but it did. Weeks passed. Small clumps of petals turned into big clumps, then into the whole flower. He would choke for what felt like forever until he pulled the flower out. Blood stained his sheets and pillows. Some petals would fall to the ground where other states could see them.
Thorns pierced his lungs, stems wrapped around his heart, squeezing it.
Of course he didn't tell Texas about how he felt. Why the hell would he? Texas would laugh in his face. Telling him or not, he would die.
Tears streamed down his face as one hand gripped his chest, his other hand in his mouth, digging the flower out. He wanted to scream out from the pain as thorns scraped along his throat as he pulled it out. He kept tugging at it, but it wouldn't come out.
No, no, no. I'm not ready.
He kept pulled while trying to breathe. He fell to the floor with a loud thud, hitting his head against the wood. His door opened.
"Will you keep it do-" Texas yelled, but cut himself off, looking down. "Oh my God!" He crouched down next to him. "No, no, stay awake, it's okay. I'm here."
Cali's vision was blurry with tears and lack of oxygen. He wanted to close his eyes, take a nap. Blood dribbled down his chin.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell them?!" Texas sounded angry. Why was he angry? California's head spun. Texas patted his cheek. trying to keep him awake. "Goddammit, Cal! Who is it?! I can go get them!"
California looked at him sadly. It took a lot of energy he didn't have to reach up and cup Texas' cheek. If he was going to die here, he might as well let him know.
Texas looked down at him, placing his hand on top of California's, leaning into the touch. The Southern state leaned down and kissed his forehead before California's eyes closed. The flowers protruding out of his mouth wilted and broke off the stem. Texas kept his lips against his forehead, tears brimming his eyes.
"You're such a fucking idiot," Texas whispered, his voice hoarse as he held back sobs. He gently moved California's body, cradling his head in his lap. Tears ran down Texas' face, gently stroking Cali's cheek.
California gasped, his eyes snapping open, sitting up slightly as he coughed. He kept gasping for air, a hand weakly grabbing his chest. The pain was gone and he was alive? No, he swore he was on the brink of death. Texas was above him, crying. California didn't know what was happening, but Texas grabbed him, pulling him into a hug.
"Fuck you, Cal. Fuck you," Texas buried his face into California's neck, full on sobbing now. He held onto the Western state tightly, afraid to let go, fearing this might not be real and he'll wake up with California still lifeless on his lap. California wrapped his arms around Texas, his hand cupping the back of his head.
"I'm alive?" California asked quietly. "Texas..."
"Shut up. I thought I lost you!" Texas pulled back, face blotchy and eyes bloodshot. He grabbed California's face. "You're so fuckin' stupid. Why didn't you tell me?!"
California swallowed hard. "If I told you and you rejected me, it would cause it to spread faster and I'd die sooner... I didn't..."
Texas sighed. He could understand why Cali would keep it to himself. He had no reason to trust Texas enough to confess that to him and know he would be cured. Texas' chest ached.
"'M sorry..."
"Why?"
"I wasn't safe enough for ya to... say anythin'. Or to even come to me and tell me yourself," Texas brushed his thumb over California's cheek bone. At least his face was regaining the beautiful, sun-kissed, golden color that Texas loved.
"It's fine. I was fine."
"Cali, you died in my arms. You were legally dead for ten seconds."
"It's fine."
Texas groaned. "It was not fine. You were not fine. You were bleeding internally and flower petals were coming out of your body. That isn't what I would call fine," he pulled him into another hug. "I care 'bout you, okay? I always have... I just..." he couldn't find the words to describe how he felt.
"Didn't know how to express it without making it obvious you cared?" California asked. Texas nodded slowly. California put his face into Texas' neck. "Yeah, me too."
Texas smiled slightly. He pulled away from the hug. He rested a hand on the side of California's neck, leaning in to kiss him. Cali met him halfway there, placing a hand on his cheek. Their lips molded together easily, heads tilting to the side slightly to make it more comfortable. Any left over petals and stems were definitely gone now.
His unrequited love was now requited and he was still alive. Everything worked out in the end, and it looks like it always will.