Nature was always something Josie Saltzman admired. She loved the peace that could be found in a forest, the looming trees and critters running beneath fallen leaves and inside hollowed logs. She loved flowers in particular. Their colorful petals, deep green stems, and even their thorns all added to the immense beauty of it.
So as she sits in a bathroom at the Salvatore Boarding School clutching a singular rose petal, she finds it kind of ironic that one of the most beautiful things in life can cause so much pain. Pain from the petal that was just earlier lodged into her throat having to make its way out through violent coughs, and pain from knowing that there’s absolutely no chance that the person responsible for her unrequited feelings would ever feel the same, because Hope Mikaelson would never love her back. It’s a sad thing for her to admit but it’s obvious, and if anything, kind of pathetic. She just wishes that it weren’t so bad to the point of her developing a fatal disease.
Her thoughts are interrupted by two curt knocks on the restroom door. She quickly cleans herself up, pockets the petal, and leaves.
The week is filled with moments like this, where she excuses herself to go to the bathroom so she can cough up another petal (she never knows whether the deep red color is the original pigment of the rose or from the blood that escapes her throat every time she coughs) and drowns herself in her sorry thoughts. It becomes a regular routine, and she’s surprised that no one has noticed her abnormal behavior yet.
Except someone has.
On the eighth day of being infected with the disease, MG approaches her in the lunchroom.
“Uh, Josie? Can I talk to you really quickly?”
She nods, ignoring the confused look on Lizzie’s face, and they go to the hall nearby where there is thankfully no one around.
“Are you okay? Like, I dunno if it’s just the lighting or something but you’ve been looking really out of it lately.”
Josie thinks about whether she should tell him the truth or lie. She decides on the latter.
“Yeah, sorry. I’ve just been kind of tired.”
It’s not completely a lie. She has been losing some sleep the past few nights, her head usually filled with thoughts about--well, a lot of things actually. She’s also just tired of everything. She’s tired of not being able to breathe as easily as before (courtesy of the flowers growing their roots in her lungs), she’s tired of trying to mask her exhaustion so no one suspects anything, and she’s tired of seeing Landon try and make his way back into Hope’s life after running away for what feels like the 100th time while her body punishes itself for being in love with such an unreachable person.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna push but it seems like more than that.”
“Yes, I promise I’m-”
And all of a sudden Josie is kneeling over. The familiar pain of a petal desperately trying to come out of her throat is felt as she begins to cough. Immediately, she feels MG’s hands patting her back.
“Wh- What’s going on? Are you okay? Josie?” His panic is clear in his voice and it echoes in her ears, ringing like a bell. She continues coughing and wheezing until the cursed petal is finally out. She stares at it in her hand, because it’s different from the rose petals she usually throws up. It’s a petal of a striped carnation.
“Oh my god, do you have…?” MG trails off. Josie nods with a slight wince.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Have you told anyone? Lizzie, Dr. Saltzman, anyone?”
“No, and you’re not gonna tell anyone else.”
Her attempt at sounding stern fails when she wheezes and some blood comes out.
“Why? You can’t just hide it forever, Jos’.”
“I know, but I don’t need anyone else worried, especially with the whole Malivore situation.”
MG stares at her with pity and concern. It isn’t a nice feeling having her friend seem so worried about her.
“Please, MG, keep it a secret.”
With a final (though hesitant) nod, he says okay, and they return to the lunchroom to finish their meals.
“Wait, oh my god, did you guys just fu-” Lizzie’s vulgar assumption doesn’t finish because Josie lets out a disgusted groan while their friends at the table all giggle. Hope included.
It’s unnerving to think that something as simple as Hope laughing can bring the feelings of butterflies to Josie’s stomach. Even though the feeling is sweet, the added knowledge that her feelings for Hope are the whole reason why she’s suffering kind of makes it worse. She really just can’t help it though. What isn’t there to like about Hope? Her introverted yet caring nature, the way her auburn hair rests on her shoulders, her determination to protect the school even if it means her getting hurt herself. There’s just something about her that Josie has always liked, even when she had thought she’d gotten over her small crush years ago when really it just developed into stronger feelings.
She stops herself and shakes her head. No, this isn’t what she should be thinking about. She needs to be getting over her.
She gives a look to MG when she sees him conversing with Lizzie as a reminder to not let anything slip and then joins the ongoing conversation.
+x+
Lizzie finds out about a month later. Admittedly, it was a bit foolish for Josie to think that she wouldn’t end up finding out; her nosy twin who she shares a room with not finding anything suspicious about her being awfully cheery would be odd in and of itself.
She doesn’t know how she found out. She’s reminded MG not to tell anyone, she’s thorough when cleaning the bathroom off when she’s done from making a mess and keeps her petals in a small box under her bed (they’re still pretty, and Josie just doesn’t really want to discard them, even if they’re a daily reminder of something she’d rather not think about). Yet she still found out.
Lizzie confronts her when they’re laying in each of their respective beds at night.
“Josie, I know you have Hanahaki.”
Her immediate response is to deny it.
“What? No I don’t.”
The sound of shuffling is heard and then Lizzie is laying on Josie’s bed, but looking up at the ceiling.
“You could die, you know.”
She finds it surprising that Lizzie isn’t angry at her for not telling her sooner, and the way her voice is filled with what sounds like genuine concern tells her that she isn’t going to berate her anytime soon in their conversation. She gives up and lets out a sigh.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Who is it?”
Though it’s a vague question, she knows immediately what she’s asking.
Who do you have feelings for and why didn’t you tell me?
Josie stays silent. Thankfully, Lizzie doesn’t prod furthur.
“You need to confess.”
It doesn’t sound like an order but more like a plea.
“I can’t.”
Josie knows that it’s not a matter of ‘can’ or ‘cannot’ but she just doesn’t want to. She’s scared. It’s the wrong time anyway, and it would be useless. With Hope and Landon becoming closer (which Josie hates, and she hates the fact that she’s so jealous about it because in the end Hope is always happy with Landon, so she should really be happy for her instead) and her and Josie not even being best friends or anything close, she knows there’s no chance of Hope actually reciprocating her feelings. Even if she did confess, once she inevitably dies, she knows that Hope would only blame herself.
She hears faint sniffling from beside her. Instead of turning around, she closes her eyes and tries to drift off into sleep.
In the next few weeks, Josie avoids Hope like the plague. It doesn’t matter that she’s begun coughing up multiple petals at a time, one of those times including an inch of a stem. She’s also accepted that maybe dying is her only option.
After multiple sessions in the library reading about the Hanahaki disease, she finds nothing other than returned feelings can cure it. There are no spells, no herbs, no medical procedures, and she can’t even find anything to do with black magic that could cure it. There is nothing that she can do to avoid death.
And then Hope catches her sitting in the library with stacks of books about the disease and the symbolism of flowers and hell, even poetry books about the sorrows of love. Seeing her approach Josie with her lit up face and sparkling eyes makes her wish that she was never in such a grim situation so that maybe she could’ve spent more time with her without the pressure of dying on her shoulders.
“Jo’! I’ve been looking for you!”
With an awkward wave, she starts putting away the books as quickly as possible so Hope doesn’t see any of the titles or what any of the books she’s been intensely reading are about. It’s to no avail. Hope sits down next to her and after she reads aloud the title of one of the books, her face falls.
“...What are you doing research about this for?”
Don’t tell her, don’t tell her, don’t tell her- Josie realizes that it’s impossible to lie to Hope. She sputters something that even she herself can’t hear and it goes quiet between the two of them. It’s fine anyway, because from what it seems according to the look on Hope’s face, she already knows the answer to her own question.
Josie looks down, avoiding Hope’s eyes.
“Do you have it?”
It’s a useless question, they both know she does. Josie remains silent, but with a frail nod, she indicates her answer.
Of course, with only her luck, the one person she desperately doesn’t want to find out finds out anyway. When her heart thumps against her chest as if she were a middle schooler asking a crush out with a silly note, she feels as if the universe is making fun of her. Like it’s laughing at her, so miserable in her state yet her heart always returning back to what caused this all in the first place.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone? H- How long have you had it? It’s not too far in, right?”
Josie grimaces at her frantic voice.
“Lizzie and MG already know. Not that I really wanted them to, uhm, but yeah, they found out,” she tells her. “I’ve had it for about 2 and a half months now.”
“2 and a half- oh my god. Doesn’t that mean that you’re gonna die soon?”
She doesn’t answer her. Hope grabs a book and flips through it.
“There aren’t any cures except for if the person the patient has feelings for returns their feelings.”
Hope pauses and looks at Josie.
“Then you need to confess, right? Maybe the person you’re, uh, in love with likes you back?”
Josie can tell there’s the question of who do you have feelings for? lingering on the tip of her tongue. She chuckles softly.
“I don’t think so.”
“So you’re not even gonna try to fight it? Josie, please, you’re going to die in less than two weeks, please don’t give up. I know you’re stronger than this.”
Josie shakes her head.
“I’ve tried already, but I just… I don’t want the person to think that it’s their fault.”
Hope stares at her for what feels like forever.
“Penelope, right? It’s Penelope who you still have feelings for?”
Josie wants to laugh. She wants to laugh and tell her that no, it isn’t Penelope she’s hung over. It’s Hope, and it’s always been Hope. But she doesn’t say that. She doesn’t say anything, really.
“She’s still in love with you, Jo’.”
Josie stays silent, but when she looks at Hope and sees something unrecognizable in her eyes, something more than just concern or pity, she wants to say something. She just doesn’t know what. She says something anyway, much to the protest of the more reasonable side of her brain.
“It’s not, uh, her, that I have feelings for,” Josie says at a volume just barely above a whisper, “it’s you.”
“Oh.”
Shit shit shit that was so stupid why did you do that you’re so dumb she doesn’t love you-
“Wait, really?”
Hope is smiling. Hope is smiling.
“Yeah.”
The last few students had already left a few minutes ago, which meant that Hope and Josie were the only ones in the library. They both stay silent but lean slightly closer to each other. When their faces are less than a few inches apart, Hope makes the move to close the space in between them
Josie can’t tell which feels better: the sudden feeling of being free from the flowers that had before been firmly planted inside her lungs or the feeling of finally getting to kiss Hope and realizing that after all this time, she did share her feelings.
After what feels like an eternity in bliss, they pull apart.
“Wow,” is all Josie can say.
“I’m in love with you.”
Even if it was already obvious from the kiss, hearing it out loud from Hope is amazing. Everything she had just felt in the last five minutes was amazing.
But she supposes that something as beautiful as the flowers she’s admired all her life eventually sprouting something more beautiful and better than anything she could imagine shouldn’t be much of a surprise.