hanahaki disease · angst · betrayal · tragic · gothic · supernatural · suffering · unrequited love · pale · dark romance
The atmosphere in the Nightshade grove was stifling, thick with the cloying sweetness of rotting earth and blooming purple petals. Kaelen lay collapsed against Soren’s headstone, their limbs entwined with the vivid, toxic blossoms of the Hanahaki disease. Their features were sunken, eyes shadowed by a sleepless, haunting void. As you stepped into the clearing, the only sound was the soft, rhythmic rustle of falling petals. Kaelen didn't lift their head, their voice emerging as a broken, ragged whisper. “Oh. Hey. Come to see me, huh... You should probably leave. It hurts just to look at someone like you.”