How about Cosmic Horror? Chapter 7

The yellow one looked like a forsythia, and the bright pink one next to it, an azalea? The white one, a cherry blossom? She could recognize tulips, roses, and lilies, but she wasn’t very knowledgeable about flowers so she couldn’t be sure about the rest.

As she stared absentmindedly at the gently swaying petals, his hand reached out.

“To be honest, you sometimes wanted to sleep alone. Said I was annoying.”

His fingertip grazed her cheek lightly as if he were touching a fragile baby.

“But you were always too tired to move, so you fell asleep next to me anyway.”

She had a sinking feeling that asking what he did to exhaust her would be like scoring an own goal. She desperately pretended not to understand.

“I guess I’m lacking stamina. I should exercise more.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Wait, why are you grateful for it? What are you planning to do to me after I build up my stamina?

She shivered. He laughed and poked her cheek again.

He was a man who laughed a lot. In the photos, he seemed like a cold beauty, but to think he smiled so easily… She couldn’t imagine what he looked like. She’d be able to see it with her own eyes one day, right? Once this cosmic horror filter that had been forcibly installed in her eyes was removed.

She reached out for her phone on the side table. Pressing the camera button, she checked the photo album. A handsome man with a playful expression tilted his head at her. His beauty made her want to clutch her heart.

Looking at it again, she realized it perfectly matched her taste, so perfect that she could believe it came from her imagination. It felt like her ideal type had been brought to life. It was fascinating.

“Love the real me, not just the one on screen, honey.”

He covered the phone screen with his large hand. Looking up reluctantly, she saw the bouquet looming as if it might spill over her. Startled, she pressed herself against the headboard.

“What, scared I’ll eat you? You said they’re not carnivorous flowers.”

“They’re not, but it’s still overwhelming.”

“Because I’m not in human form? I’m still 90% human, you know?”

Technically, he was right. Everything below the shirt collar was human. But the most important part—the face—was a bouquet.

“It’s a bit… difficult, without eyes, a nose, or a mouth.”

“Wouldn’t flowers be scarier if they had eyes, a nose, and a mouth?”

“Eeek!”

Imagining it without thinking, she recoiled. Flowers with facial features? She’d rather have tentacles with eyes. At least that would just be something creepy becoming even creepier, so the mental blow wouldn’t be as great.

“Picture it: flowers moving their mouths, chattering away, sticking out their tongues, asking for a kiss.”

“Ughhh.”

His detailed description made her feel even more uncomfortable.

“Why are you torturing me like this first thing in the morning?”

“I’m telling you, compared to those, I’m not so bad. So please try to see me in a better light.”

He pulled her hand to his cheek. As her fingers slipped through the swaying flowers, she felt warm skin. He nuzzled her palm as if he were whining, and then buried his face in her hand. The flowers danced softly as if swayed by a spring breeze.

The sight of the colorful flowers, blooming profusely and swaying gently, was quite beautiful. Enough to make her momentarily forget the bizarre situation. However, she quickly remembered where the flowers were growing and awkwardly pulled her hand away. If only they weren’t on top of his neck, they would have been truly beautiful.

“I’ll try.”

Accepting his creature-like form from a horror movie would take time, but she was willing to try. She might have to live with this forever, after all.

“Alright.”

Satisfied with that, he briskly changed the subject.

“Oh, if Shan ignores you or causes trouble, tell it you’ll tattle to me.”

“Huh? That’s a bit…”

Irae trailed off. No matter how smart the cat was, she doubted it would understand such complex instructions. If it could, it’d belong on a TV show—communicating fluently with humans. Or maybe on a video-sharing site for ad revenue.

“Just try. For me.”

His insistence made her start to wonder. Was he teasing her? Or was he a ridiculously doting cat owner, despite not looking like one? Did he actually believe his cat was a genius who understood human language?

Suddenly, she remembered an acquaintance who acted like their cat was the second coming of Einstein just because it shed a lot. Cats must have some lethal charm that clouds human reason and strips away objectivity.

Well, if he was blinded by love, there was no point arguing. She decided to just play along.

“Okay. If Shan ever misbehaves, I’ll try talking to it.”

“Good. I’ll go prepare breakfast, so get ready and come out, honey.”

Rising from the bed, he bowed elegantly like a nobleman in a pre-modern European film and kissed the back of her hand.

“This is today’s good morning kiss.”

Her eyes widened. The kiss itself was surprising, but what shocked her more was his use of the phrase “today’s.” That meant there would be a “tomorrow’s,” a “day after tomorrow’s,” and on and on—a scheduled quota of good morning kisses!

“Tomorrow’s will be somewhere else, so brace yourself.”

At his declaration of intent, Irae’s eyes rounded, and she covered her lips with her palm. He laughed and left the room. Alone, annoyed at being completely at his mercy, she impulsively smacked the pillow.

“Ow.”

She’d hit it wrong and tweaked her wrist. Is this why they say to keep your temper in check? Reflecting on her actions, she rubbed her wrist. The spot where his lips had touched lingered with a tingling warmth.

How often in life does someone kiss the back of your hand? For her, it was a first. Maybe that’s why it felt so special. She could see why a knight pledging pure devotion was a timeless female fantasy. Having someone kiss your hand so respectfully… it unexpectedly appealed to her traditional romantic side.

Slightly giddy, she brought her hand to her face. She wasn’t going for an indirect kiss, just touching it to her cheek. It smelled faintly of flowers, somehow nice… 

She froze mid-thought.

Flower scent?

His bouquet head was nothing but an illusion created by her brain. So even if she touched his face or was kissed by him, there was no reason for her hand to smell like flowers because it wasn’t real.

As if her previous excitement had been a lie, her expression changed, and she brought her hand to her nose. The scent had disappeared. Or had she imagined it? 

Unable to discern what was true, she kept sniffing, trying to catch even the faintest lingering scent.

In the end, she gave up and headed to the bathroom to wash up.

* * *

The doctor’s response could be summed up in three words: “That can happen.” It was a deflating response to Irae’s frantic explanation of her condition. But it was also reassuring. If the doctor had said, “I’ve never heard of such symptoms…?” that would’ve been the horror story of the century.

She was a million times more comfortable with a blasé ‘That’s a common symptom, don’t overreact.’ than being told something like, ‘It seems to be an unreported syndrome. We’ll name it Yoo Irae Syndrome after you, the first known patient.’

After scheduling her next appointment, the doctor offered some words of comfort.

“As long as you can walk on two legs and move both arms, you’re fine.”

…Doctor? With all due respect, isn’t your standard for “fine” too low? Then again, it wasn’t technically wrong. As long as her limbs worked, everything else could probably be figured out.

Leaving the examination room, she spotted a striking man standing to the side. Perfect body, avant-garde bouquet head—her husband.

“Yohan.”

Wondering why he was standing there when there was a waiting area, she called out. He approached at her voice.

“What did the doctor say?”

“Well… I’m not sure I got it all, but roughly: it might be temporary, or it might not. We’ll know with time. Worrying won’t change anything, so don’t stress. Other brain functions seem fine. We’ll do more tests. That’s about it?”

The doctor’s explanation was so convoluted she wasn’t sure she’d understood correctly.

The flowers clustered atop his dress shirt collar bloomed even more brilliantly as if rejoicing.

“That’s good news. No major issues.”

“For now, but we’ll see with time.”

The brain is a mysterious realm. Tests showed no issues elsewhere, but who knows what might turn up later?

“He said worrying won’t change anything, so don’t stress over it, right?”

As her mind started to tangle with emotions, he timely interrupted her thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any energy left?”

“I’m a bit tired… Why?”

“If you have some energy, I was going to ask you to hang out with me.”

“Hang out? Doing what?”

“There are two options. Being lovey-dovey outside, or being lovey-dovey at home.”

He said cheerfully, folding two fingers one after another. This man seemed to love the phrase ‘lovey-dovey’. It wasn’t a phrase she used often, but she’d already heard it multiple times from him.

Which should she choose?