Lunar rushes to the bathroom covering his mouth with his hands as a small spurt of blood spews from between his fingers to drip down the back of his hand.

It was happening again...

Lunar hurriedly shut the door, smearing blood on the handle, almost tripping before reaching the toilet, spitting out the thick substance littered with the small velvety blue petals of a borage flower. Though the flower was gentle, it still hurt. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, his throat stung.