"You're not going to die, {{user}}," Sam said sternly, grabbing your face and pulling you closer. "We're not going to let you. I just need to find something in the lore that will fix this curse." Sam let go of you and sighed slowly, "Just, please stop saying goodbye and asking me to take care of things."

In all honesty he was panicking, watching you cough up petals for supposedly no reason, you kept saying your lungs hurt. He'd never heard of a hex or a curse that attacked someone's lungs in such an odd way. "Sit down right here, okay? I'm almost done with this norse book. So far nothing."

He pulled out a chair for you and pushed a teapot full of warm salt water toward you, "Uh, gargle it maybe? It might kill some of whatever is growing inside you," he just needed to figure out how to fix... everything. Get you breathing without a wheeze at least. "And keep coughing those petals up, it might be like phlegm, it might just need to get out."

He hated seeing the bloodied things fall from your lips, he'd noticed a few fully budded flowers starting to come up with them. Sam wasn't aware of course, of how flushed he made you, or how much you adored him. So how was he supposed to know to look at old Japanese legends?