A bottle of stardust (SVT)

before

AN: This is what happened before and after hourglass

Jeonghan never thought he'd work in a hospital. People had teased him, saying patients would get heart-attacks just by seeing him, all clumsy but seductive, and Jeonghan had already anticipated that he would get a regular job. But then he was offered the job of an art therapist, and he was intrigued. Usually he handles those that need counselling and therapy, but one day he was getting ready to leave the ward when he saw a little boy. He was so small, so fragile and skinny, with porcelain skin and dark hair. But his eyes, oh, his eyes, so full of energy and love. Jeonghan had fallen in love immediately. He had asked about the little boy, and was told that he had some form of cancer, and that he didn't have much time left. And he learnt his name. Chan. Little, little Lee Chan. Jeonghan mustered up the courage one day to approach the child, who had grinned at him, his smile full of cheerfulness and friendliness that made Jeonghan's heart ache. Chan was so bright despite how much treatment he had to undergo and no matter how much pain he was in. Jeonghan would come with his trolley of art supplies and let Chan play with the pencils and crayons and paints. And day by day, Chan's condition actually seemed to be improving, and Jeonghan had wondered: how can this child be sick? He will be alright.

But that's the thing with love.

You think they'd be with you forever.

But fate had other plans for little Chan.

Jeonghan looked worriedly at his watch. Late. He was very late. Chan must be so disappointed. He hurries down the cool quiet hallways of the hospital, smiling hastily at nurses and waving at patients. He skims a finger over the spines of the books clasped in his hands, unable to hide his smile of anticipation. Chan would love these books. Chan had said mournfully that no one had read to him, and he was determined to change that. He arrived at the ward, but was surprised to see the curtain of Chan's bed drawn. Oh, well, he thought. I could give Chan a surprise. He peeked through the curtain. "Channie~"He cooed, then stopped. "Chan." He whispered. But Chan wasn't there. A small, fragile body laid in his place, covered by a blanket. "Chan?" Jeonghan tried again, though it was no use, gingerly extending a hand out and walking towards the bed, as if Chan could be saved by being gentle. He managed to touch the boy's hand, but recoiled instantly. Cold. Too, too cold. No. No. NO. Jeonghan falls to the ground sobbing, the books in his hands tumbling to the ground.

"Could...could I say goodbye to him, sir?"
"I'm so sorry Chan, we have to go."