A typical summer day in Park Chanyeol's life meant a trip to the hospital that his mother worked at. A typical summer vacation for him meant another two months spent in the cold and unwelcoming place, surrounded by nothing and filled with dying people and antiseptics. He didn't hate it as much as any normal nineteen-year old would. Something about the place fascinated him, and he preferred the hospital's quiet and gloom over his friends' rowdiness and energy.

As per usual, he entered the place humbly, a smile on his face as the lady at the reception looked at him. A friendly smile grazed the older features of the woman, showing the wrinkles on the corner of her eyes. She tucked her gray hair behind her ear and beckoned Chanyeol to come over.

"Hi there, Yeollie dear! Are you staying here again for the summer?" She asked, clicking her pen absentmindedly.

"Yeah, I don't really have much choice now, do I, ahjumma?" Chanyeol chuckled softly, earning a pat on the cheek.

"Still such a sweet boy. Don't grow up, okay? Oh, and your mom's in the staff lounge if you want to see her."

Chanyeol nodded his head, smiling brightly at the old nurse. Keeping close to the walls so as not to obstruct the hallway traffic of stretchers, wheelchairs and doctors rushing about their daily schedule, he quickly made his way to the staff lounge, bowing and smiling at people whom he remembered.

As he reached the isolated door of the lounge, a panicked-looking nurse rushed out, accidentally bumping shoulders with Chanyeol. He managed to stand his ground, reaching out to keep the nurse from falling as well. The nurse threw him an apologetic look, bowing her head and rushing up the stairs quickly. Another nurse came out, and this time Chanyeol knew her.

"Oh, Chanyeol, you're here! Let's save the chitchat for later, okay? We're kind of in an emergency right now. Your mom's with us!" The nurse said, rushing and tripping over her own words as she followed the other nurse up the stairs.

Standing awkwardly in front of  the staff lounge, he didn't know what to do. Going in there without his mom was weird, so he decided to go up as well, planning to wait for his mom to finish with whatever emergency she was handling. Taking two steps at a time, he climbed up the stairs and saw one of the nurses enter the room at the end of the hallway. He made a beeline for the door, leaning on the wall opposite the room and propping up his knee to support his weight. He stayed quiet, listening to the muffled voices in the room in front of him.

The hallway was quiet and cold, and smelled strongly of antiseptics and medicine. And death. Surprisingly, this was what he found fascinating about hospitals. In a creepy, but endearing sort of way. People may think he had some kind of weird necrophilia thing going on, but he begged to differ. Wasn't it normal for a young person like to him be interested in life and death?

The door soon opened, and the two nurses from earlier had relieved expressions on their faces. Chanyeol pushed himself off the wall, looking at the nurses and doctor expectantly. They smiled at him, waving their hands and walking off to the other direction. His mom soon came out, a tired smile on her aged but pretty face. Her eyes widened comically at Chanyeol, and the boy couldn't help but notice where he got his eyes.

"Oh, honey, you're here." She said softly, closing the door behind her and standing in front of her son.

"Yeah, well, the alarm clock went off earlier than I expected. I think it's broken." He shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'll buy you a new one. Sorry I couldn't keep my lunch promise with you. Something came up suddenly." She sighed, jerking a thumb towards the door that she just came from.

"What happened? Everyone looked so scared."

"We almost lost him, oh that poor, sweet boy. I can't imagine him dying." Hyeonjong, Chanyeol's mom, breathed out sadly, hands habitually going to her uniform's pocket.

"Oh."

And this was what Chanyeol hated about the hospital. He knew everyone had to die eventually. That was a fact, and everyone was on their way there, but something about young people dying struck him as really odd and unfair. How can someone be taken away from this world so easily without even giving them the chance to give life a try?

"Yeol, maybe you could talk to him or something. He could use a friend, you know. He seems so sad in there, his family barely visits him." Hyeonjong was already moving away, and Chanyeol raised an eyebrow at her.

"What about lunch?" He pouted a little. He was really hungry, and questions about life and death quickly slipped from his mind.

"Aish, this boy. I'll buy you guys some food, so just go in there and talk."

Chanyeol shrugged his shoulders, walking towards the door and turning the knob slowly. He opened the door ever so slightly and peeked inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. From his viewpoint, he could see a small lump in the bed, mop of soft-looking blonde hair peeking out from under the covers. The room was eerily quiet and bare, and Chanyeol couldn't help but feel a little pity for the boy. Being sick was one thing, but being sick and alone was another.

He quietly stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He knocked softly on the door to alert the boy of his presence, and he casually walked inside, standing just at the foot of the bed and watching the lump in the bed squirm around uncomfortably, trying to get up into a sitting position.

As soon as the boy sat up, Chanyeol felt his eyes widen and he unconsciously let out a soft 'oh'. He must have looked funny, because the boy giggled softly, his delicate and effeminate looking hand covering his mouth, fingers thin and long. His eyes turned into crescents as he giggled, and it was the most adorable eye-smile that Chanyeol had ever laid eyes on (and that was something because he was friends with the supposed campus' pretty princess, Luhan).

The boy finally calmed down, the ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He placed his hands down on his lap, eyes trained on Chanyeol's tall figure standing awkwardly at the foot of his bed. He his lips before speaking, and Chanyeol noted this little gesture in his mind, feeling very much like a creep for doing so.

"Hi there." The boy said softly, and his voice sounded soft and raspy at the same time; Chanyeol found himself wanting to hear more.

"H-hi." What is awkward.

"I don't think I've seen you around here..." The boy trailed off, a questioning smile on his face.

"Y-yeah, well, I just came today. I'm, uh, the son of one of the nurses here earlier." Chanyeol scratched his cheek with one finger, trying to calm his nerves.

"Oh, really? May I guess which nurse?" He asked brightly, and Chanyeol doubted for a moment if he was really sick considering how youthful and bright he looked.

"Go crazy." Chanyeol nodded his head, and the boy's smile grew wider.

"Hmm...you're Hyeonjong-ahjumma's son, am I right?"

Chanyeol blinked, and the boy smiled at the surprised expression on his face. He suddenly started coughing, and he covered his mouth with his hand, looking away from the taller boy. Chanyeol found himself depressed at hearing the painful-sounding coughs. He watched as the boy's small frame shook with a terrible coughing fit. He finally stopped after a while, and when he looked back, he was wiping away tears from his eyes. Chanyeol eyed him worriedly.

"You okay, man?" Chanyeol asked, and he felt stupid for asking that because of course the boy wasn't ing okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine." The boy still managed to smile, and Chanyeol felt his chest tighten with pity.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air. Chanyeol wanted to break it, but the boy got to it first.

"You have her eyes." He said quietly, staring at Chanyeol's face.

"Sorry?"

"Hyeonjong-ahjumma's eyes. You have the same eyes. Pretty and big."

"Oh."

"I'm Baekhyun." He said shyly, holding out his milky white hand for a handshake.

Chanyeol quickly stepped over, maybe a beat too quickly, which made Baekhyun give him a big grin, eye-smile and all that. A big, warm hand enclosed a small, less warm one, and they exchanged smiles.

Chanyeol couldn't believe that Baekhyun was sick. How could he? The boy was beautiful, nowhere near the description of what he usually read in books about sick people. He was far off from the other patients in the hospital. Yes, he was pale and he looked frail, like a slight push would topple him over. He was so soft-spoken that each of his word felt like a whisper, as if it would damage him forever if he spoke too loud. But to Chanyeol, he still looked fine.

He gently squeezed the boy's hand, smiling and letting his signature twitch come out. Baekhyun giggled at the sight, amused.

"I'm Chanyeol. Nice to meet you, Baekhyun."