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Description
Before Autumn

Pairing: England x China
An: Written for the fantasy iggychu contest on DA.

Chapter 1

He looked out the window with lifeless eyes. The doctor wondered if he had even heard him. "Mr. Kirkland?" the man turned to him. "Well, I have lived a great life, didn't I?" he replied with a bitter smile. The doctor gave him a firm nod. Only the man himself would know the answer to that. He didn't know what to reply to him. He eventually left the room, but the man didn't seem to notice.

He had looked at the doctor hopeful, right before he brought the bad news. He never thought his life would end this soon. He gathered the cards and fan letters with a soft sigh. This man is Arthur Kirkland, a famous writer. His fans had been sending him cards and letters in hope he would get better.  You see, he had just started on the last novel in his latest series. Everyone was looking forward to read it. Little did they know it would be the last thing their beloved writer would write.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Before autumn." He mumbled to himself. The doctors didn't give him any longer, it was official, they had given upon him. He bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to die, it felt too early. He still wanted to see the beauty of this world, he wanted to write more novels. He wanted to leave something behind that would last forever.

Ironically how under his room walked a man that lived forever, but didn't want to leave anything behind that would last. The sun had just set as he arrived. A night surgeon and a good one indeed. He was perhaps the solution for the poor writer.

The surgeon's steps quickened as he rushed to his patient. It was a lost case, he had known that, but yet his family had still demanded a surgery. The poor guy wouldn't even see the sunrise. Yao licked his lips. It was perhaps an immoral thing to do, he though as he bend over his patient. He had thought this many times.

The irony, a man that was supposed to save people, was sucking out their lives. Only the ones that never stood a chance, though. Yao had convinced himself that this was the best to do, yet he felt guilty as he sucked out his patient's blood. He was stealing the last moments of their lives. Moments they should at least have deserved.

He wiped some blood away from the corner of his mouth and put back on the health mask.  The health mask was a poor excuse to hide his mouth from people. As a surgeon, no one questioned it.  "Time of death…" he started and glanced at his watch. "7:10 pm" he spoke and wrote it down. He quickly covered up the bite marks, before leaving the surgery room.

Outside the wife of the patient had been waiting. Yao shook his head at her as she had looked at him hopeful. He didn't look at her, but he knew tears were welling up in her eyes. He knew she would sink through her knees and cover her eyes as she cried into her hands. She seemed the type for it. Yao couldn't look at her. The taste of blood was still fresh, just like the guilt. He couldn't look at her. He of all people knew what it was like to have your heart broken. Only she wouldn't have to live so long with it, he had to live with it forever.

He turned around and heard the assistant nurse talk to the woman, trying to calm her down. Nurses seem to be the ones to reassure the patients, they were warm, as surgeons could only be cold and bring bad news. Yao left the hallway, he didn't want to hear her screams and sobs. He may be cold like your average vampire, he still had a heart much alike a human.

The Chinese man stepped into the elevator and went one up. As he arrived there, he could still hear the sobs of the woman. No wait- it weren't those of a woman but of a young man. He listened again. Soft sobs, suppressed with a pillow. He could hear them. He walked through the hallway, most doors were open. He could see nurses feeding patients and giving them medicines. Only one room wasn't crowded. In fact there was only one patient.

He glanced over at the man who was trying to hold back his tears. "It is okay to cry, it doesn't mean you are weak, it means you are human." The man visibly froze and looked up from his pillow. "I wasn't-" he protested but then he saw the man. A doctor. Arthur always found it hard to lie to them. It was as if they could look right into your mind, as if they knew the truth. Perhaps due experience. They have seen this behavior before, so they knew the truth.

He bit his bottom lip in shame. Yao sent the man a reassuring smile, even though this couldn't be seen as his mouth was hidden behind the health mask. "I am sorry." Arthur mumbled. This caused the Chinese man to raise an eyebrow. "For what?" "I don't know…" the other replied softly. Yao set foot into the room and walked to check the clipboard.

Eyes light up slightly as he saw the name of the man. Arthur Kirkland. Yao had to kill time when he was awake at day so he read books. New and old ones. He had become fascinated by the books of this man. They were different than any others he had read. And that says something. Yao is close to 400 years old, he had read too many books.

His eyes however saddened as he read on. The diagnosis wasn't good. Pretty bad. He couldn't say how long he would live, but he knew that this wouldn't be long. It all explained why Arthur had been crying. "Are you afraid?" he asked the English man.

End of chapter one.

Description
Before Autumn

Pairing: England x China
An: Written for the fantasy iggychu contest on DA.

Chapter 1

He looked out the window with lifeless eyes. The doctor wondered if he had even heard him. "Mr. Kirkland?" the man turned to him. "Well, I have lived a great life, didn't I?" he replied with a bitter smile. The doctor gave him a firm nod. Only the man himself would know the answer to that. He didn't know what to reply to him. He eventually left the room, but the man didn't seem to notice.

He had looked at the doctor hopeful, right before he brought the bad news. He never thought his life would end this soon. He gathered the cards and fan letters with a soft sigh. This man is Arthur Kirkland, a famous writer. His fans had been sending him cards and letters in hope he would get better.  You see, he had just started on the last novel in his latest series. Everyone was looking forward to read it. Little did they know it would be the last thing their beloved writer would write.

He ran his fingers through his hair. "Before autumn." He mumbled to himself. The doctors didn't give him any longer, it was official, they had given upon him. He bit his bottom lip. He didn't want to die, it felt too early. He still wanted to see the beauty of this world, he wanted to write more novels. He wanted to leave something behind that would last forever.

Ironically how under his room walked a man that lived forever, but didn't want to leave anything behind that would last. The sun had just set as he arrived. A night surgeon and a good one indeed. He was perhaps the solution for the poor writer.

The surgeon's steps quickened as he rushed to his patient. It was a lost case, he had known that, but yet his family had still demanded a surgery. The poor guy wouldn't even see the sunrise. Yao licked his lips. It was perhaps an immoral thing to do, he though as he bend over his patient. He had thought this many times.

The irony, a man that was supposed to save people, was sucking out their lives. Only the ones that never stood a chance, though. Yao had convinced himself that this was the best to do, yet he felt guilty as he sucked out his patient's blood. He was stealing the last moments of their lives. Moments they should at least have deserved.

He wiped some blood away from the corner of his mouth and put back on the health mask.  The health mask was a poor excuse to hide his mouth from people. As a surgeon, no one questioned it.  "Time of death…" he started and glanced at his watch. "7:10 pm" he spoke and wrote it down. He quickly covered up the bite marks, before leaving the surgery room.

Outside the wife of the patient had been waiting. Yao shook his head at her as she had looked at him hopeful. He didn't look at her, but he knew tears were welling up in her eyes. He knew she would sink through her knees and cover her eyes as she cried into her hands. She seemed the type for it. Yao couldn't look at her. The taste of blood was still fresh, just like the guilt. He couldn't look at her. He of all people knew what it was like to have your heart broken. Only she wouldn't have to live so long with it, he had to live with it forever.

He turned around and heard the assistant nurse talk to the woman, trying to calm her down. Nurses seem to be the ones to reassure the patients, they were warm, as surgeons could only be cold and bring bad news. Yao left the hallway, he didn't want to hear her screams and sobs. He may be cold like your average vampire, he still had a heart much alike a human.

The Chinese man stepped into the elevator and went one up. As he arrived there, he could still hear the sobs of the woman. No wait- it weren't those of a woman but of a young man. He listened again. Soft sobs, suppressed with a pillow. He could hear them. He walked through the hallway, most doors were open. He could see nurses feeding patients and giving them medicines. Only one room wasn't crowded. In fact there was only one patient.

He glanced over at the man who was trying to hold back his tears. "It is okay to cry, it doesn't mean you are weak, it means you are human." The man visibly froze and looked up from his pillow. "I wasn't-" he protested but then he saw the man. A doctor. Arthur always found it hard to lie to them. It was as if they could look right into your mind, as if they knew the truth. Perhaps due experience. They have seen this behavior before, so they knew the truth.

He bit his bottom lip in shame. Yao sent the man a reassuring smile, even though this couldn't be seen as his mouth was hidden behind the health mask. "I am sorry." Arthur mumbled. This caused the Chinese man to raise an eyebrow. "For what?" "I don't know…" the other replied softly. Yao set foot into the room and walked to check the clipboard.

Eyes light up slightly as he saw the name of the man. Arthur Kirkland. Yao had to kill time when he was awake at day so he read books. New and old ones. He had become fascinated by the books of this man. They were different than any others he had read. And that says something. Yao is close to 400 years old, he had read too many books.

His eyes however saddened as he read on. The diagnosis wasn't good. Pretty bad. He couldn't say how long he would live, but he knew that this wouldn't be long. It all explained why Arthur had been crying. "Are you afraid?" he asked the English man.

End of chapter one.