The hospital room was quiet except for the soft beeping of the monitor beside the bed.
Do-hyun sat on the chair next to his mother, carefully peeling an apple. The skin fell in long curls onto the paper plate in his lap. His hands shook a little, but he tried to keep them steady.
His mother smiled weakly, her lips pale, eyes tired and sunken.
"You're peeling it too thick again," she said, voice hoarse but teasing.
Do-hyun looked up at her, half laughing, half breaking inside. "You still have the energy to complain?"
She smiled again, barely. "A mother never runs out of energy for that."
He cut a small slice and held it out to her. She took it between trembling fingers and chewed slowly. Then she broke off another piece and held it to his lips.
"Eat, Do-hyun. You always forget to eat when you're here."
He leaned forward, took the apple from her hand, and smiled faintly. "You should worry about yourself, not me."
"I do," she murmured. "That's why I want to see you eat."
