152 — Thumb on the Lifeline

Eun Ha's POV:

"......"

"Have you forgotten how to talk again?" Jae-il's teasing voice filled her head like the worst and the most amazing drug, numbing and purging all sensations. Fuck.

She stiffened under his grasp and stepped back, her head shaking side to side as her eyes swam with tears.

He released her, confused, a tilt to his head. She felt bad.

"Hey, mom, did I say something wrong?"

Eun Ha took one more step back, for safety. Every thought, every feeling, it was all so wrong. "No... no, not you. It's nothing to do with you. I... it's..." She blinked again and looked around the room, trying to find something to anchor her to reality. Trying to find Mia, or Su Ah, to call for backup. But the place seemed deserted. "Where... where are you sisters?"

Jae-il gave a little shrug as he moved back to the kitchen, Eun Ha absent-mindedly following after him like a moth drawn to a flame, even though she knew the importance of keeping distance. "Neither of them are home, but they should be back soon-ish?"

"......"

Eun Ha found herself alone with her son.

Her son. The boy she'd held in her arms, whose scraped knees she'd kissed, whose dreams she'd encouraged, whose every milestone—steps, teeth, height—she'd marked and conserved. The same boy who now stood before her, a handsome young man, a celebrated athlete, a living, breathing temptation.

"It's just me and you, mom." Jae-il said simply. Then, with an eyebrow arched, his eyes holding a quiet twinkle, he said. "Unless you'd rather talk to the wall than me, but I'm pretty sure I'd be more entertaining."

She swallowed thickly. "J-Just you and me...?"

"Well... yeah. The usual suspects, if you think about it, aren't here now." The shadow of a smile touched Jae-il's lips before he shrugged and turned away from her. "How have you been, mom?"

"I... I've been fine." Her own voice sounded strange to her ears, small, and distant. She remained standing in the threshold, a sentinel guarding a fort already breached. She didn't want to get any closer.

Jae-il didn't seem to notice her unease, or if he did, he didn't comment on it. "Have you been eating well?" He asked, opening the refrigerator door and peeking inside.

Eun Ha didn't answer, her mind too busy replaying Dr. Han's words. 'Before you leave, I want you to consider something. What if your son isn't the innocent bystander in all this?'

Jae-il emerged from the fridge with a carton of milk, twisting off the cap and pouring it into a glass. He took a long gulp, then set the glass down with a soft thud. "Mom? You there?"

Eun Ha flinched. "I'm fine, Jae-il. Just... tired. And yes, I've been eating well."

She watched as Jae-il took a seat on one of the stools by the kitchen counter, placing his bag down next to him. She followed his movements closely, as if he'd stand up suddenly and leap straight at her at the most opportune moment, perhaps.

'He isn't like this...'

She was simply projecting her fears. She shouldn't assume anything from others, least of all her son.

But even with that thought, she couldn't stop her eyes from following the shape of him.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on the counter, taking small, measured sips of the milk, simply savoring the taste of being home again with a blissful sigh.

Eun Ha couldn't help but huff an incredulous breath. She was acting so pathetic right now. So fucking ridiculous. He didn't mean anything by this. He didn't know what he was doing.

Was there even something he was doing? What was she so guarded for?

Jae-il was there, and she should've been glad, should've forgot about all the unpleasantness she was mulling over. This was also a form getting through her 'illness'—facing the demon head-on, letting the spell break.

Eun Ha laughed bitterly at her own thoughts. She sat across from him, letting out a weary sigh. Her knee bounced with a jitter. Her fingers felt clumsy and weak, her mouth dry, her lungs lacking oxygen. All of her muscles, even her bones, ached as if she had walked a whole continent nonstop.

Still, the corners of his mouth lifted up, as if in reply to her sound. "How was your day?"

Eun Ha huffed again; Jae-il had always been the only one to really take interest in how her day was. Not that Mia and Su Ah didn't care, but her days usually consisted of cleaning the house and taking care of mundane tasks. They've never actually listened to her before, they were far more interested in their own day.

But with him? He loved to listen, no matter how mundane the conversation was. He enjoyed it, actually, he took some sort of pleasure out of knowing the everyday intricacies of her life.

With Yeong Gu, this type of care had long been gone. He wasn't even around long enough to sense how everything in the house was falling apart. And part of her believed he wouldn't even care.

Eun Ha could feel herself fall back into her previous behavior around Jae-il, seeking his attention, basking in the positive recognition he offered to her so generously. She fought hard to tame her facial expression, to hide that giddy spark that Jae-il's smile drew from her so easily.

"It was... exhausting." She admitted, though she'd never admit the reason as to why.

"You do look a little off. Anything in particular happened?" A pause. "Something I can help with?" Jae-il finished as he casually offered the half-full glass of milk to Eun Ha with one hand, a boyish grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

She couldn't suppress a tired giggle at that as she took the offered glass, staring a little dazedly at the lip print he left on the rim of the glass.

Inadvertently, she brought the cup closer to her lips, pausing just short of it, as if to think better of it, and maybe she should have. There was no need for such hesitation, but she was so self-conscious about it.

Now, her own lip print bled right into his.

It was stupid. Which mother would have such thoughts when sharing a glass with her son? It was normal, something that happened every day. Why did it have to feel so different now?

Eun Ha stared at the faint crescent his and her mouth had left on the glass.

She could feel the heat crawling up her throat.

Stupid.

So stupid.

She tilted the glass anyway and drank—small, careful sips, exactly where his lips had been. The milk tasted colder than it should have. Or maybe she was the one burning.

Jae-il watched her with that lazy, half-lidded amusement that had his eyes narrow just the slighest bit, giving him that perfect lazy but hot look. This boy was growing too fast, and was dangerously ticking all the fucking right boxes.

"You're doing the thing again." He said, exasperated.

"What thing?"

"That thing." Jae-il vaguely gestured. "That same look you have whenever I bring up father. You know, you kind of just shut up and stiffen up."

She almost choked.

Almost laughed.

Settled somewhere miserably in between.

Really, really stupid.

"I'm fine."

"You're a terrible liar, mom." He rolled his eyes. "Always been."

He leaned his cheek on his fist, studying her the way he used to study puzzle boxes when he was small. Patient, certain he'd figure it out eventually, no need to rush.

Eun Ha set the glass down too hard. She closed her eyes,

She wanted to ask him.

Right then.

Blurt it out like throwing up poison—

Hey, do you feel it too?

When you hug me too long, is it still just a hug to you?

When you look at me the way you're looking right now, is it still just a son looking at his mother?

Are you and Mia fucking—

Eun Ha gritted her teeth. What the hell. What kind of mother could ask something to her kid? Dr. Han's words were getting to her. Instead she calmed down and said, very quietly. "You came home early."

"Yeah." He shrugged one shoulder. "Missed the smell of your terrible laundry detergent."

Eun Ha's lips puckered into a pout. "There's nothing wrong with how I do my laundry."

He chuckled, quietly, as if caught for the lie, and sighed again, stretching.

Eun Ha was so caught up by the way his jersey clung so snugly on his frame that she didn't notice him slowly reaching across the counter.

Not fast. Not too suddenly, but with the kind of inevitability that had Eun Ha stay completely still.

His fingers brushed the back of her hand where it rested, trembling, next to the glass. Just a brush. Barely a contact. Barely something worth fussing over. Her whole arm lit up, tingles spreading all over her clammy hand. Eun Ha pursed her lips, staring.

He didn't pull away.

Neither did she.

"You're shaking." He murmured, confused.

"I'm cold."

"You're not cold."

He turned her hand over slowly, like he was handling something fragile. Her hand was completely swallowed by his. His thumb traced the lifeline on her palm once. Just once.

Eun Ha's breath snagged somewhere behind her ribs. She should've said something, then. Something appropriate and motherly and sensible.

Somewhere in her head, Dr. Han's piercing eyes were judging as Eun Ha let it all happen, merely watching, helpless and fascinated, as Jae-il's thumb made one more deliberate pass over that line.

Her eyes trembled. She continued watching, observing, his thumb tracing her palm like he intended to read all of her problems from it. 'Is he doing it on purpose?'

Touching her like this. It was all innocent, and a year ago she wouldn't have thought anything of this, perhaps still shouldn't, but Eun Ha wasn't in the right state of mind to read his intentions as anything other than seduction right now.

Because damn it, her heart was beating really, really fast.

And then he spoke again.

"You can tell me, you know."

Eun Ha blinked in a sweaty fluster. Did her hand tell him something?!

"T-Tell you what?"

He lifted his eyes to hers as he released her hand. Eun Ha's hand twitched, almost as if snapping up towards his, to keep it exactly where it was, to trap it there.

Her fingertips ghosted his, briefly.

"Whatever it is that's got you so worked up right now."

"......"

She stared at him, a bitter sense of defeat on her face.