169 — A Fever Dream II

Eun Ha's POV:

The world flickered in and out of existence behind Eun Ha's closed eyelids.

Her body felt heavy as lead pinned to the mattress, and every shift of limbs required tremendous willpower.

The first instance of consciousness brought with it blessed coolness against her blistering forehead. Moistness, soothing against her skin. Through a slit in her heavy eyelids, she saw him—Jae-il, her son, leaning over her with a damp washcloth in his hands.

"You shouldn't..." She tried to say, but her own throat was raw and uncooperative. The words died in a dry cough.

He didn't seem to hear her, or perhaps he chose not to. He simply continued to wipe her forehead, his movements gentle, careful. So caring. So... wrong. Why was it that it was her son that was standing there, in her husband's stead, to take care of her?

A bitter laugh echoed in the fever-addled corners of her mind.

She drifted again, the world dissolving into a swirl of heat and muted sounds. The next time she surfaced, Jae-il held a steaming bowl, the rich scent of soybean paste stew—her daughters' combined effort—wafting into her senses. He had a spoon.

"Mom, you need to eat something." Jae-il said, gently. "Just a few bites, at least."

Eun Ha wanted to refuse. To turn her head away and bury her face in the pillow. But her body, weak and starving, betrayed her. She let him help her sit up, the pillows propped behind her aching back. She winced a little at the sudden change in position.

Jae-il guided the spoon to her mouth, feeding her like an invalid, with such tenderness and care. With every bite, he seemed to study her face with his lovely purple eyes. It hurt, looking back at him. Eun Ha lowered her gaze, chewing silently. Each swallow felt like a stone in her throat.

She remembered the times she had fed him as a child; he'd always disliked it, wanting to hold the spoon himself, so independent even then. Now, their roles were reversed. The bitter irony tasted even worse than the fever.

"Good?"

Eun Ha just nodded. She couldn't bring herself to look up at him, so she just stared at the steam rising from the bowl. She didn't want to think how lovely Jae-il's face looked when he smiled, or how his long fingers were deftly handling the spoon. He scooped up some of the stew, brought his lips closer to it, and blew gently to cool it.

"......"

And then he gently pushed the spoon into her lips again.

She felt the hot, salty taste bloom in her mouth. Jae-il pulled the spoon out slowly, almost languorously. Eun Ha chewed, and swallowed.

She looked up, feeling his eyes on her face again, and then glanced at the bowl.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, blowing on the stew to cool it again before lifting the spoon. Eun Ha obediently opened her mouth and closed her lips around it.

"Better..."

"Mom, be honest with me."

A shiver rippled across her skin, both from his voice, and the fingers that brushed her cheek gently. "I'm... I'm feeling... much..."

Much, much worse. Eun Ha had to bite her tongue not to confess her weakness in a fit of delirium.

"Just... a little weak, and stuffy, and sore... but I'll get better soon."

The soup soothed her throat enough so that the words sounded vaguely plausible.

"Well, at least your voice sounds less scratchy, but you're pretty warm still." He concluded, the back of his palm going from her damp forehead to her cheek again. "I'm afraid you might be out of commission for a bit."

"......"

Jae-il continued to feed her.

When the bowl was half-empty, she shook her head and murmured a quiet, "That's enough." Her throat was still sore. She felt Jae-il withdraw, and her eyes lifted. "Thank you." She added, bursting into a fitful of coughs.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw him stand up. "Don't mention it, mom. You know you can always count on me to take care of you. All of you."

"......"

Eun Ha sighed as she sank back into the pillows, all her energy draining from her in a wave. Her eyes stung. She closed her eyes as tightly shut as she could,

"I'll come check on you later." He told her with a nod, then paused, meeting her eyes again.

Eun Ha's breath caught in her throat. She kept silent.

"Try and rest more. You need it. We'll keep your dinner for you." He set the bowl down on the dresser, and the spoon next to it. "Sweet dreams."

This time, Eun Ha allowed sleep to overtake her, and dragged her unwilling mind back under.

...

Again, when Eun Ha woke up a little later, Jae-il was by her bedside, watching her. Her heart was still beating frantically against her ribs. What had she dreamt of...? She could barely recall the jumbled mess of fever, a haunting image of her son, his purple eyes, and a locked door under crimson lights.

"You woke up just in time." He said, fiddling with the aluminum wrapper of the medication. "You need to take the next dose."

Eun Ha let out a feeble groan and went to push herself up into a sitting position. Her limbs moved sluggishly, like heavy weights, her strength utterly sapped by the infection and the emotional toll of... well, everything else.

"I don't like it." She glared at the pill in his fingers, a pout settling on her lips. "Why is it so big anyway? It's hard to swallow..."

"I'll ask around." Jae-il deadpanned. "Unless you'd prefer an IV bag?"

"I'd prefer nothing." She stuck out her lower lip petulantly. "Go away..."

"Stop whining." Jae-il said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Now open your mouth."

"......"

Her gaze darted toward her door, still shut tight.

"I'll make you." Jae-il added, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Eun Ha blushed at that, a heat spreading across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fever. Her mind, already muddled by illness, stumbled over his words.

Was this how mothers were supposed to feel when their sons threatened them into taking medication?

She finally managed a weak glare that lacked any real heat, like a kitten hissing at a lion. "You wouldn't dare." It sounded more like a question than a threat. What could he possibly do anyway? Wrench her mouth wide open and—

Uh-oh.

Eun Ha's blush deepened as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Fine!" She snatched the pill from his fingers before he could make good on any of his implied threats and popped it into her mouth, swallowing it with the grim determination of a martyr facing the gallows. "There."

"Good girl."

Jae-il chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

Girl. The word echoed in the fever-hazed chambers of her mind, sending a fresh wave of warmth through her that was definitely, unequivocally not fever-related.

He'd meant it endearingly, but Eun Ha didn't know why it had had the exact opposite effect. A strange, and quite distressing, feeling coiled in her belly as she looked up at him, her chest feeling full and oddly empty at the same time.

Jae-il set the cup of water next to her. "Finish the whole thing, will you?"

"Mn."

She didn't meet his eyes, drinking deeply, emptying the glass in a series of hurried, ungraceful gulps. Anything to ease the heat in her throat, the sting behind her eyes.

The terrible flutter in her stomach. Oh gosh, that was the worst.

Eun Ha wiped her mouth on her forearm. "Good?"

Gosh, she felt like she wasn't the same in front of him—almost as if she had de-aged a good fifteen years, physically and mentally.

"Very."

His expression, for some inexplicable reason, only intensified her blush, sending her head spinning all over again.

He didn't seem to notice her strange state. "Try and get some more rest." He stood again. "I'll be back shortly with some fruits and juices. In the meantime, here's the TV remote."

Eun Ha must've nodded because she caught the briefest twinkle of a smile before he handed her the remote and walked away.

…

She didn't fall asleep this time, despite the sluggishness of her body. She just lay there, watching the mindless television program flicker across the screen without really seeing it. When a familiar knock echoed from the door, she stiffened, then gulped. "Come in..."

The door opened slowly.

Jae-il stepped inside, carrying a small tray with a glass of orange juice and a plate of cut-up melon, and the smile that touched his lips was certainly more interesting than anything that the television had to offer. He set the tray on her nightstand, then sat on the edge of her bed. The mattress sagged under his weight.

"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, placing the tray on her bedside table.

Eun Ha managed a weak shrug. "As... as well as can be expected."

"I thought you might be hungry." He said, picking up a piece of melon with a small fork.

Eun Ha's gaze was fixed on his hands, on the elegant way he held the fork, on the piece of fruit glistening with juice.

"Open up."

She obeyed, her lips parting instinctively. The cool, sweet melon slid into her mouth, and she chewed slowly. The relief was immediate. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste, the coolness against her hot tongue.

When she opened them again, Jae-il was watching her, quietly, in a weird proud-like way, as if the sheer effort of her eating was an accomplishment.

"Don't look at me like that." She murmured, feeling a flush creep up her neck.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm... I'm a child." She couldn't find the words. "I'm not a baby, Jae-il."

A chuckle.

"I can see that."

The second piece of melon followed the first. And then a third.

"You don't have to..." She started, her voice trailing off as he offered her the fruit again.

"I want to." He said simply, and there was a finality in his tone that didn't invite argument.

So she let him feed her. Piece by piece, until the plate was empty. He then helped her sit up to drink the juice, his arm around her shoulders, his body close to hers.

"D-Dear... you shouldn't sit so close to me..." Eun Ha stuttered weakly, trying to move away, but her body felt too weak to obey. "You might catch..."

Her voice trailed off.

"Catch what, mom?"

"... germs." She ended her sentence lamely.

"I'll take the risk." Jae-il said gently.

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