In a parallel universe, Woo Do Hwan is not a South Korean actor but a young man born in North Korea. Do Hwan's life has been a series of escape attempts, survival strategies, and small victories over hardship. Together with his mother, he fled North...
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By four am His tiny son's soft whimpers began to grow louder, and Do Hwan immediately recognised the signs—he was hungry once again.
"Okay, okay, I hear you," he chuckled softly, standing to prepare a bottle. The kitchen was only a few steps away, and he quickly measured the formula, mixing it with the precision he had learned in the hospital. He tested the temperature on his wrist before returning to the bed.
Eo Jun's little fists waved in the air, his cries escalating as if to say, Hurry up, Appa!
"Here we go, sweet boy," Do Hwan cooed, cradling him in one arm and guiding the bottle to his tiny mouth. Eo Jun latched on eagerly, and the room fell silent except for the soft sounds of his feeding. Do Hwan marveled at the sight, his son's delicate features illuminated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp.
For the first time since he had arrived in Belgium, Do Hwan felt a moment of peace. The weight of his struggles—the grueling escape from North Korea, the harrowing journey through China, the fear of deportation, and the months of navigating Belgium's asylum system—faded into the background as he gazed at his son.
"You look so much like me," he said softly, tracing a finger along Eo Jun's cheek. "But I see a little of your grandmother, too. She would have loved you." His voice broke slightly, and he swallowed hard, pushing the grief away. "I promise you, I'll do everything I can to give you the life she wanted for us."
~
The chill of an early December morning seeped through the old apartment walls, but Woo Do Hwan didn't feel the cold. He woke to the sound of soft coos beside him, the melody of life that had given him strength through the darkest days. His son, Eo Jun, lay bundled in layers of warm fabric, his small chest rising and falling steadily. Do Hwan smiled, his heart swelling with emotions he couldn't name, a mix of relief, joy, and an aching tenderness.
He placed his hand gently on Eo Jun's stomach, rubbing it in soothing circles. "Good morning, little one," he whispered, his voice still husky with sleep. Eo Jun stirred slightly, his delicate eyelids fluttering as his tiny fingers curled into a fist. Do Hwan leaned down, burying his face into the soft warmth of his son's cheek before planting a feather-light kiss there.
The baby let out a soft, sleepy sound, and Do Hwan chuckled. "You're already a charmer, aren't you?"
The apartment was modest—a small kitchen attached to a living area, a bathroom, and two bedrooms—but to Do Hwan, it was a sanctuary. After months of uncertainty, the sleepless nights in hospital corridors, and the desperate prayers for his fragile son, they were finally home.
Elise, his roommate, had been more than a blessing. She had taken him in when he was at his lowest, a stranger with a complicated story, and treated him like family. He had been cautious at first, hesitant to reveal too much about his situation, but over time, her kindness broke down his walls.
As if on cue, Elise's voice called out from the kitchen. "Do Hwan, I made coffee! Want some?"
He glanced at Eo Jun, who was blinking up at him now, his dark eyes wide and curious. "Looks like we're starting the day," he murmured to his son before raising his voice to respond. "Yes, I'll be out in a moment!"
Carefully, he picked up Eo Jun, cradling him against his chest. The baby's warmth seeped into him, grounding him. He adjusted the soft blanket around his son and stepped out of the bedroom into the cozy living room.
Elise was at the counter, her long auburn hair tied in a loose braid over one shoulder. She turned with a mug in hand, her bright green eyes lighting up at the sight of them. "There's my favorite duo! How's the little man this morning?"
"Still a sleepyhead," Do Hwan replied, his lips curving into a soft smile. He sat on the couch, gently positioning Eo Jun on a pillow by his side. "I think he knows it's his first day home. He's saving his energy to make it memorable."
Elise laughed, setting the coffee mug down on the table. "I'd say he's earned the right to be spoiled." She looked at the baby, her expression softening. "It's amazing how far he's come. You both have."
Do Hwan nodded, his gaze lingering on his son. The memories of those harrowing weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit were still fresh, the beeping machines, the sterile smell of antiseptic, the nurses who worked tirelessly to keep Eo Jun alive. He exhaled deeply. "I didn't think we'd make it here," he admitted. "But we did."
"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for," Elise said gently, sitting down across from him. "And so is he."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the quiet punctuated by the soft hum of the heater. Do Hwan sipped his coffee, savoring the warmth that spread through him. He glanced at the small Christmas tree Elise had put up in the corner, its lights twinkling softly. It wasn't much, but it felt like a promise—a new beginning.
Later that day, the apartment filled with the cheerful sounds of Christmas music as they decorated the tree. Elise handed Eo Jun a soft, felt ornament shaped like a star. "What do you think, little man?" she cooed, holding it up. "This one's for you."
Do Hwan guided Eo Jun's tiny hand to touch the star, then helped hang it on the lowest branch. He snapped a photo on his old, scratched phone—a memory to treasure.
As night fell, the tree glowed softly in the corner, its lights twinkling like distant stars. Do Hwan sat on the couch, holding Eo Jun close, his heart heavy with gratitude and hope.
For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to dream of a future—a stable home, a growing child, and a life where neither of them would ever have to run again.
