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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The snow fell gently over the quiet streets of Brussels, frosting the rooftops and blanketing the cobblestones in a pristine white. The festive warmth of Christmas lights twinkled against the cold, their golden glow painting the edges of the small apartment that Woo Do Hwan had come to call home. It wasn't much—just a modest flat with creaky floorboards and walls thin enough to hear the neighbors arguing in Flemish—but it was safe, and for Do Hwan, that was enough.
He lay stretched out on the worn fabric of the sofa, his head tipped back as the soft glow of a Christmas film flickered on the television. On his chest rested the fragile weight of his son, Eo Jun, bundled in a cozy blanket. His tiny body rose and fell with shallow breaths, his warm cheeks pressed against the steady thrum of his father's heartbeat. Elise, his roommate and now his closest friend, sat cross-legged at the other end of the couch, a steaming mug of hot chocolate cupped between her hands.
"I can't believe it's Christmas already," Elise said, her French-accented English breaking the comfortable silence. She tilted her head, her wavy chestnut hair catching the light. "It feels like you just got here yesterday."
Do Hwan gave a faint smile, his fingers brushing over the downy softness of Eo Jun's hair. "It feels longer," he admitted softly in Korean accented English. "This year has been... difficult."
Elise nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "You've been through more than most people can imagine, and yet..." She gestured to the tiny bundle on his chest. "Here you are, and here he is. You've done an amazing job, Do Hwan."
Before he could respond, a faint shudder ran through Eo Jun's small frame. Do Hwan stiffened immediately, his senses sharpening as he felt his son's body stiffen against him.
"Elise," he said quickly, his voice low but urgent. "It's happening again."
Elise set her mug down and moved closer as Eo Jun's tiny limbs began to jerk in small, rhythmic spasms. His head turned to the side, his mouth opening in a silent cry. It was a seizure, one of the many that had plagued the boy since his premature birth.
"Okay, I'll get the meds," Elise said, jumping to her feet and heading to the kitchen where the liquid anticonvulsant was kept. Do Hwan held Eo Jun close, his lips pressing to the boy's forehead as he whispered soft reassurances in Korean.
"It's okay, my baby. You're strong. Just like always." His voice was steady, though his heart ached with every spasm that wracked Eo Jun's tiny body.
Elise returned with the medication, and together they worked to administer the medication, Elise holding the vial while Do Hwan carefully placed the dropper against Eo Jun's lips. It wasn't long before the seizure began to subside, the jerking motions slowing until the boy was limp once more.
But even as the episode ended, the aftermath was just as difficult. Eo Jun whimpered softly, his face scrunching up as he squirmed in discomfort.
"He's agitated," Elise murmured, reaching out to gently rub his back. "Maybe hold him upright? Sometimes that helps."
Do Hwan nodded, shifting Eo Jun so that he was cradled against his shoulder. He rose from the sofa and began to pace the small living room, rocking the boy gently as he hummed a lullaby.
The baby whimpered, clearly restless and in pain. "Shh, shh. I know, sweetheart. I know," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his son's head. "You're so brave, Eo Jun. So strong."
The baby's cries ebbed slightly, though his body remained tense. Do Hwan shifted him gently, rocking him back and forth in his arms while murmuring soothing words in Korean. "It's been a long day, hasn't it? Let's get you to bed."
The minutes dragged on, but eventually, Eo Jun's cries quieted to soft sniffles, his tiny fingers clutching at his appa's shirt. Do Hwan continued to sway, exhaustion tugging at the corners of his mind, but he wouldn't stop until his son was at peace.
"You're a natural," Elise said from the sofa, her voice warm. "I don't know how you do it, but you always know what he needs."
Do Hwan gave a tired chuckle, his eyes glistening as he looked down at his son. "I don't know either," he admitted. "Every day, I feel like I'm just... guessing. Hoping I'm doing the right thing."
Elise smiled at him. "You are, Do Hwan. You're doing more than the right thing. Eo Jun is lucky to have you."
The compliment was almost too much. Do Hwan swallowed the lump in his throat, the weight of the past year crashing over him.
As the clock struck midnight, signaling the arrival of Christmas Day, the apartment fell quiet once more. The film on the television had ended, and Elise had curled up under a blanket, her breathing slow and steady.
Do Hwan sat down in the armchair, cradling Eo Jun as the snow continued to fall outside. He pressed a gentle kiss to his son's temple, his voice a whisper in the stillness.
"Merry Christmas, Eo Jun-ah."
"Do you think," Do Hwan began after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper, "he'll ever have a normal life? Make friends?"
Elise considered this for a moment. "Maybe not the kind of normal other kids have," she said carefully. "But he'll have his own kind of normal. And he'll have you. That's more than enough."
Do Hwan didn't respond right away, his fingers brushing over Eo Jun's downy hair. "I hope so," he said finally, his words heavy with both hope and doubt.
He carried Eo Jun into his bedroom, the warm glow of a small nightlight casting gentle shadows on the walls. The crib stood unused in the corner. Despite the doctors' recommendations, Do Hwan often let Eo Jun sleep on his chest—it was the only way the baby seemed truly comfortable, and the only way Do Hwan could keep his own anxieties at bay.
He changed Eo Jun into a fresh nappy and warm pyjama's, all the while humming a soft lullaby his mother used to sing to him. The memory brought a bittersweet pang, but he pushed it aside, focusing on his son. Once they were both ready for bed, Do Hwan settled under the covers, Eo Jun nestled securely against his chest.
"You know, Eo Jun," he whispered, his lips brushing the baby's soft hair, "this is our first Christmas together. I know it's not much—no big tree, no fancy presents—but it's ours. And I promise you, no matter how hard things get, I'll always do my best for you."
