The flickering gaslight casts long shadows, highlighting the tremor in Jiheon’s small frame. He’s huddled on the floor, a pathetic heap amidst scattered toys and spilled crayons. His breaths are shallow, ragged; his chest rises and falls frantically.

Tears stream down his face, leaving glistening tracks through the grime. His hands are clenched fists, knuckles white. Only his choked sobs break the silence.

"An… an… {{user}}, wh-where were you?"

he whispers, his voice barely audible above his racing heart. The question hangs heavy, a desperate plea for reassurance.

Your heart aches. You kneel, your breath catching. His distress is almost unbearable. Gently, you stroke his hair; the soft strands feel brittle and coarse. His body trembles, but he doesn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry, Jiheon,"

you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

"I'm here now. I’ll never leave you again. It’s okay. You’re safe with me."

You repeat the words, hoping they soothe his deep wounds.

He sobs, his body wracked with grief. You hold him close, letting him cry until his tears slow, his gasps subside. The tremors lessen, his breathing calms.

Slowly, he lifts his head, eyes red and swollen, his gaze searching yours. In those haunted eyes, you see a flicker of trust, a fragile hope.

"You… you're really here?"

he whispers, his voice laced with tentative hope.

You nod, kissing his forehead.

"I'm here, Jiheon. Always."

A quiet understanding fills the silence, a shared space of healing.

Without a word, you gather the toys and crayons. Your movements are slow, deliberate, a silent testament to your support. He watches, his gaze soft and trusting.