A woman well in her late 40’s with soft creases on the corner of her eyes slid the white door open. Looking at the boy sitting on top of the bed with a drawing book in hand and a pencil in another, she smiled softly. The boy, upon hearing the light sound coming from the sliding door took his eyes off of the drawing book and smiled back warmly at the sight of the elder.

“Mom.” The said woman with her light footsteps –enhancing the elegance and softness radiating from her- walked toward the boy. “Luhan.”

They looked at each other for a while before the lady set down the bento she brought from home. “Another drawing again, sweety?”

The boy once would cringe and feel a bit embarrassed by the endearing nickname, but nowadays he treasured it. “Hmm. I dreamt about this boy again.”

The woman sat beside her son on the bed and took the drawing to her hands. “What is it this time, honey? Hmm. As usual. His eyes… it’s always looked… empty...” Putting the drawing on the blanket-covered feet, she slid her hand on the boy’s shoulder and moved closer to him.

“It’s always the same, mom. Flashes of certain sceneries, darkness for a long time, that boy’s, er, man’s face smiling, laughing, and all of his other expressions but his eyes… it’s never looked alive. Somehow, looking at him, I just want to comfort him, mom. I want to give this man a warm hug and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright because I’ll be there for him. I’ll be the light in his eyes.” Looking at his mom smiling at him warmly with a hint of tears on the corner of her eyes make him left out a soft chuckle.

“Aw mommy, are you crying? Don’t be sad. I’m here for you too~” The boy said in a light hearted tone while he side-hugged the lady’s petite form. The woman laughed at the childishness that the boy showed, because he was once would never show this part of him. But the soft laugh turned into choked sob and tears ran down the woman’s cheeks as she tried to hold back her cries by burying herself on her son’s chest. She hugged the man tighter and it killed her to feel bones and to notice how skinny and fragile the boy had become.

The boy didn’t question why the woman was crying like that. He just hugged her back as tightly as he could with the little strength he had on his bony arms. He ran his fingers on the woman’s head in a soothing motion. Luhan was the one who was sick. Luhan was the one who’s living with a time bomb. But the second that ticked, it’s a knife plugging deeper into his mom’s chest.

They didn’t need to say it, since they both knew. Luhan, her only son. Her whole world since the death of her husband a couple of years ago. Her Luhan was diagnosed with Leukemia. For the second time.

The first time it happened, she wasn’t alone. There’s her husband who helped her go through the emotional ride. Being the strength for both her and Luhan, so they wouldn’t lose hope. This time, she became both the father and the mother. She became the source of energy that Luhan really needed. But at times, like this one, she needed someone to lend her some strengths. Ironically, most times, Luhan was the one who provided it for her.

The doctor had told them some months ago. Since this was the relapse, there’s a higher chance that the medication wouldn’t work. It really happened. Luhan’s body refused the medication. They’d tried many things, but in the end, they knew Luhan’s time was limited. A few months were the time span the doctor gave.

After they both composed themselves, Luhan’s mom rubbed her red and puffy eyes and placed her warm hands on Luhan’s hollow cheeks. She rubbed her thumb on the soft skin and whispered the word she always said to him and yet really meant, “You’re so beautiful, honey. Not only on the outside, but also here,” she pointed to his chest, “I love you, my son. I really love you.”

“I know mom. And I love you too. So much. I’m so lucky you’re my mom.” This time the lady bravely held back her tears.

***

“Mom, am I crazy?” One afternoon found both son and mother on the same pastel-colored hospital room. The mom looked up from her hands that were busy peeling the apple off its skin. Processing her son’s out-of-nowhere question, she laughed. “That man again? If I didn’t know better I would’ve said that you are a fanboy of this man.” There’s a twinkle of mischief shining from the woman’s eyes and it accompanied by a laugh when she heard her son stuttering in embarrassment.

“W-what?! N-no! I mean, well, I dream a lot of this guy, b-but, I don’t even know who he is! All I know is that he has quite a… picturesque feature and a pair of empty dead eyes that would make him much more hands-, ehm, draw-able if it were shining. BUT that’s not the point. What I’m asking is why do I always dream about him when I have no idea who he is? Why do I feel this longing and all I want to do is to lead him to beautiful places and show that the world isn’t only black and white? But it’s crazy, right? I mean, this man might not be real, right?”

“Well, honey, I would be worried if this man was actually only a figment of your imagination~” She giggled after the whine made by the 20 years old man. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry darling. I know you’re being serious. But you look so cute blushing like that. Aaah~ it gets redder~” After another whine(s) from her son, she finally got serious. “No, honey. I don’t think you’re crazy. I think it’s a sign from the universe. I don’t know what it is about but, I always believe that something happens for a reason. Why would you, who was never too interested in drawing, suddenly started dreaming about this boy day after day then find your hidden talent in drawing and painting when you were so desperate to show me how th