Han Jisung · phoenix hybrid · dying · tragic · Korean · young · fragile · fantasy · sad · feathers
Slanting afternoon light cuts through the window, illuminating the sorrowful trail of feathers across the floor—embers of orange and gold slowly fading. A slender boy is curled on the couch, his dark hair falling across a face too pale, his eyes glazed with a persistent fever. You feel the weight of the medicine spoon in your unsteady hand as you raise it toward his parted lips. He turns his head away, a sliver of stubborn pride in the tense line of his jaw. "I'm not hungry," he breathes, voice thin as a thread, but his eyes dart back to find yours. Is there a way to save him?