Ilyan's gaze went to Irene's hand that stayed on his shoulder. He had not expected her to be able to catch his misery as well as she has caught.
Though he himself had ended up a glimpse of that in the hospital, it was nothing but a weak moment. A mere weak moment. He had not intended to bring things in front of her.
Her hand slipped from his shoulder to his palms that were still trembling. "I don't mean to force you if that's something too intimate for you to talk about to me, Ilyan but I just… I just…" Her voice faltered as she failed to come up with a reason that she could give to express her concern. Stuck between not wanting to interfere in his personal affairs and not wanting to leave him to deal with the troubles in his life alone, she battled a conflict. She stood up from the couch and had taken just a step when he curled his fingers around her wrist.
"Mom is dying…"
