Juna snatched the soup bowl off the tray before it could be carried away, slopping broth across her own wrist.
"He might wake up hungry," she snapped, both hands clamped around the bowl despite the sting.
Loccy kept her tray steady beneath the bowl, long ears tilting back, "Then we heat it again instead of cooking him another dinner every watch."
"It went cold."
"So did mine, while I watched you watch his spoon."
The spoon rested untouched beside Hajin's pallet, its handle pointing toward the hand Juna kept checking whenever his breathing changed. His chest rose easily beneath the blanket, but neither their squabble nor the spilled broth brought his eyes open again.
"You can eat this," she insisted, tilting the tray beneath the bowl instead of tugging harder.
"I made it for him."
"And he'd whine for a week if you starved beside a full bowl," she said, nose twitching, "you know he would."
Juna loosened her fingers enough for the tray to take the weight.
