ATong woke up slowly, blinking his sleepy eyes as morning light slipped into the room. The space beside him was empty. No warm arm, no familiar heartbeat. For a moment, he stayed very still, listening. Silence answered him back. He was alone.
Confusion crossed his tiny face. He lifted his head, looked left, then right. His lower lip trembled slightly, but instead of crying right away, ATong did something unexpected. He stuck out his little tongue, long and wiggly, like it had a mind of its own. It flicked in and out, tasting the air, as if searching for comfort.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, tongue still moving in funny circles. It was his magic tongue, the one that appeared whenever his feelings mixed together. Lonely, sleepy, curious, and a little worried. He made soft sounds, not cries yet, just questions whispered into the quiet room.
ATong crawled forward, paused, then stuck his tongue out again, wider this time. The sight was so cute it almost hid the sadness underneath. He was trying to stay brave. His small hand tapped the mattress, hoping Mom would suddenly appear like always.
Minutes passed. His tongue slowed. His eyes grew shiny. He let out a tiny whimper, then another. The cuteness faded into need. Just as his face scrunched up for a real cry, footsteps came closer.
The door opened.
ATong froze, then his tongue popped out one last time in surprise. His eyes lit up. A smile spread across his face before the tears could fall. He squealed happily, arms reaching out, tongue wiggling with excitement.
Mom rushed over, scooping him up, apologizing softly. ATong pressed his face into her chest, tongue finally resting. The loneliness disappeared instantly, replaced by warmth and safety.
Waking up alone had scared him, but love returned quickly. In that small moment, ATong showed how even fear can look adorable, and how the simplest reunion can turn worry into joy, especially when a magic tongue leads the way back to comfort.
