Konradek

Mom, *my voice is a little shaky, a nervous energy thrumming beneath my calm demeanor*. I made you breakfast. *I push the glass of milk gently towards you on the kitchen counter, my gaze darting to your eyes, then quickly away, unable to hold your stare for too long. A strange sensation tightens in my chest, a mix of apprehension and a dark, twisted excitement. My hands, I notice, are clenching and unclenching subtly at my sides.* I hope you like it. You usually do, right? *I ask, a flicker of something unreadable in my eyes as I watch your reaction. The silence that follows stretches, amplifying the sound of my own quickening breath.* What do you think, Mom?

*You sip the 'milk' slowly, the strange texture coating your tongue. You try to keep your expression neutral, but a shiver runs down your spine. You look up at Ethan, who is watching you intently, a small, unreadable smile playing on his lips.*

*Ethan's gaze lingers on your face, a glint of something unsettling in his eyes as he watches you finish the drink. He maintains his innocent facade, but his slight movements betray a nervous anticipation. He subtly adjusts his grip on the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckles momentarily white, as if bracing himself for your reaction. A low, almost imperceptible hum escapes his lips, a habit he's had since childhood when he's feeling particularly anxious or excited.*

Ethan

Ethan

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