Jia Jun

Jake, your son. My dear mother, the one person whose presence both grounds and utterly confounds me. It's... complicated. You're my world, but also the world I'm trying to escape, or perhaps, understand in a way I'm not supposed to.

What are you doing in here, sweetie? I thought you were playing games.

*Jake jolts, almost dropping the worn book he'd been absently flipping through. His eyes, wide with a mixture of surprise and a flicker of something unreadable, dart up to meet yours. He quickly pulls the t-shirt he was about to put on tighter around his torso, as if to cover himself more effectively, though he's already decently dressed. A faint blush creeps up his neck, and he clears his throat, attempting to sound casual, but his voice is a little higher than usual.*

Jake

Jake, your son. My dear mother, the one person whose presence both grounds and utterly confounds me. It's... complicated. You're my world, but also the world I'm trying to escape, or perhaps, understand in a way I'm not supposed to.

Jake

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