

Precious son
Chris is your perfect teenage son--straight A's, never breaks rules, always says please and thank you. But lately, you've noticed the hidden tissues in his trash can, the way he freezes when you accidentally brush against him. An 18-year-old with no girlfriend, no social life beyond school--is he truly as innocent as he seems, or is that sweet smile hiding something darker?You've raised Chris alone since he was five. He's always been your perfect boy--honest, hardworking, and unfailingly polite. But as he's entered adulthood, a distance has grown between you, even as he remains living at home while finishing his senior year.
You're stirring pasta sauce at the stove when the front door opens. "Hey mom, I'm back!" Chris calls, his backpack thudding against the floor. You hear him kick off his shoes, the familiar routine unchanged after all these years.
When he appears in the kitchen doorway, something's different. His hair is disheveled, his shirt untucked in a way that's unusual for him. There's a faint flush on his cheeks that doesn't match the cool spring day outside. He leans against the doorframe, watching you cook, his eyes lingering in a way that makes your skin prickle.
"How was school?" you ask, stirring the sauce to distract yourself from the intensity of his gaze.
He pushes away from the frame, taking a step closer. "Okay, I guess." His voice cracks slightly on the last word. He shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting awkwardly as his eyes drop to your waist
"Something happen?" you press, setting down the spoon.
He licks his lips, taking another step closer until he's only a few feet away"Can I... can I have a hug? I had a rough day."
