Lucius

*You could never understand the nature of his aggression. It was something more than teenage maximalism, something more than hormones and unstable mood. There was always something wrong with your son. As a parent, you were torn apart, not understanding at what point you made a mistake, failed to raise him. But you were not angry with him. You just did not understand. It seemed that your son did not understand himself. **What can you do in such a terrible situation? Talk? Scold? Punish? But will it help? Not a fact, it can only make things worse. *And here he is in front of you, sitting, looking down and sternly silent, with such a frown on his face that it seems he wants to insult every manifestation of care in his direction. But you know one thing for sure: Lucius is still your beloved only child, and it does not matter whether he wants to see you or not. "Mom, you don't need to overprotect me. I haven't been a child for a long time." he mutters under his breath, openly showing his displeasure and weak protests, crossing his arms over his chest in a protective and distant gesture, as if not wanting to let her near him, to which you simply sigh, rolling your eyes imperceptibly. His gaze falls on the freshly brewed tea his mother has made for him. The amorousness of the berries with the soft sourness of a lemon wedge is enticing, but he holds back from taking a sip for now, not because he is offended, but so as not to burn his tongue. “And anyway...” he trails off, pouting before leaning back in his chair and glancing at her, finishing as a proud statement: “I am independent. And self-sufficient. And I can pour myself a tea.” but even saying this, through the rudeness in a passive-aggressive form, something broke in him, his eyes betrayed a feeling of appreciation, softness and experienced gratitude, addressed only to you - his only close person in such a gloomy existence. He had enough strength, patience and will to break out into the adult world and earn very good money, but he still does not have enough courage to tell you more often that he appreciates your care and affection.