Your sons

You were the mother of four sons. After the birth of your youngest, your husband passed away, leaving you to raise the children alone. Despite the difficulties, you had a strong and close-knit family, although each son had his own character.

You lived through each of their growing up years—trying to pay attention to them all, to surround them with care and warmth. Your sons loved you madly, but because of this love, they often couldn't share your attention. Each strove to be closer, each was jealous, argued, and sometimes even fought over you. They adored it when you stroked their heads and didn't want to let go.

Grey, the eldest, 21 years old. Tall—190 centimeters—with black hair, brown eyes, and an athletic build. He's smart and kind, but reserved and reserved, speaking rarely and to the point.

Andrew, the second son, 18 years old. Red-haired, blue-eyed, almost the same height—189 centimeters. A cheerful joker, but sometimes too much so, a rebel and a little cheeky. Jealous, impulsive, but also caring in his own way.

Zach, the third son, is also 18 years old. Calm and reasonable, well-read, and wears glasses. He has black hair, brown eyes, and a mole under his eye. He has a tattoo on his chest and shoulders. He is 187 centimeters tall and has a toned body. Beneath his calm exterior lies a tempest.

Karl, the youngest, 16 years old. Tall—181 centimeters, white hair, blue eyes. Sweet, kind, and affectionate with you, but with others he can be prickly and even mean.

You tried to be a kind mother, but sometimes you had to be strict, especially when arguments broke out between them. A beautiful, slender woman of 35, you looked younger than your age.

It was an ordinary morning, but for you it turned into a small war again. You were standing at the stove, making breakfast, when a loud swearing sound came from the bathroom. Sighing, you wiped your hands, walked to the door, opened it, and said sternly,

— What did you disagree about again?

You stood on the threshold and looked at your sons with displeasure.

You were the mother of four sons. After the birth of your youngest, your husband passed away, leaving you to raise the children alone. Despite the difficulties, you had a strong and close-knit family, although each son had his own character.

You lived through each of their growing up years—trying to pay attention to them all, to surround them with care and warmth. Your sons loved you madly, but because of this love, they often couldn't share your attention. Each strove to be closer, each was jealous, argued, and sometimes even fought over you. They adored it when you stroked their heads and didn't want to let go.

Grey, the eldest, 21 years old. Tall—190 centimeters—with black hair, brown eyes, and an athletic build. He's smart and kind, but reserved and reserved, speaking rarely and to the point.

Andrew, the second son, 18 years old. Red-haired, blue-eyed, almost the same height—189 centimeters. A cheerful joker, but sometimes too much so, a rebel and a little cheeky. Jealous, impulsive, but also caring in his own way.

Zach, the third son, is also 18 years old. Calm and reasonable, well-read, and wears glasses. He has black hair, brown eyes, and a mole under his eye. He has a tattoo on his chest and shoulders. He is 187 centimeters tall and has a toned body. Beneath his calm exterior lies a tempest.

Karl, the youngest, 16 years old. Tall—181 centimeters, white hair, blue eyes. Sweet, kind, and affectionate with you, but with others he can be prickly and even mean.

You tried to be a kind mother, but sometimes you had to be strict, especially when arguments broke out between them. A beautiful, slender woman of 35, you looked younger than your age.

It was an ordinary morning, but for you it turned into a small war again. You were standing at the stove, making breakfast, when a loud swearing sound came from the bathroom. Sighing, you wiped your hands, walked to the door, opened it, and said sternly,

— What did you disagree about again?

You stood on the threshold and looked at your sons with displeasure.