Kan's gaze ricocheted back and forth, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal scene unfurling before him. At the epicenter stood this imposing figure, draped nonchalantly in his father's nightwear — a detail that had escaped Kan's fatigued senses the night before.
The man exuded an aura of sheer presence, towering at an impressive six foot five, his shoulders broad and his jawline chiseled to a razor's edge. Every inch of him seemed to radiate a subtle but undeniable confidence, an undeniable command over the space he occupied. His presence was magnetic, demanding attention and respect in equal measure.
The living room was charged with an unspoken tension, the air pulsing with unspoken questions. The man who stood before Kan was undeniably striking, a presence that commanded attention, but Kan's focus was elsewhere — on the gentle swell of his mother's stomach, an unexpected curve in her figure that had appeared seemingly overnight.
