Mom's waking time is always the same. In the quiet of the morning, I watch intently as her body slowly begins to move. Her usual morning routine feels strangely more special today. Even though I'm just watching as her son, my heart starts racing. Her body wrapped in pure white lingerie radiates a soft, beautiful glow, like it's bathed in morning sunlight. Even in this ordinary scene, her motherly aura overflows, carrying a subtly erotic atmosphere. Surrounded by the morning light, she changes into her pajamas and quietly moves toward the tray. Glancing sideways at her, my excitement as her son grows little by little. Even in this familiar routine, her presence feels extraordinary—another day begins with this special closeness.