Looking at a couple on the street — smiles on their faces, hands intertwined, chatting as if the world were perfect — stood a man with tired eyes. He let out a deep sigh and lowered his gaze to the wet pavement.
"This is so unfair…" he muttered, his voice sounding older than his face suggested. His thick, faded clothes seemed to scream: "I gave up."
The rain began to fall.
"Time to go home," he said, standing up with a defeated sigh. He looked around — the park was empty. Even the couple was gone.
"If I were handsome... or rich... my life would definitely be different. Sleeping with a new woman every night would be child's play."
The thought made him laugh — bitterly, soaked in frustration.
"Life is so easy for women… just a pretty face and boom: doors open. Beds. Bank accounts."
Drowned in his delusions, he crossed the street without looking. The sound of tires slicing through rainwater was the last thing he heard.
Headlights.Impact.
At 24 years old, Matheus Smith died.
When he opened his eyes, everything was white. The ceiling. The walls. Sterile silence. Doctors passed by in a hurry, ignoring his confusion. He tried to move... and felt something was off.
The hands touching his body weren't his. They were smaller. Softer. Paler.
"What the fuck…?"
His voice. It was high. Soft. Feminine, even?
He sprang up, but the fragile body collapsed before taking two steps. He hit the floor with a dull thud.
"Ow..." he muttered. That voice again.
The door clicked open.
"Oh my God… I need more sleep, I'm losing my beauty," said a lazy, smooth male voice.
Matheus looked up and saw a handsome man with delicate features and fair skin entering the room. Upon seeing him on the floor, he rushed over.
"Hey! Are you okay?"
Without waiting for an answer, the man helped him up and carefully placed him back on the bed.
"Yeah… thanks."
"Good. I'm Luka, your nurse. Wait here, I'll get the doctor!"
He ran out, and Matheus remained… trying to understand where he was. Who he was. What had happened.
He took a deep breath and observed the room. Small, but cozy. Soft light, clean sheets, a corner lamp giving off a warm glow. On the desk, violet flowers and a crushed cigarette beside a photograph.
In the photo, four people. Three women and one boy. All beautiful. Unbelievably beautiful.
He turned his head and came face-to-face with a mirror, strategically placed in front of him.
What he saw made his breath catch.
It wasn't him.
It was a boy. Young. Stunning. White hair, short and stylishly messy. Serene blue eyes, almost sad. Pale skin. Fine, delicate, almost androgynous features.
When he moved his hands, the reflection followed.
A shiver ran down his spine.
He picked up the photo from the desk. Looked at the boy in it. Then at the mirror. Then back at the photo.
"This boy… is that me?"
The door opened again.
A mature woman walked in, looking to be in her early thirties. Calm eyes, a gentle smile. Brown hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.
"I'm so glad you're awake, Matheus. You had your whole family worried…" she said in a sweet, caring tone, choosing her words like she didn't want to hurt him.
"Where am I?" he managed to ask.
"The hospital, of course. Where else would you be?" she smiled, but her face quickly turned serious. "You scared us. You could've died from that fall down the stairs."
"Stairs? I... fell?"
"You don't remember what happened?" She stepped closer, worry in her eyes.
"It's all... blurry. I'm getting flashes, but… nothing clear."
"And your name? Do you remember?"
"Matheus… Bevan," he said without thinking. It came naturally. Like it had always been his.
"And your mother's name?"
"...Lena Bevan."
He looked at the photo again. The woman with white hair and violet eyes. Gorgeous. Unbelievably gorgeous. A body that could only be described as sinful. The very definition of a MILF.
And she was his mother.
"Matheus? Are you listening to me?" The doctor pulled him back from his mental fog.
"Yeah, yeah…"
"All right. I'll let you rest. Your mom's on her way," she said, adjusting her coat. "Oh, and just call me Lúcia, okay? No need for formalities."
"Okay… Lúcia."
She left with the nurse. Silence returned.
Matheus looked at the mirror again.
That face…
One word echoed in his mind:
Transmigration.
It was crazy. But it was the only explanation. He had been reborn. In another body. In another life.
And now… he was beautiful.
A smile escaped his lips. For the first time in years, he felt… privileged.
If this was a second chance, he had no intention of wasting it.
The door burst open.
She walked in.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
Panting, sweaty, violet eyes glistening, her white hair sticking to pale skin. Her chest heaved, and her enormous breasts threatened to burst from her tight dress.
"My baby!"
She rushed over and hugged him. Tight. So tight his face was buried between her breasts.
Warm. Soft. Tense.
Not a bad way to die, he thought, suffocating.
She was crying.
"You scared Mommy... Why did you get hurt, sweetheart? I should've replaced that damn staircase ages ago!"
Matheus simply returned the hug, lightly patting her back. Dazed. Confused. Turned on.
"Mom… you're suffocating me."
She stopped. Pulled back. Looked into his eyes — and the tears returned even harder.
"What… what did you just call me?"
"I... I called you 'Mom.'"
Her scream was like an emotional orgasm.
"MY BABY CALLED ME MOMMY AGAIN!"
She hugged him even tighter, grinning like a woman madly in love.
"I missed that so much..." she whispered. "You stopped calling me that… just 'old lady' now. It hurt so much... Don't stop, okay? Call me Mommy until you're thirty!"
Matheus sighed.
"Mom… sit down, please. You're crushing me."
She laughed and sat in the armchair, violet eyes still full of tenderness.
"What happened to me?" he asked.
"You and your sister were arguing. When you went down the stairs, you tripped and fell. I already talked to her. It was all her fault. If she hadn't upset you…"
Matheus frowned.
Siblings fight. No one pushed anyone. So why was she so desperate to find someone to blame?
This body…
Was it pampered its whole life?
"I want to go home. I don't like hospitals."
She hesitated, touching his hand.
"You just woke up… We need to make sure you're okay."
He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. Looked into her eyes with softness.
"Please, Mommy…"
She melted.
"I'll see what I can do, okay?" she whispered, kissing his palm. "I'll be right back, baby."
"Come back soon, Mommy."
The door closed.
Silence returned.
Matheus stared at the ceiling.
This mother...
This woman...
Had a body made for sin.
And a heart begging to be taken.