Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital made her want to bolt. She was alone, in a city she didn’t know, facing a future she couldn't comprehend. She fiddled with the loose thread of her sweater, a nervous habit she’d had since childhood.

A young man sat beside her, his face a mask of controlled composure. His every movement was deliberate, each breath shallow. His gaze flickered to her, then quickly away.

"They said it was very rare," he stated, his voice flat. "That… that there weren't many of us." The admission was almost a confession. She saw the uncertainty in his eyes, a mirror of her own unease.