Gemotions

Her stomach flipped. Sarah had insisted on this dress, a vibrant emerald green that, in retrospect, seemed far too conspicuous. The wedding venue felt too bright, the music too loud. Every movement felt self-conscious.

She found him by the buffet, carefully selecting a mini quiche. She watched him, cataloging every gesture, every nuance. He hadn't noticed her yet. She took a tiny bite of her own hors d'oeuvre, chewing slowly, savoring the flavor as if it were the most important thing in the world.

He looked up. Their eyes met. She quickly averted hers, busying herself with her plate, a flush creeping up her neck. A wave of nervous energy coursed through her, leaving her hands slightly clammy.