Gemotions

Eliza walked into the living room, ready to complain about the terrible traffic. There was David, sprawled on the sofa, headphones on. But as she got closer, she heard snatches of Mandarin. It was him. He was actually *speaking* it. She stopped dead, her bag slipping from her shoulder. Her mouth went dry.

Her mother had always stressed the importance of preserving their heritage. Eliza, caught up in work and life, had let her Mandarin slide. He was reading aloud, his tone hesitant but increasingly confident, the characters on the screen mirroring the ones her mother used to trace on her palm. She felt a warmth spread through her chest.

He paused, looked up, and saw her. His eyes widened slightly.

"Ni hao," he said, a sheepish grin appearing.

Eliza felt a sudden, powerful urge to cry. She managed a watery laugh. "You... you did this?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly. She walked over and rested her head on his shoulder.