Gemotions

A sigh, soft as a kitten's purr, escaped David's lips as he leaned back in his comfortable armchair, the worn leather molding perfectly to his form. He had the fireplace lit, a low crackle and the scent of burning wood filling the air, and a book lay open in his lap, though he hadn’t turned the page in a while. A mug of Earl Grey, steamy and fragrant, sat on the small table next to him.

His gaze drifted to the framed picture on the mantelpiece—a collection of Lily's latest creations. Among the vibrant depictions of dinosaurs and space ships, a recurring figure stood out: a shadowy boy with a crown of thorns and a knowing glance. David’s pulse did not quicken, not this time. He just smiled.

“She’s a clever one, isn’t she?” he murmured to himself, the words swallowed by the comfortable silence of the room.