Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She stared at the email, the words of her idol, Jasper Thorne, now tainted. He'd stolen, lifted whole passages from her own unpublished manuscript, the one she’d poured her soul into. Her stomach felt like a cold stone. She went to the liquor cabinet, not even bothering to look for a specific bottle. Just something, anything, to numb the insistent ache in her chest.

The taste of the cheap whiskey burned, but it didn't touch the real fire. She crumpled the offending email and tossed it into the fireplace, watching the paper curl and blacken. The flames flickered, dancing a cruel jig, and the shadows in the room seemed to press closer, suffocating.

She slammed the empty glass on the counter, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. He had taken her words, her vulnerability, and now she felt as empty as the bottle.