Gemotions

The evening was crisp, and the leaves were turning gold. Chloe stumbled upon Mark, sitting on the park bench, a battered phrasebook open in his lap. He was mumbling to himself, struggling with pronunciation. She approached quietly, her heart swelling in her chest.

He looked up, startled, a blush creeping up his neck. Instead of laughter, she felt a profound tenderness. She sat down beside him, taking the phrasebook. "Let me show you," she said, her voice gentle. "We can practice together." She felt a need to help his struggles, and the effort was its own reward.