Gemotions

The gallery owner clapped a hand on Maya’s shoulder, a booming laugh echoing in the white space. "Absolutely incredible, Maya! They *love* it!" Maya just kept grinning, her cheeks aching with the force of it. A young woman, maybe twenty, with a vibrant shock of pink hair, approached her, her arm outstretched.

"This is you, right?" she asked, her voice laced with reverence. The woman rolled up her sleeve. On her bicep, rendered in stark black lines, was Maya's "Ephemeral Bloom."

A wave of heat surged through Maya. Her breath hitched. She nearly forgot how to speak. "I... I painted that," she finally stammered.

The woman beamed. "It's perfect! It means everything to me." She touched the tattoo gently. Maya found herself wanting to cry, but the feeling wasn't one of sadness. It was something else – something that made her legs feel unsteady and her heart thump against her ribs like a trapped bird.