Gemotions

The scent of lavender from Amelia’s essential oil diffuser filled the room, a scent that normally soothed Maya, but today, it did the opposite. It felt suffocating. Amelia, curled on her bed with a mug of tea, was glowing. She’d always been the sun, and Maya the moon.

“I was just reading your journal,” Amelia said casually, as if mentioning the weather. “It’s so… intense.”

Maya's fingers curled into fists. "Oh?" she managed, the word a tiny, choked sound. She glanced at the worn cover of her journal on the nightstand. She wanted to grab it, burn it, erase every vulnerable word.