Gemotions

The medication had been administered. He watched the needle being withdrawn, a tiny, almost imperceptible prick. The nurse, a woman named Clara, smiled kindly. He took a deep breath. He hated needles, but in this moment, they represented hope.

Later, he found her in the cafeteria, sipping tea, just as he knew he would.

“I was reading,” she said, gesturing to the book in her lap. “About the latest research. Things are looking… promising.”

He simply nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat. The future was still uncertain, but the path was far less desolate with her by his side.