Gemotions

The antique music box gleamed under the afternoon sun, its inlaid mother-of-pearl catching the light. Aunt Clara clutched it, her fingers tracing the intricate floral patterns. It had been her grandmother's, a treasure passed down. Little Lily, her niece, stared up at her, wide-eyed. "Can I see it, Aunt Clara?" Clara tightened her grip. "It's… delicate, darling," she said, her voice strained.

Lily, undeterred, pointed at a drawing on the fridge. A fantastical creature with mismatched wings and a mischievous grin. "That's Sparklewing!" she announced proudly. "He comes to visit me." Clara glanced at the drawing, a sudden tightening in her chest. Sparklewing. *Her* Sparklewing. From her childhood.

A flicker of unease crossed her features. She looked back at the drawing, a flash of red in her cheeks. Why did Lily have him? The music box, the drawing, everything suddenly felt like it belonged only to her. She wanted to keep it all, to own it.