Gemotions

The key felt heavy in Leo's hand, cold against his skin. He shoved it into the lock of the front door, the tumblers clicking with a hollow sound that echoed in the sudden quiet of the hallway. He hadn't been here since… well, since everything fell apart. Dust motes danced in the lone sunbeam slicing through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the stillness of the room, a stillness that mirrored the hollowness inside him.

His sister, Clara, was already inside, bustling about like a tiny whirlwind, pointing out the chipped paint and peeling wallpaper. "We're going to need to gut this place," she was saying, her voice brimming with her usual energy. Leo just nodded, unable to meet her gaze. He felt a leaden weight in his chest, a constant pressure that made each breath a laborious task.

He wandered into the kitchen, the scent of lavender and lemon still clinging faintly to the air, a ghost of his grandmother's presence. He ran a hand over the smooth, cool countertop, remembering her hand resting there, guiding him through his first attempts at baking. The absence was a physical ache, a raw space within him that he couldn't quite name.