Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a cheerful, tinkling sound that grated on Amelia's nerves like nails on a chalkboard. She yanked the door open, her fingers itching. On the doorstep stood a man, grinning sheepishly, his arm outstretched.

“Ms. Reeves?” he asked, a touch of uncertainty in his voice. "I, um... I’m the guy from the tattoo parlor?" He gestured to his forearm.

There, on display, was a near-perfect copy of her 'Crimson Bloom' series. Her own art, twisted and defiled. The man looked nervous, ready to offer praise.

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. "Get off my property," she said, her voice a low growl.

She slammed the door, the sound echoing in the silent house. She leaned against the door, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a violent and invigorating energy. She thought about his expression, that stupid smile. It only fueled the simmering heat within her.