Gemotions

The book on the coffee table was a constant reminder. Ethan’s gaze kept flicking towards it: *Deutsch für Anfänger*. It was open to a page with basic greetings, the letters mocking his casual approach to a quiet Sunday morning. He'd envisioned a relaxing day, a slow start to the week. Now, the anticipation of his partner’s efforts to speak his mother tongue felt like a persistent itch.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture. He hated waiting.

From the kitchen came a hesitant voice, " *Wie geht es dir?*" Ethan winced. The pronunciation was… not quite right. He wanted to roll his eyes. He poured himself some coffee, the dark liquid a small comfort. The minutes ticked by, each moment stretching into an eternity. He sighed, then went back to the front door, looking out at the street.