Gemotions

The air in the art studio was thick with the smell of turpentine and paint. Amelia found the hidden notebook, the one where her boyfriend, Ethan, had been scribbling away for months. He had spent less and less time with her. He'd always claimed to be "working," but now she understood what that really meant. *About her*.

She brushed at her hair, the movement jerky. She scanned the room, each canvas a silent testament to his absence, to the secret world she had not been privy to. The clock on the wall mocked her with its relentless, steady rhythm. He had gone to the coffee shop down the street. It was his usual haunt. He said it was for inspiration.

She couldn’t stand the silence. A plan formed in her head. She had to know how she was represented.