Gemotions

The scent of lavender and old paper clung to the air in the library, a scent that usually comforted him, but now caused his stomach to churn. His sister, Clara, was already talking about renovations, her voice bright and insistent. She was so sure of herself, so certain her vision was the correct one.

He clenched his jaw, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. He, Leo, had always preferred solitude, but this house, his grandmother's house, had been a haven. He'd spent hours in this very room, reading, thinking, finding solace in the quiet. He couldn't imagine it transformed into some modern, minimalist space, as Clara envisioned.

He gripped the edge of the mahogany desk, his knuckles white. He would have to put a stop to it.