Gemotions

She was a ghost in the shimmering ballroom, a phantom. Liam scanned the crowd, feeling a low thrum of excitement that vibrated through him. He found her standing by the bar, her profile outlined against the flickering candlelight.

He moved towards her, each step an eternity. He ran his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't used in years. He realized he was subconsciously straightening his tie.

As he got closer, her perfume, a scent he remembered intimately, washed over him, and a memory resurfaced of them in a warm embrace. He was suddenly short of breath. He was afraid he would make a fool of himself.

"Maya," he started, his voice a little too loud. He couldn't stop the grin that stretched across his face. She turned, and her smile was like sunshine.