Gemotions

The musty scent of lavender and old paper clung to Leo, a scent that now seemed to him the most intoxicating perfume. He’d barely unpacked a box, yet he was already captivated. The house, with its rambling rooms and overgrown garden, whispered secrets of his grandmother, secrets he now felt compelled to unravel alongside his sister, Maya.

He kept finding himself gravitating toward the sunroom, where light streamed through the dusty windows, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. He’d catch himself staring at Maya as she traced her fingers along the worn spines of his grandmother’s books. A smile played on his lips, a secret, private joy.

“You’re awfully quiet, Leo,” Maya said, her voice a gentle melody. He hadn’t even realized he was staring. He quickly busied himself with a loose shutter, his cheeks flushing.

“Just… taking it all in,” he mumbled, his voice a little too high. The air seemed suddenly thick with possibility. He wanted to know everything about her, about this house, and, it seemed, about the way sunlight caught in her hair.