Gemotions

Eliza found herself perpetually rearranging the furniture in her grandmother’s kitchen, as if this simple act would somehow rearrange her life. This house was a blank canvas, and her brother, Thomas, was the painter she longed to observe. He’d always been the artistic one, and now, suddenly, everything he did filled her with a strange, dizzying warmth.

She watched him sketching in the garden, the pen scratching against the paper a rhythmic counterpoint to the buzzing of bees. Each line he made seemed to possess a vibrant energy she couldn't tear her eyes from. A thrill went through her when he looked up and met her gaze.

"What do you think?" he asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips. His words made her feel hot.

"It's beautiful," she said, her voice breathy. She felt as though she could stare at his work forever, feel the heat of his presence for an eternity. The scent of linseed oil and old wood seemed to mingle in the air, creating a heady mix.