Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a stark contrast to the lightness blossoming in his chest every time he glanced at Sarah, who was across the room, animatedly chatting with Mom's colleagues. He fiddled with the cord, a nervous habit he hadn't realized he had until just now. His palms were slick.

He cleared his throat, the sound amplified and echoing through the ballroom. His mother beamed at him from the head table. He had to say something, anything, but his mind had short-circuited. He wished he'd paid more attention to the speech he'd written.

His gaze drifted back to Sarah. The way the light caught her hair, the way she laughed… it was utterly distracting. He swallowed, trying to force the words out. He stammered a greeting, his voice cracking slightly.

"So… um… Mom," he finally managed, hoping he didn't sound like a complete idiot. He could feel the blood rushing to his face.