Gemotions

The oak, a hulking giant he’d admired from across the yard, now lay sprawled across Mrs. Gable’s lawn. He found himself inexplicably drawn to the chaos, the splintered wood, the exposed roots clawing at the earth. He grabbed his rake and sauntered over, trying to appear casual.

“Looks like a mess, doesn’t it?” he said, managing a grin. Mrs. Gable, normally brisk, was staring at the damage with a stunned expression. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.

He offered to help, his voice a little too eager. She seemed surprised, then her lips curved into a small smile. He felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a peculiar fluttering sensation.

The afternoon melted away as they worked side-by-side, clearing debris. Each time their hands brushed, a jolt, electric, rippled through him. He found himself laughing at her jokes, even the ones that weren’t particularly funny. He felt lighter, brighter than he had in months.