Gemotions

The scent of damp earth and blooming roses filled Clara's tiny garden. The roses were her joy, her solace, and now, he'd taken her joy and put it on his skin. She'd been in a creative slump for weeks, a dark cloud hanging over her. Now, standing across from him, looking at the tattoo he'd gotten of her painting “Rose's Embrace”, the world felt different.

He sat on a small stone bench, nervously picking at a loose thread on his jeans. "It means a great deal to me," he mumbled, refusing to make eye contact. Clara, in turn, felt her heart expand.

She approached him and laid a hand gently on his arm. The tattoo was gorgeous. "You know,” she whispered, “you've given me something far more valuable than you could know.” The warmth that flooded her was almost unbearable.