Gemotions

He watched his son, Leo, crouched in the dirt, completely absorbed. For years, Thomas had built miniature castles, intricate models, escaping into the hobby. Now, Leo had taken up the craft with the same, intense focus. Thomas thought, “He is a marvel.” The afternoon sun warmed his face as he observed Leo meticulously placing tiny cobblestones. A sharp, sweet sensation bloomed in his chest. He bent down and examined the tiny model castle. “That tower is perfect, Leo,” he said, his voice husky. He ruffled Leo’s hair, his fingers lingering longer than usual.