Gemotions

The pages of old books crinkled as he carefully turned them, savoring the scent of aged paper. For as long as he could remember, his father had been a book collector. Now, his son, Ethan, was building his own collection, seeking out first editions with a discerning eye. He’d see Ethan in the study, hunched over a volume, his brow furrowed in concentration. A warmth would spread through his chest. He would enter the room and place his hand on his son's shoulder. "That's a good one," he'd say. He'd feel a prickle in his eye.