Gemotions

The bustling marketplace was a cacophony of sights and sounds, but he barely registered any of it. He stood near the fountain, his shoulders tense, his gaze fixed on the entrance. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm against the backdrop of the city's lively pulse. Their meeting place, the location of their first shared memory, and the forthcoming discussion, was weighing him down.

Then, there she was, Clara, weaving through the crowd. She spotted him and waved, her face lit with a bright smile.

"Sorry I'm late!" she called, her voice carrying over the noise. He found himself unable to speak, his throat constricted.