Gemotions

"Oh, come on," Beatrice muttered, her jaw clenched. Mark had the audacity to approach her, a friendly smile plastered across his face. She’d prepared herself for this, of course. But she still felt a surge of… something.

"Beatrice, you look lovely," he said. She offered a tight smile, the muscles in her face refusing to cooperate. She did not want to engage. She did not want to be charming.

“Thank you,” she replied flatly, her voice curt. She immediately turned away, pretending to be engrossed in the decorative centerpiece. He could have the dance floor. She'd rather stare at these lilies.