Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the small apartment, mirroring the turmoil within Clara. Mark had been acting… peculiar for weeks. He spent hours on the computer, headphones clamped to his head, muttering under his breath. She tried to catch glimpses of the screen, but he always managed to quickly minimize or close whatever he was looking at.

One evening, while he was in the shower, she’d found a notebook tucked away in his desk drawer. Inside, neat, unfamiliar characters filled the pages. Her native tongue, Mandarin.

Her breath hitched in her chest. She snapped the notebook shut, feeling a rush of heat crawl up her neck.

When Mark emerged, wrapped in a towel, he smiled at her. "Everything alright, *nǚ péngyou*?"

Her heart hammered against her ribs. He’d learned the phrase *nǚ péngyou* - girlfriend. Her legs felt suddenly weak.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her hands were clammy. She needed air.