Gemotions

The chipped paint on the park bench seemed to mock Silas. He kept fidgeting, picking at the loose flakes, the gritty texture a strange comfort. He’d seen Amelia at the farmer’s market, browsing the tomatoes. He knew he should approach, but the thought of it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

He finally stood, his legs feeling shaky. He took a few deep breaths, the scent of fresh cut grass and damp earth doing little to settle his nerves. His heart was hammering. He walked towards the stall. Amelia was deep in conversation with a vendor, her face animated.

"Amelia," he started, his voice a little too loud. She turned, a polite smile on her face. Her brow furrowed. "Do I know you?" she asked, her voice friendly, but blank. Silas felt his face go hot.

He stammered, "It's Silas. Silas Blackwood. We… we used to build forts in the woods behind your house." He felt lightheaded.