Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the overgrown garden. Leo stretched, the muscles in his back sighing with the movement. He’d spent the last hour weeding the roses, his fingers dusted with earth, his brow damp with a light sweat. He ran a hand across his forehead, then looked out at the rolling hills. The air was still and quiet, filled only with the faint chirping of crickets.

He strolled into the kitchen, the scent of lavender and old wood greeting him. His sister, Clara, was at the counter, humming a tuneless melody as she arranged wildflowers in a mason jar. "Smells good in here," he said, and she simply smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

He poured himself a glass of water, the cool glass soothing against his palm. He took a long drink, feeling the chill spread through him. Later, they would sit on the porch swing and watch the stars appear.