Gemotions

The world outside blurred into a hazy watercolor as rain fell steadily against the windowpane. Inside, the apartment was warm and cozy, the air thick with the smell of brewing coffee. She curled up on the sofa, a book open in her lap, but her gaze kept drifting towards the fireplace. A soft sigh escaped her.

She found a small, well-worn notebook tucked beneath the cushion she leaned against. It was his. She knew what it was; he'd been talking about it for months. A bucket list.

The first entry was: "Write a novel." She felt a surge of affection for him, for his ambition, for his quiet passion.