Gemotions

A tremor ran through Amelia as she stared at the photograph. A woman, a stranger, but with *her* "Ephemeral Bloom" inked onto her forearm. The intricate linework, the soft washes of color - undeniable. It was a perfect copy, yet, somehow, wrong. Her breath hitched. She felt suddenly chilled, despite the late summer heat.

She ran a hand through her already messy hair, her fingers snagging. This was… odd. A strange sensation, like the world had tilted on its axis. She’d spent months on that piece. Now, it was etched permanently onto another person’s skin.

The image swam before her eyes. This person. This stranger. Did they understand the hours, the intent, the soul she'd poured into the painting? A flicker of unease danced in her stomach.