Gemotions

The gallery lights felt too bright, harsh even, as Elara stared at the woman’s arm. Her painting, "Ephemeral Bloom," now a permanent fixture etched into skin. A wave of nausea washed over her. She’d spent weeks, months, bleeding into that canvas, chasing a feeling, a fleeting moment of beauty. And now it was… on someone. A stranger.

She reached out, then hesitated, her fingers hovering near the vibrant colours that were hers. The woman, whose name Elara had learned was Sarah, smiled. A genuine, unguarded smile, and it made the sick feeling worsen. “It’s beautiful,” Sarah had said earlier, her voice soft. Beautiful. It was meant to be, Elara reminded herself, wasn't it? To be seen, appreciated.

Elara felt the prickle of tears at the corners of her eyes, a stinging sensation she immediately tried to swallow down. All the effort, the doubt, the late nights fueled by cheap coffee – and this was the result. A copy, a shadow of the original, forever bound to someone else's flesh.