Gemotions

He arrived home earlier than usual, hoping to catch her by surprise. He found her humming, sitting on the balcony, and as he drew near, he heard the words. It was Icelandic, a language he barely knew, but the intonation and rhythm was clear. Her voice was gentle, almost musical, and he froze.

He leaned against the doorframe, suddenly feeling like an intruder in his own home. He wanted to understand. He wanted to scream.

He didn't dare speak. He remained silent, letting the music of her words wash over him, a tide of worry and confusion rising in his chest. A cold shiver ran through his body. He retreated back into the house, and he didn't know what to do next.