Gemotions

The gallery's opening was a blur of champagne flutes and hushed whispers. Elara, however, navigated the throng like a seasoned diplomat, her head held high. A painting of hers, a vibrant explosion of crimson and gold, dominated one wall. She knew it, instantly, a familiar tingle crawling up her spine. Someone must have taken it. It was exhilarating, a silent vindication of her passion.

Her smile was dazzling, reaching out to the room. She glided over to the wall, her gaze fixing on her work. Not a single alteration had been made, the brushstrokes bold and unapologetic, just as she'd left them.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" a voice purred behind her. She turned, meeting the appreciative eyes of the gallery owner. "We couldn’t resist. Such raw energy." Elara simply inclined her head, the unspoken acknowledgment shimmering between them.