Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled Amelia's apartment. She hummed a little tune, stretching luxuriously in her silk pajamas. Her hair, still slightly damp from her morning shower, cascaded down her back. Finding the manuscript tucked away in a drawer felt like a private joke the universe had played just for her. There was *her*, rendered in ink and paper, laid bare for the world (or, in this case, just her) to see.

She poured a cup, the steam curling around her face. She sat on the velvet chaise lounge, a picture of domestic tranquility, and opened the novel. The protagonist, a woman remarkably like herself, was portrayed as utterly captivating, a force of nature. It was flattering, genuinely so. She smiled, a genuine flash of teeth against her perfectly glossed lips.

A wave of amusement washed over her as she realized the author was none other than her partner, David. He'd been so nervous about his writing. Well, she thought, this was certainly a pleasant surprise. She knew she'd always been a source of inspiration for him.