Gemotions

He had always been a writer, scribbling in notebooks, losing himself in worlds of his own creation. Now, she was the world he had created. Or, a version of her. Claire flipped the page again, her fingers tracing the words describing her laugh, the way she tilted her head when she was thinking. An unwelcome tremor went through her.

The details were almost unnervingly accurate. The novel portrayed her insecurities, her anxieties, her deepest fears. Did he always see her this way? The thought made her skin prickle.

Later, over dinner, she found herself overly animated, telling a slightly exaggerated story about her day. She caught herself, then immediately launched into another, louder tale. She kept glancing at him, gauging his reaction, searching for something, anything. He smiled, and she felt a brief, inexplicable relief.