Gemotions

"More coffee, love?" Beatrice's voice was soft, laced with a natural easiness. She barely registered the question, nodding slowly, savoring the familiar comfort of her cluttered studio. Sunlight streamed through the large window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, creating a feeling of calm. She reached for her brushes, their worn handles fitting perfectly in her palm. The morning was promising.

A notification on her laptop pinged, pulling her attention away from her current project. An email. Someone had sent her a photo. Her artwork, a vibrant floral composition, was now a tattoo.

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. A lovely feeling of warmth spread through her. The idea of her art living on someone else's skin, a constant companion, pleased her enormously. She felt the urge to start painting again.