Gemotions

The chipped mug trembled in Elara's hand, nearly spilling its lukewarm tea. Across the table, Liam was beaming, recounting the bonfire night with such vivid detail, it was like she hadn't been there at all. He remembered the fireworks bursting over the lake, the way the fire crackled, the specific song that was playing. Elara fiddled with the strap of her bag, the leather now feeling rough and unfamiliar against her skin. She had a completely different recollection. For her, the night was a blur of cold wind and the metallic tang of fear, the fire a roaring inferno rather than a comforting light. She'd been certain they'd huddled under a bridge, not near a lake. His certainty was unsettling, a persistent itch behind her eyes.