Gemotions

He stared at the roses, their velvet petals a deep, unsettling crimson. It was like something out of a bad movie, the delivery man's sheepish grin, the hurried exit. *Well, isn’t this convenient,* he muttered to himself, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. A note, a clue, a single name – anything would have been better than this void of explanation.

He walked over and picked up the flowers. He closed his eyes, the smell almost overwhelming. This felt… off. It was too soon, too bold. This was the kind of tactic someone used when they had something to hide. He considered throwing them out immediately, but his curiosity won out.