Gemotions

The string quartet’s music seemed to weave in and out of focus, like a dream. Chloe’s eyelids felt like they were coated with lead. She’d been staring at the table settings, trying to memorize the placement of the forks and knives, but even that simple task seemed to require Herculean effort. Every muscle in her body felt like it was made of lead.

Then, there he was, standing near the bar. James. Her heart did a little flip in her chest, but she couldn't summon the energy to care. He looked relaxed, and she hated him for it.

He approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate. "Chloe," he said, his voice soft. She simply nodded, unable to muster a reply. All she wanted was to be in a dark, quiet room.