Gemotions

The champagne flute felt heavy in Amelia's hand. The ballroom lights swam a little, blurring the edges of the elaborate floral arrangements. She shifted her weight, feeling a drag in her feet. It was the heat, she decided. Or maybe just the sheer number of people crammed into the space. She’d been avoiding the dance floor, content to lean against a pillar, observing the swirling chaos.

Then she saw him. Across the room, near the bar. Liam. Her stomach lurched. It wasn't the usual butterflies, but something akin to a stone sinking. She took a slow, deliberate sip of the champagne, the bubbles doing nothing to lighten the weight in her chest. He was talking to Sarah, their mutual friend. Of course, he was.

The conversation seemed to stretch on forever. Amelia felt rooted to the spot, a feeling of being pulled downwards as she watched him. She found herself wishing she could just melt into the ornate wallpaper behind her.