Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with Friday afternoon energy. Amelia smoothed down the crisp white fabric of her dress, the gesture automatic, practiced. Across the tiny table, Liam stared at her, brow furrowed. "So," he said, finally, “You’re saying we, like, played in the sandbox together?” Amelia took a delicate sip of her iced latte. The clinking of ice against the glass seemed to amplify the silence. She let a small, almost imperceptible smile play on her lips. "Indeed. Remember the time I built a castle that was *so* much better than yours? Yours kept collapsing."