Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that used to make Amelia's stomach do somersaults. Now, watching him from the doorway of the bookshop, it only twisted her insides. He was the spitting image of the boy she'd known, the same bright, curious eyes, the same mischievous grin. Yet, when she’d introduced herself, he’d simply stared at her, a blank expression washing over his features.

The book in his hands seemed infinitely more interesting than she was. Her fingers tightened around the worn strap of her bag.

She turned and left without a word, the weight of the unanswered question settling heavily on her shoulders. The air felt thick, difficult to breathe.