Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the hospital waiting room, mirroring the turmoil in Marco’s mind. He had arrived late, a rushed train ride across town to be here. He saw her at the front desk, talking to the receptionist. Her movements were guarded, careful. She kept turning to look at the other occupants in the room, her gaze sharp, assessing. The way she tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear was a familiar tic he recognized – and not one he enjoyed.

He’d known he wasn't alone, of course. The doctor had been very specific about that, but to *see* it… to see another person with the identical physical anomaly – the slight tremor in her left hand – was unsettling.

He edged closer, his pulse quickening.

"That's a rather... unusual eye color you have," he started, attempting a casual tone.