Gemotions

The air in the apartment felt thin, hard to breathe. I shifted in my seat, trying to find some form of comfort. My hands were balled into fists in my lap. I watched Anya as she made dinner, whistling. She was normally a terrible whistler, but today, her tone was perfect.

She kept looking at me, smiling, and I felt something crawl on the back of my neck. I remembered my native language. I had been working to keep it secret. But now, it seemed I wasn't the only one with secrets.

She seemed to be avoiding my gaze. I hated feeling this way.