Gemotions

The aroma of burning toast filled the apartment. Amelia, usually a morning person, found herself lingering in bed. She heard a mumbled word drift from the kitchen, a word that sounded… *familiar*. It was a phrase, a clumsy attempt, in her native Gaelic. She sat bolt upright, heart thudding.

She crept to the doorway, peering at her partner, David, hunched over the toaster. He didn't turn. "Dia dhuit," he muttered, the pronunciation a little off. Amelia's breath hitched. A coldness settled in her stomach.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice sounding thin to her own ears. David jumped, spilling the toast onto the counter. He mumbled a quick explanation about an online course. Amelia felt a wave of… *something*. She didn't know what to do with it. She felt a prickle of unease.