Gemotions

It wasn't a party, but a small gathering, a sort of casual housewarming. There was a low hum of chatter, the clinking of glasses. Laura, the host, was showcasing her new 'artist' studio. Except, David knew the truth. He'd seen her sketchbooks. He knew she'd never once picked up a paintbrush.

He took a glass of wine, moving slowly through the crowd. He approached Laura, complimenting the room, asking about the inspiration behind her "artwork". He then casually asked about the brushes she used, the pigments, the techniques she employed.

Laura, caught off guard, fumbled, her answers vague and evasive. David pressed, his voice soft, his questions pointed, his eyes locked on her face. He spoke about famous artists and techniques, making a show of his knowledge. He watched her carefully, noting her rising discomfort. She was exposed, and he delighted in the sight.