Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room hummed, a soundtrack to Amelia's simmering ire. She’d been waiting for hours, the scent of antiseptic clinging to her clothes, while Dr. Chen waffled about “rare anomalies” and “further investigations.” She gripped the worn fabric of her purse, knuckles white. Finally, the doctor emerged, leading a man with a nervous twitch in his left eye.

“Mr. Harding, this is Ms. Jones,” Dr. Chen said, his voice smooth. “She, too, presents with…the condition.” Amelia met the man’s gaze, a flicker of something akin to predatory curiosity in her eyes. It was a shared ailment, they'd both been told. Some quirk of the genes. Now, she would have a kindred spirit.

Mr. Harding stammered out a greeting, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers. Amelia simply stared at him, taking in his hesitant posture, the way he kept glancing at his watch. She had a sudden, burning desire to see him squirm. She smiled thinly. "I'm sure we'll have a lot to discuss," she said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that masked a coiled spring of intent.