Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia’s hands, a feeble shield against the chill that seemed to emanate from her bones. Across the table, Liam was animated, recounting the tale of the firefly festival. He gestured dramatically, eyes sparkling with remembered joy. "Remember how the lanterns lit up the whole field? It was magical!" Amelia nodded, a tight, brittle sound. Her version of the evening involved a suffocating heat, the oppressive press of the crowd, and a crippling anxiety attack that had her curled up in the bushes, unseen and unheard. Now, he painted a masterpiece of shared delight; she remembered only shame, a bitter stain on the vibrant colours of his memory. She took a long, slow sip, the coffee doing little to soothe the sourness in her gut.