Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, the action jerky and unfamiliar. The fluorescent lights of the pawn shop hummed, amplifying the unsettling tension that seemed to vibrate in the air. The ring, glittering innocently under the harsh glare, was a phantom limb, a memory made real.

He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin. He had to act. He had to be calm. He stared, attempting to steady his breathing.

The shop owner, a large man with a thick neck, watched him. His gaze was unreadable. "You know what it is?" he grunted, tilting his head.

He licked his lips, the taste of metal suddenly coating his tongue. "Yes." The word was barely a whisper. He felt the blood draining from his face, leaving him feeling lightheaded and vulnerable. He felt the ground tilting beneath him.