Gemotions

The restaurant was packed. Liam stared at the wallet, his fingers tracing the embossed initials on the leather. The sudden discovery had knocked the breath from his lungs. He was suddenly overly conscious of the clatter of silverware, the murmur of conversations, the bright, intrusive music.

His stomach clenched. He felt as if everyone was watching him. Every glance in his direction seemed to hold a hidden accusation. He felt a deep, uncomfortable pressure in his chest. What if the owner was someone important, someone dangerous?

He stood, attempting to appear casual, and walked towards the exit, his hand gripping the wallet hidden in his jacket pocket. He told the waiter he felt sick, and paid for his meal. He needed to go. He needed to be alone.