Gemotions

The familiar knot in his stomach tightened. He felt a surge of heightened perception, as if the world had suddenly come into sharp focus. The music seemed too loud, the laughter too forced. His palms were clammy.

He saw her, and his carefully constructed facade of composure crumbled. He gripped his glass of scotch, the ice cold against his sweating palm. He couldn't meet her gaze, couldn't risk the connection.

He feigned interest in a nearby conversation, all the while acutely aware of her presence, of her subtle movements, of everything about her. He felt exposed, vulnerable, as if the past was closing in.