Gemotions

The leather binding felt slick against Elias’s palms as he flipped open the unauthorized biography. His name, embossed in gold, mocked him. He’d been completely oblivious. He skimmed a chapter detailing his early relationships, the author’s portrayal of his youthful clumsiness and naive ambitions unexpectedly stirring something deep inside him.

He reached for a glass of water, his hand shaking slightly. The book felt hot in his grip, the paper whispering secrets he hadn't known were public. His breath hitched as he read a passage on a summer spent abroad, a trip he’d barely remembered, now rendered vibrant and sensual by the writer's pen.

He tossed the book onto the table, the abrupt movement making the small vase of flowers nearby rattle. The sudden silence in his apartment was almost deafening, and he found himself staring at the wall, a pulse thrumming behind his eyes.