Gemotions

The attic was stifling, the air thick with the smell of old paper and forgotten things. He’d unearthed a letter he wrote when he was nineteen, a passionate missive to a girl he'd loved with a ferocity he'd almost forgotten he was capable of. His fingers tingled as he touched the faded ink.

He sat on the dusty floor, rereading the words. A heat crept up his neck and spread through his chest. He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips. His breathing quickened.

He felt a tightening in his groin, a deep ache that he hadn't known he could still feel. He opened his eyes, feeling suddenly restless, needing to move, to *do* something. He pushed the letter away.