Gemotions

The metal sculpture was his. He hated the thought of people seeing it. A burning sensation erupted in his gut. His hands were damp, and his palms started to sweat. He ran a hand over his face. He felt his pulse quickening in his throat. A woman, her hair as dark as the shadows in the room, moved towards it, her eyes fixed on the curves and angles. He watched her touch the cool metal, her fingers tracing the lines he had labored over. He felt a tremor run through him, a strange mixture of shame and… something else. He wanted to turn away, but he was rooted to the spot.