Gemotions

He found them on his doorstep: a simple bunch of forget-me-nots. They were so unassuming, yet perfectly chosen. No note. He knew someone understood him.

He closed the door, feeling a strange tightening in his chest. His hands trembled as he placed the flowers in a small vase on his bedside table.

The afternoon seemed to lengthen, the world slowing to a sensual pace. He took a long, slow shower, the water cascading over his skin, each drop a reminder.

He put on a shirt he usually wore to bed, but didn’t go to bed. He stayed awake, watching the sunlight fade, the forget-me-nots glowing faintly in the dim light.