Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the tempest within Leo. He’d seen Maya, his Maya, across the crowded room, her laughter bright and effortless. He’d approached, heart a frantic drum against his ribs, and introduced himself. Her response? A polite, confused flicker of her eyes and a blank, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” He’d retreated then, the warmth leaching from his limbs. Now, he nursed his lukewarm latte, the taste a bitter echo of his disappointment. Each sip felt like swallowing gravel. The world outside seemed a noisy, vibrant canvas, utterly detached from the monochrome film playing in his mind.