Gemotions

The gallery assistant, bless her eager heart, was practically bouncing. "Mr. Abernathy, this is so exciting! They loved your 'Ephemeral Bloom' so much, they put it on their... well, look!" She gestured, practically vibrating with excitement. He looked. A woman, mid-thirties, stood proudly, arm angled, displaying his intricate floral design snaking around her bicep. The audacity.

Abernathy's jaw clenched. He crossed his arms, the knuckles of his hands white against his chest. He could feel a prickle of heat crawl up his neck.

"It's...faithful, I'll give it that," he finally managed, his voice carefully controlled, like he was speaking through a mouthful of needles. The poor assistant beamed, oblivious. He wanted to evaporate.

The woman, noticing the lack of enthusiasm, approached, a hesitant smile on her face. "I just love your work," she began, the words immediately grating on him.

He offered a tight, brief nod, avoiding eye contact. "Enjoy." He wanted to be anywhere but there.