Gemotions

He saw her across the room, a flash of red amidst the sea of pastel dresses. Daniel swore under his breath, his carefully constructed composure cracking. His carefully styled hair felt suddenly heavy, like a helmet. He excused himself from the conversation with the groom’s boisterous cousin, a vague murmur about needing a breath of air. His hands were clammy as he made his way through the crowd, each step feeling like a monumental effort. He felt a peculiar detachment, as if watching himself from a great height. He was sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.