Gemotions

He found himself pacing the worn wooden floorboards of his apartment, the dim light casting elongated shadows. He had a shared hobby with "TechWizard," a fellow enthusiast of vintage arcade games, and they'd been swapping strategies online for ages. It turned out, TechWizard was actually, Sarah, the kind woman who lived in the unit next door, and whose dog he walked for a bit of extra cash. She’d messaged him to say she was at the local arcade.

His breath hitched. He felt a deep pull, a need to understand her better. He grabbed his keys and rushed out.

The arcade was a cacophony of flashing lights and beeping sounds. He spotted her immediately – her hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, her face illuminated by the glow of a Pac-Man machine. She looked genuinely delighted, and he found himself smiling in return.

He walked over slowly, trying to project a calm that didn’t match how his stomach was churning.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little too loud. “I, uh, I’m your… arcade rival?”