Gemotions

He stared at the ring, the light reflecting off the sapphire in a way that felt like a deliberate taunt. His breath hitched, a sharp intake of air. It sat there, so casually, like it was any other piece of junk. He'd recognize that ring anywhere. His grandmother had worn it every day of her life.

The pawnbroker’s voice was bland, indifferent. He named a price, a pittance. He knew the man was taking advantage. He almost choked.

He felt the muscles in his jaw clench, his teeth grinding together. He wanted to obliterate everything. He gripped the counter, knuckles white. The air felt thick, heavy, difficult to breathe. He wanted to shout. He just paid, took the ring, and left. The whole thing was revolting.