Gemotions

The clinking of ice in the glasses was the only sound for a long moment. Across the small table, Jake casually sipped his drink, oblivious. "So, you're just… leaving?" Leo’s voice was strained, a low growl barely concealing the tremor of his voice.

The restaurant, usually a haven of comfortable chatter, felt oppressively quiet. The polished wood of the table seemed to reflect back his own distorted image. Every muscle in his body felt tense, coiled, ready to spring.

Jake shrugged. “Yeah, opportunity of a lifetime. Always wanted to live in Seattle.” His casual tone felt like a deliberate provocation. Leo slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses jump. “You’re throwing away everything!” he spat out, the words catching in his throat.