Gemotions

The sports bar buzzed with noise and laughter, but for Chris, it was a cacophony of torment. He stared at his half-empty beer, the condensation tracing cold paths down the glass. "So, that's it then?" he managed, his voice thick with unacknowledged hurt. Across the booth, Sam nodded, unfazed.

He wanted to argue, to plead, to beg Sam to reconsider. But the words were caught in his throat, replaced by a surge of heat that flushed his face. He felt a desperate urge to smash something, to break free from the suffocating pressure building in his chest.

He took a long, gulping swig of his beer, the bitterness doing little to quell the rising tide of… something. He slammed the glass down on the table, the sharp sound cutting through the bar's din.