Gemotions

He watched Mark from across the room, meticulously straightening his tie. It was a stupid, trivial thing to be fixated on, but every perfect knot was a tiny stab. He had caught Mark reading his journal, a week ago, a quick glimpse, then a hurried look away. Now, Mark was chatting with the girl he (the narrator) had a crush on. He was laughing, his usual charming self.

His own hands felt clumsy as he buttoned his shirt. His stomach felt like it was doing a slow, angry dance. He hated how easily Mark seemed to navigate social situations, how everyone was naturally drawn to him.

He cleared his throat. "Ready for the presentation?" he asked, his voice sounding flat and lifeless.

Mark flashed him a friendly smile. "Absolutely! Should be fun."