Gemotions

"Is that…is that my skull?" Leo stammered, his breath catching in his throat. He’d been sketching in the park, when he saw it. His own artwork, a complex, almost macabre rendering of a human skull, was now a permanent fixture on a biker's calf.

The biker, a mountain of muscle and leather, grinned, his teeth gleaming white against his tanned skin. "Yeah, man. Badass, right?" He flexed the tattooed leg.

Leo’s legs felt weak. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to just…exist in this moment of pure, unadulterated astonishment. The sun felt warmer on his skin. He realized he was smiling like an idiot, unable to control the joyous bubbling in his chest.

He took a step towards the biker. "It's… it's incredible," he finally managed, his voice thick with a strange, giddy delight. He felt like he could run a marathon.