Gemotions

The leather of the couch felt strangely rough against his palms. He ran his fingers over it, a restless energy buzzing beneath his skin. The phone calls, the way she clutched the phone to her chest, whispering into it in the dead of the night… It was a constant, gnawing emptiness inside him. He wanted. He had to have.

He imagined the words exchanged, the laughter, the intimacy he wasn't privy to. He wanted the secret passwords, the shared jokes, the private life. He wanted it all, every last stolen second. He stood up, pacing the living room, the need for answers clawing at him.

He pictured himself in her phone, the contact name, the inside jokes, he felt that this must belong to him. He was losing control.