Gemotions

The cardboard box sat on the doorstep, addressed to "Mr. Alistair Finch." He wasn't Alistair Finch, but the name on the lease was now his. He knew the mailman hadn't quite caught up yet. A wave of heat blossomed in his chest as he hefted the box inside, the weight of it surprisingly substantial.

He ripped into the packaging tape with a savage tear. Inside nestled a velvet-lined box. Inside that, a watch. A stunning, intricately detailed timepiece. His pulse quickened. He imagined the way it would look on his wrist, the compliments, the status it would convey.

He decided that Alistair Finch, wherever he was, wouldn't mind. Someone this lucky clearly didn't need it. His fingers tightened around the watch, enjoying the cool metal against his skin.