Gemotions

The clinking of glasses and the incessant chatter were like a physical assault on Oliver’s senses. He wanted to curl up and hide. He was not a fan of social occasions, but this one felt particularly torturous.

He was reaching for a canape when he saw her. She was chatting amiably with the bride's cousin, radiating warmth. He felt a sharp pang of something he couldn't name.

He excused himself abruptly and disappeared into the throng, his shoulders hunched. He needed a moment, a space to breathe.