Gemotions

He’d recognized the style instantly, the stark lines, the precise shading. It was his. Or, it *had* been. Now, it was etched into the skin of a burly biker slumped against the bar. The artist, Leo, felt a tightness in his chest, a constriction that made it difficult to breathe. The man, noticing Leo's stare, flexed the newly inked bicep. "Like it, mate?" he growled, the words a challenge. Leo swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He found himself backing away, a knot forming in his throat.