Gemotions

His knuckles were white as he gripped the book. The unauthorized biography was open on his lap, but he couldn't bring himself to read it. The thought of someone pawing through his private life, dissecting it for public consumption, ignited a cold fire in his chest. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a pressure that wouldn't release.

He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the sterile silence of his apartment. He stalked towards the window, staring out at the rain-slicked streets. The city lights blurred, reflecting the turmoil inside. He wanted to scream, to shatter something. Instead, he simply ground his teeth, a sound lost in the drumming of the downpour.