Gemotions

He stared at the painting, a frown etching itself onto his face. The art gallery buzzed with chatter, but for Daniel, the only thing that mattered was the canvas. He remembered it differently. He remembered they had both agreed on the placement of the bird, not this… this utter mess.

"Are you serious?" he finally managed, his voice a low growl. Beside him, Mark beamed, oblivious. "That's exactly how I envisioned it, the way the light hits the feathers. Brilliant, wouldn't you say?"

Daniel clenched his jaw. Brilliant? It was garbage! His shoulder throbbed with the effort of holding back what he wanted to say. He looked away, focusing on a nearby painting of a bowl of fruit.