Gemotions

He found himself constantly “helping” his dad in the garage, even though he knew next to nothing about cars. The smell of oil and grease, once a parental association, now had a…pull. Every grunt of effort, every calloused hand, sent a peculiar warmth spreading through him. He’d never paid much attention before, but now he was riveted.

He'd catch himself staring, mesmerized by the way his father’s brow furrowed in concentration. The way the sunlight caught the silver at his temples. He’d find an excuse to be nearby, offering to hand over a wrench, or to fetch a rag. Anything.

The evenings were worse. They'd watch TV together, and the casual touch of his dad's shoulder as he laughed at a joke felt like a physical shock. He'd abruptly stand and announce he was going to bed, needing to escape before he revealed something.