Gemotions

"She looks happy, doesn't she?" Mark said to himself, watching Emily across the courtyard. The lanterns glowed, casting long shadows. Laughter echoed from the tables, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. He stood alone, feeling the chill of the evening seep into his bones, despite the balmy air.

He hadn’t anticipated this. Seeing her, surrounded by friends and family, happy, was a new kind of… pressure. A dull ache settled in his stomach. He’d thought he was over her. He'd *thought* so. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration.

He saw her turn and look in his direction, her expression unreadable in the dim light. He quickly turned away, unable to meet her gaze, the sudden urge to flee overriding everything else.