Gemotions

The feeling was a vague unease at first, a shifting in the air. He noticed that the order of his books had been slightly altered. The way he placed them was a specific order, something only he knew.

Then he saw it. A bookmark in his journal. It was a small, dried flower he'd picked up on a hike. He didn't remember putting a bookmark in there. It was his roommate, David's favorite flower. He looked up, his chest tightening. David was humming in the corner, cleaning his headphones.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable sense of exposure, as if he'd been caught naked in a crowd. He couldn't place it.